102 - Bar Fight

"Would you like these clones to use susano or not?"

The line immaculately delivered, though with only half of its requirement met, flew right over the bouncers head. They did not get the reference.

This resulted in the collective facepalm of the Ditto population. They looked at the standing Ditto with pure disappointment, the face that your father made when he gazed upon you and realized you were his child.

I assure you, he was disappointed.

No, the Father himself loves you because you have loved me and have believed that I came from God. (John 16: 27)

Moving on, the audience of Ditto didn't take lightly to such disappointment and were no shy in giving constructive criticism.

"That was Bad."

"It was like Superman trying to be Batman."

"It was like seeing Batman wearing Wonder Woman's dress with a full beard."

"It was an immaculate fail of the century."

"I wish I could erase my brain."

"I wish I could dig my ears out in the past."

"We need to rewind time to erase this disgrace."

With each critic, Ditto could only shrink. The criticism heavily damaging his confidence as a person. He might actually need some consultation after this event.

"Enough!"

Shouted the bouncer who had enough of being ignored. He had insecurities about his presence and was angered by the lack of acknowledgement. But we are not here to talk about his psychological need nor his daddy issues.

"Shut up!"

He shouted, gazing straight at the very handsome, very immaculate, very winner of the best looking stud in the compound. The Handsome Ditto could only turn his head and looked at the man coolly.

"Stop narrating."

He demanded.

But the Cool and Handsome Ditto would not do such bidding of an average looking guy. The handsome stud lightly brushed his manly whiskers and looked at the man intently. A challenge accepted.

A stare down.

"What the hell is going on?!"

A new player, a man wearing only his pants—the boss of the bar, no doubt— emerged from the back room. In urgency, deduced by the hurriedly put pants with unbuckled belt, marks of lipstick on his lips and the very feminine perfume scent mixed with very intense hormones.

He turned to look at the dashingly handsome, "Bonjour." Spoke the handsome ditto in his manly voice.

"What are you all looking at! Kill them!!"

The boss roared, looking very constipated as he did so. The bouncers finally gained the courage to meet wit to wit with the handsome Dittos.

The bouncers began their bulldoze charge, running straight to pummel the little munchkins that had infiltrated their livelihood. Yet to their dismay, they were clearly outclassed and outnumbered.

"Stop narrating!" Shouted the Bouncer as he charged at the handsome lad with a baton on hand..

But he would never reach him. He would step on a bottle, slip and fall head first into a table, and faint.

The bouncer halted, looking down to make sure that he was indeed not about to step on a bottle, but that was a mistake. The handsome lad jumped from the table, did two beautiful spins midair and made a perfect landing on the bouncers neck.

"Argh!" Cried the man as he fell face first and fainted.

On the other side, Chaos erupted like a shaken soda can mixed with mint. Very explosive and spontaneous.

"Start the Porty, yo!" Disco Ditto declared as he began to play a sick jam.

A whirlwind of Black and White blew across the club. Booming music, sick beats and a lots and lots of villainous giggled. Dittos were finally unleashing their inner beasts.

"Put 'em up!" Challenged a Ditto, boxing the air while he stood atop a bar stool, wearing a tie as a bandanna. "You think you could take me?

"You rat!" A foolish bouncer charged, taking a wild swing with his braze knuckles.

But the Ditto used his agility and jumped above his swing. Performing a perfect triple back-flip as he landed back on table tripled.

Clap clap clap,

The audience cheered at the marvelous acrobatics.

"The rodents are multiplying," Said the bouncer, confused and confounded by such miracles, reaching to grab one of them. But the Ditto ducked under his arms with an exaggerated swoosh.

"Can't catch us," Ditto teased with the truth, zigzagging between the man's legs, dodging every clumsy swipe with ease.

Another Ditto caught on the ceiling fan, spinning around like a hyperactive monkey.

"Wheeee!" He screamed in delight before leaping off. He extended his finger to stop his fall. Yet the cloth he grabbed tore with a 'rip'.

"Oops," Ditto held out the torn t-shirt to the man who was now bare for all to see.

"You little gremlin!" The man screamed, shredding his already torn shirt.

"Who are you callin' a germlin?" A Ditto leapt on his head, digging his fingers into the man's hair and pulling. "You need a new hair cut, buddy!"

The man groaned, flailing about as Ditto clung to his head like a spider monkey. "Let go!"

"Nope!" Ditto answered as he decided to give the man a new haircut, by pulling all his hair out.

Yet on another platform, much more intricate dance was fought.

Two Ditto's dancing at the edge of abyss, crossed swords. Using the bar stool as swords, they fenced with ferocity of a pro.

"You fight with the elegance of a drunken chicken!" One Ditto declared, parrying the incoming attack.

"You, sir, fight like a blindfolded raccoon!" Other Ditto responded, swinging wildly, knocking over a tray of drinks.

"Careful with those!" shouted a third Ditto, wearing a makeshift bartender's apron made with a woman top. "I don't wanna clean more than I have to!"

However, one side of the battle was not in Ditto's favor.

A bouncer grabbed on of the Ditto's by the leg, lifting him off the ground. "Finally got you!" He snarled.

"Wrong," Ditto squeaked, splitting into two more midair. The two new slipped down, landing on either side of him.

"Is that all you got?" The first Ditto asked, crossing his arms with a smug grin.

The bouncer grumbled, reaching for the nearest clone. Ditto darted away from his swing and another poked him with a bar stood.

"I had enough!" Bouncer shouted as he flung a table at a Ditto. Ditto ducked out the way, letting the table smash into a stack of beer on the Bar. Glass shattering everywhere.

"Oopsie," Ditto giggled poking his head from behind the bar.

The Bartender Ditto threw his apron on the floor. "You brake it, you buy it!" He felt indignant that his work was not appreciated.

Another bouncer, clearly fed up, charged in, swinging his nunchucks at a group of Ditto clones.

"Enough of this circus!"

"Cirque du Soleil!" one Ditto corrected, dodging the swing. "We're classier than a circus."

He was met with a swing to his chest, flinging across the room. he landed with a thud, stuck to the wall like a squishy toy. "Alright, that one hurt," He admitted, sliding down the wall comically.

"Ya think ya tough, huh?!" yelled a Ditto from the pool table, standing Triumphantly with a pool cue in his hand.

"Try this for size!" He yelled as he jumped off the pool table, whacking the bouncer's leg out. The bouncer jumped like a slapped bull as a Ditto hopped onto his back.

"Rodeo time!" Ditto whipped a hat, holding onto the bouncer as he tried to shake him off. "There are no day like today to live! Yeehaw!!!"

Ditto with the stick gave the bouncer a whack on the butt, sending the bull charging.

Meanwhile, one of the bouncers who had been thrown into the table earlier stood up clutching his ribs. "I've had enough of you freaks!"

"Ooh, now it's personal," Ditto said, hands on his hips, glaring up at the towering man. "Freak eh, I will show ya what freak feels like!"

Before the bouncer could reply, Ditto lunge forward with a Baton in his hand. His aim straight and his target double. He hit a homerun on the Man's balls. The impact was swift, accompanied by a crunch.

The man's face twisted in sheer agony as the room echoed with a unanimous ooohhhhhh from all the Dittos.

"HOME RUNNNNN!" Ditto announced triumphantly.

The poor man crumpled to the floor, clutching his lower half, gasping for breath. Yet no scream left his lips, only a few curse. "Y-you... little... monster!"

"Shush, Shush. No need for compliments." Ditto soothed the man by patting him on the head. "I'm just doin' my job."

Across the bar, another Ditto wielded a mop like it was sword, fencing with an increasingly frustrated bouncer. "En garde!" He shouted, jabbing with the mop handle.

"Stop playin' around and fight me for real!" the bouncer snarled, swinging a chair.

"Real? You want me to fight ya for real?" Ditto asked, flipping over the agility of a cat. "Ya want some nut cracker?!" He pointed.

The bouncer now gazed at the poor man clutching his broken balls. He cringed, his hands reaching to cover his manhood.

"No~" He said in a weak voice.

*Crash*

Table flipped over as some bouncers gained a second wind, trying to take down the seemingly endless horde of Dittos. They threw everything they could grab on at the elusive hoard.

"There's too many of them." One of the bouncers cried.

"Nope, just enough of us!" Bartender Ditto shouted, chugging bottles at the men. "This is a classy establishment—how dare you act unsightly!"

The boss who was pushed around by the Ditto reached his limit, reaching for his gun. Yet before he could draw, a Ditto swung down from the pole, landing on his back and knocking the weapon away.

"No weapons in a fist fight!" Ditto said as he wagging in his finger at the grown man like he was chiding a child.

The boss fell to his knees, clutching his now-aching back with a misplace vertebrate. "You... little... freaks..." He grunted through his gasped breath.

"Hey, that's freak plural, mister," Ditto shot back, folding his arms. "I prefer the term 'fun-sized heroes,' thank you very much!"

"I got you," A bouncer spoke in joy, now sneaked behind the Handsome Ditto.

Yet, he was now met with the gun's end by the Handsome Ditto. In all his awesomeness, he had predicted such pathetic behavior. "Leave me be," He said coolly, sending the bouncer away without much trouble.

But to the bouncers dismay, Cowboy Ditto found his new horse. He leap on the man's shoulder and yanked his hair. "Ride 'em cowboy!" He yelled as the man flailed around, trying to throw him off.

Suddenly, the doors burst open, and in stormed a squad of Gotham's police officers, Guns draw and panic in their eye. They paused, dumbfounded by the sight before them—multiple alien creatures wreaking absolute havoc, beating up full-grown men.

"What.. what in the—" the Officer stammered in shock, lowing his gun in disbelief.

"Uhm... we surrender? One of the Dittos raised his hands innocently, while another was still smacking a bouncer in the face with a tray in the background.

The commanding officer, Commissioner Gordon himself, stepped into the chaotic scene, looking just as bewildered as the rest of his men.

"What?" Commissioner Gordan questioned the most handsome of Ditto's. "What?"

"Who are you?!" Gordon begged the most handsome Ditto.

"Ditto," The handsome Ditto answered graciously.

"And why, exactly, are you... beating these people up?" Gordon asked, rubbing his temples as if he was on the verge of a migraine.

One Ditto, wearing a broken bottle on his head like a crown, stepped forward. "Because I was angry!" he shouted dramatically.

"Fun!" another chimed in.

"Fun!" chorused the rest, like a bunch of mischievous schoolchildren caught in the act.

Gordon sighed deeply, massaging his forehead. "Just... just get cuffed. All of you. And you stop narrating!"

"Can't cuff us all!" Ditto laughed, as one of him slipped behind the bar and disappeared into a sea of overturned tables.

"Yeah, good luck with that!" another Ditto shouted from the ceiling fan, spinning like a maniac as he flung peanut shells at the officers.

The rest of the police squad groaned in frustration as the seemingly infinite army of Dittos continued to wreak havoc.

Gordon just stood there, arms crossed, watching the chaos unfold. "I should have called Batman."

*****

The bar was in absolute chaos. Ditto clones were climbing walls, swinging from ceiling fans, and tossing half-eaten snacks at both the bouncers and the Gotham police. Amidst the cartoonish madness, Commissioner Gordon stood helpless, wondering why he ever thought tonight would be peaceful.

Suddenly, a cold wind waft through the open door. A shadow loomed from the corner, growing larger and darker until the unmistakable figure of Batman stepped into the dim light, his cape billowing dramatically. The chaos slowed for just a second as all eyes—human, Ditto, and otherwise—turned to the Dark Knight.

Ditto, who had been wearing a makeshift crown, immediately dropped his royal posture and saluted. "Batsy's here, everyone! Playtime's over!" 

"Party pooper!!!" Disco Ditto shouted, honking a horn he found somewhere.

"I am Gotham's Shadow," one of the Dittos declared, attempting to mimic Batman.

"I am the Night." Another joined in

"I am Vengeance."

"I am Batman!" 

The Ditto clones chorused, their voices echoing in unison.

"Want a drink, Batman?" the bartender Ditto asked casually as he wiped a glass. "It's on the house."

But Batman was not amused. "Stop this chaos."

"Thank God you're here." Gordon sighed in relief.

"It's nothing to worry about, Gordon," Batman glared at the sea of Ditto clones. "We need to talk. Now."

The Ditto clones groaned, disappointed by the sudden halt to their fun. One of them, perched atop a defeated bouncer, muttered, "Aww, c'mon, we were just getting started."

"Okay, well, I was here to talk to you both anyway," the original Ditto—Ten—remarked nonchalantly. He clapped his hands. "Time out, boys!"

At his command, all the Dittos groaned but obediently began to fuse back together. The Omnitrix on Ditto's head beeped, and in a bright flash, all the clones disappeared, leaving only Ten standing there, now in his regular form. He crossed his arms casually and leaned against the bar.

Batman and Gordon watched as the chaotic scene simmered down. "We've got a lot to discuss," Ten pointed at the stools in front of him.

Batman remained standing, his eyes locked onto Ten.

"Well, if you want to stand, fine," Ten shrugged. "But let me introduce myself properly. I'm Ten. I'm your king's right-hand man, and I was sent here to check on Gotham's conditions before… well, I forgot what that was."

Batman's eyes narrowed slightly but remained silent.

"Look, Bat," Ten started, adjusting his round glasses. "I was just doing a little… community check-up."

"By wrecking a bar and brawling with half its patrons?" Gordan asked, folding his arms.

Ten shrugged again, unphased by Batman's growing tension from the side. "Eh, a bit of fun on the side. Besides, places like this—" He gestured to the dingy bar. "They're not exactly pillars of the community. I thought I could nudge things in the right direction."

Batman's jaw tightened. "You've crossed the line."

"Maybe," Ten admitted, pushing off the bar to stand up straight. "But I helped some people tonight. Cleaned up a mess without calling in the big guys."

"You're should be helping then," Batman replied, stepping closer, his shadow swallowing Ten. "Not causing more problems."

Ten sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Alright, alright, point taken. But I wasn't causing more problems. More like… multitasking."

He pulled a note from his jacket and flipped it open. "I made a checklist. Just confirm a few things." He looked over at Gordon. "How's the crime situation, Commissioner?"

Gordon, now calmer but still unsure of Ten, adjusted his glasses. "Crime has dropped significantly. We're down to minor cases most nights, and we've closed a lot of old ones. With the bigger crime families neutralized, Gotham has been… peaceful."

"Good, good," Ten noted, scribbling in his book. "But don't slack off just because the Sentinels are doing a lot of the work."

Batman's eyes narrowed further, his gaze fixed on Ten. "Sentinels aren't here to replace the police."

Ten continued scribbling. "Next up—pollution. Both air and water quality have improved by 95%. Expect some weather changes soon. Corruption—" He looked up at Gordon again. "How're the new hires doing since, you know, most of the old force was arrested for corruption?"

"They're… doing well," Gordon admitted. "The fresh recruits are enthusiastic, and the Sentinels have taken the pressure off us. The new force seems committed to keeping the law."

"Good to hear." Ten flipped to another page. "Now, about those unclean streets. I've seen back alleys still filled with garbage. Get that sorted out before the end of the week. Wayne Enterprises will provide new equipment."

Ten didn't even glance at Batman when he mentioned Wayne.

"And the issue of homelessness and poverty. My shelters have helped a lot, but we can't solve everything with just shelters. We need more occupations and hope. There are still places, like this strip club, exploiting people when they're at their lowest." He turned to Batman, a serious edge in his voice. "Batman, I need you to handle that. I'll give you clearance. I want Gotham cleaned up."

Batman's expression hardened. "Gotham has always been more complicated than a simple clean-up. But I will sort this out with Gordan."

"I know," Ten agreed. "But it's about time the police stop relying on vigilantes. Gotham's changing, and I don't want an incompetent force—resignations if you can't even do your job, period. Learn to do right; seek justice. Defend the oppressed. Take up the cause of the fatherless; plead the case of the widow." Isaiah 1:17

Ten's tone grew more serious as he continued. "And as for the newly emerging criminals, there's a power vacuum in Gotham's underworld left by the big bads, but I want any small-timers or wannabes shut down before they can take root. We don't need more joker nor Two-face"

Gordon nodded slowly. "We've been keeping an eye out for anyone trying to fill that gap."

"Good," Ten said, closing his notebook with a snap. "Because I want Gotham clean and safe by next Monday."

"Why the deadline?" Batman asked, his voice cold and precise.

"Nion is reopening Gotham—a fresh start for this city," Ten said, standing up from his seat. "That's all. See you later."

As Ten turned to leave, Batman took a step forward. "You're not leaving. You're under arrest for property damage and causing chaos in a public venue."

Ten looked genuinely surprised. "What?"

"Commissioner, cuff him," Batman ordered in his neutral, unshakable tone.

Gordon hesitated, looking between Batman and Ten, before slowly reaching for the cuffs on his belt.

"You will not!" Ten snapped. "I'm an official envoy of your king on official duty! I have the authority to punish criminals."

"But this is Earth," Batman replied firmly.

Ten glared at him. "Gordon, if you put those cuffs on me, you can forget about ever working as a cop again."

Gordon wavered for a moment, but Batman didn't blink. "Gordon doesn't care about that. He'll arrest you for breaking the law. You can call a lawyer."

Ten took a step back as Gordon approached, his eyes scanning Batman. Then, noticing a faint twitch at the corner of Batman's mouth, realization dawned. "Wait a minute… you're enjoying this, aren't you?"

Batman's lip twitched ever so slightly, betraying a hint of satisfaction.

Gordon raised an eyebrow. "Batman?"

"I hate you," Ten muttered, lightly punching Batman's chest. "But you're not arresting me."

In a flash, Ten blitzed past them, heading for the door. The police standing guard outside parted immediately, not wanting to get involved.

Gordon and Batman followed him out just in time to see a helmet form around Ten's head. He climbed onto a sleek, advanced-looking bike, the design familiar to Batman—his own Bat-Bike, but modified with golden circuitry and a circular headlight, its design more slick and alien.

"Stay tight, Gotham," Ten called out as he revved the engine.

Though it was an energy-based bike, it roared with power, the wheels glowing golden before it took off with blinding speed, leaving Batman and Gordon watching as he vanished into the night.

"Ship, set course for Central City!" Ten ordered the bike.

The bike hummed in response, and within moments, Ten was out of Gotham, breaking every speed limit on the way.

His bike—named S.H.I.P.—was a hybrid of a Martian Bio-Ship and a Mechmorph, something Zion had obtained from King J'emm. It took very little convincing. Bio-ships were rare, and with the Omnitrix, Zion had turned it into the perfect hybrid. Now, it was a hyper-evolving machine, adapting to every challenge.

As he sped away, Ten grinned under his helmet. "Finally, something with a little style."

*****

{For all those complained about the MINI cooper, its a good car. okay!(╬▔皿▔)╯}

Monday chapter might be late, depending on my mood and motivation. Comment if you want more chap! I can't understand graph so I don't know if you like it or not.

Please comment to keep me motivated~!o(￣▽￣)d