Roger - Judgement

I never liked the subways here. Not like the ones back home. Not, home, per se. But back in my city. Maybe that’s what the problem is: I’m all too aware this isn’t my city. But he took my city away from me. With one shot in the night that thug took it all from me. But he didn’t realize what he was triggering. Now I had to take it away from all of them.
The stairs between the subway underground and the street can tell you a lot about a city. In my city they make sure those steps sparkle. Here, it is complete rubbish, covered in newspapers, food, and excrement. But when a town is run by the mob and the rich with there fancy limousines and their drivers, so no one ever sees the piss sliding down the stairs from the drunk at the top. It’ll be the first thing I do when I take this place over. Well, second thing. Right after I kill Bruce.
Across the street from the opera house an old woman drops to the ground with her bag of groceries. No one stops to help. I don’t understand people anymore; they won’t eve protect themselves. Surrounded by all this poverty and gunshots and funerals and they still haven’t realized that if everyone would just help each other out a bit, things would be better. But what am I saying? Humans just aren’t capable. They can’t do anything with out forcing them to do it. I know that. After years of trying to run the League, I know they just aren’t capable of making decisions. So I will make them for them. I don’t have to worry about their warped sense of self preservation. Because I’m not one of them. “Ticket please! You need as ticket mister!” the teller yells at me as I walk in the opera. A group of ushers approach with those stupid covered flashlights. They wave them around after I disappear to the balcony, like their muted lights would ever show anything but an aisle and seat number. Bruce’s problem is he’s the easiest person in the world to find when he’s not on the job. You just have to find the swankiest event and town and find the most garish balcony seats and the most attractive girl and sure enough, he’s there. An old man sings on the stage in German about his father. The music is beautiful. I’ll let them keep that afterwards. Music, that is. They don’t screw that up.
“Alfred! If you could remain with the young lady and escort her home when the opera is finished it would be much appreciated.” He says something assuring in the woman’s ear and any complaint she could possibly have melts away. He’s nothing but cheap tricks, on the job and with people. Not like me. He is not like me.
We exit the back of the opera house and I can’t help but wonder if that still bothers him. If paranoia ever sits in. I know I’ll never feel right in an alley again after what that man did to Lois. I can’t hear Bruce anymore. All I see when I look at him is the only man who stands in my way. The only man who could ever take me down. The only man who could bring about my demise. Yes, this is the best place to do it, in the same alley his parents died. “I’m sorry about Lois,” he says. “Is there anything I can do?” he asks. Clark he calls me.
“I am not Clark anymore.”