fandomtownies | First National Bank of Fandom Town, Sunday afternoon

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$bank,
dick grayson

First National Bank of Fandom Town, Sunday afternoon

There had been issues. Dick Dastardly couldn't find Muttley, he didn't have a plane to chase any pigeons... He couldn't even find a pigeon to catch! So he needed a pigeon locator and a plane, but he needed money to buy both of those since he couldn't find his regular mechanic.

He did have keys to a motorcycle, though, and it didn't take him long to find where the motorcycle was parked, paint it purple, and put a spikey drill thing on the front of it. Once that was all settled, Dick Dastardly rode over to the bank, where he would earn that money the old fashioned way: by stealing it. All he had to do was drill into the lock, ride his brand new Mean Machine over to the vault, and start drilling into that.

"Drat, drat, and double drat!" Dick Dastardly cursed as he started drilling. "This is going to take forever with this drill! Lucky for me, the bank is closed on Sunday, so I won't have any interruptions."

[OOC: Open to interruptions.]

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Tony hadn't actually known there was a crime being committed through any fancy superhero things. No, he'd just been going from restaurant to restaurant for more food when he happened to stumble onto the bank.

Which was lacking in food.

"Stop there!" Iron Man said, striking an impressive pose.

"TRIPLE DRAT! A hero!" Dick Dastardly said turning around. And then he laughed. "Wait, you're the hero they sent?"

"The name's... Iron Man," he replied because someone was now from a comic book and not just a badly animated TV show.

"The name's Overeater's Anonymous," Dick Dastardly said. "MUTTLEY! GET HIM A FLIER."

It took Dick Dastardly a moment to remember the flaw in that. "Drat! No Muttley."

"The jig's up, Overeater's Anonymous!" Iron Man shouted, getting read to charge him with those rocket boots adding force.

Getting ready to charge him with those rocket boots...

Rocket boots? Why wouldn't they be working?

"...heeeey."

"If this is going to take a while, I can just go back to drilling," Dick Dastardly said as he stroked his mustache in a rather dastardly way.

"You will not!" Curse his weight now only becoming a hinderance because of comic affect.

Iron Man sucked it up and started to run at him. Which might also take some time. Because he was already winded.

"What are you going to do when you get here? Eat me?" Dick Dastardly said, pulling the Mean Machine away from the vault.

WHY DID EVERYONE HAVE TO MAKE FUN OF HIM?

Tony manfully fought back a whimper by thinking of Captain America. Strong and brave and entirely in a heterosexual manner...

"Well, it's not like you're going anywhere with that hunk of junk!"

"I could probably walk the Mean Machine out of here before you caught up to me," Dick Dastardly said, climbing onto the seat. "Especially when I do this. OVER THERE! A CHEESEBURGER!"

Yes, he was pointing off to the side as a distraction. It was obviously a lie. But would Iron Man be able to pass up the mere POSSIBILITY of an unguarded cheeseburger? COULD HE?

"Where?!" Oh, curse this addiction of his that is presented in a way that shows absolutely no research at all!

"I lied!" Dick Dastardly yelled as he revved up the Mean Machine and rode off toward the door.

He'd be back. In like a half hour. The fat guy would probably be gone by then.

"CURSES!" Because there weren't any good swears to be used. Or something.

He'd... catch him later. Maybe after getting a cheeseburger. Mmmmm.... cheeseburger.

Anakin had been at the police station when the call about the bank heist came in.

His first thought was hoping that Luke hadn't turned back into the Joker because it would be awkward to arrest his kid.

His second thought was, inexplicably, for a cheeseburger.

His third thought was actually about the assignment: "A drill? Seriously?"

"DRAT ONCE AGAIN!" Dick Dastardly cursed with a PG-13 fury. But it was still a G-rated curse, so whatever. "How many people around here respond to bank robberies anyway?"

Edited 2011-06-06 01:11 (UTC)

"Could be dozens," Anakin replied, "assuming the people in costume aren't just the same person with multiple outfit changes."

"You're nowhere near as fat as the last guy," Dick Dastardly pondered, waving Anakin's theory off. "But that doesn't mean you don't share his hunger!"

Dick Dastardly pushed a big red button on the Mean Machine. After dealing with Iron Man, he quickly installed a new weapon: the Burger Gun. After pressing the button, two dozen cheeseburgers fired from the motorcycle in rapid fire succession.

They smelled delicious, if Dick Dastardly was to judge such things.

Anakin watched them shoot by and raised an eyebrow. "What was that?"

"It would have been effective against the last guy," Dick Dastardly sighed. "MUTTLEEEEEY! WHERE ARE YOU, YOU MANGY HOUND? DISTRACT THE MAN WITH THE WAVY HAIR!"

"He'll just be a moment," Dick Dastardly told Anakin.

"Good," Anakin said. "I'd hate to make two trips to the station."

"Oh, you're an actual police officer?" Dick Dastardly asked. "In that case..."

Dick Dastardly pulled the Mean Machine away from the vault and climbed onto the seat. "You're just going to have to catch me! I hope you have a Wacky Racer of some sort!"

"For the love of--" Anakin muttered, rolling his eyes and igniting his lightsaber before slashing it at a tire.

"DRAT, DRAT, AND TRIPLE DRAT!" Dick Dastardly said. "Well, only one thing left to do now." He pressed a big red button that activated the ejector seat, launching him straight into the ceiling. Since this wasn't a cartoon, he didn't break through the ceiling and roof to freedom outside completely unscathed. Instead, he hit the ceiling hard and fell back to the ground, also hard.

"I surrender," Dick Dastardly said as he saw stars, a pigeon, and a winged Muttley floating around his head.

Odds are, nobody else could see that. And nobody else could hear Muttley snickering at him.

"Excellent choice," Anakin said, slapping handcuffs on him. "You have the right to remain silent--"

"I wave it," Dick Dastardly said. "MUTTLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEY, YOU INSUFFERABLE KLUTZ! YOU'LL REGRET NOT BEING HERE TO HELP ME!"

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First National Bank of Fandom Town, Sunday afternoon

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