Every good villain is the hero of his own story.
It should have been a quiet night at Harry's, the pub where a selected fringe of Central City's criminal society had long ago come to use as their 'local'. It was the place where you could discuss your latest scheme, get sympathies because the Flash foiled it yet again, and elaborate on complicated plans to kill him in a creative sort of way.
Of course, those never seemed to work either, but it did a guy good to talk where nobody judged or mocked, aside from a few jabs. They'd all been there.
But the pub was more crowded than it was on a usual Tuesday night. And noisier.
Everyone had heard about the 'incident' in New Mexico.
Everyone had their opinion about it.
"You don't get it," snarled Mirror Master, his gloved fingers gripping the handle of his beer mug so hard the leather strained. "If they fired that big honkin' cannon of theirs on a building with people around, what's stopping them from using that thi