A normal walk down the street.

Normal citizens,

Normal weather(For Gotham at least),

Normal street,

Normal everything.

Except one person who walked along the street.

Me.

I'm Mabel. Yes, I know my name is absolutely horrible. All prissy and frilly—I sound like an eight year old school girl or something.

But of course I'm not.

I'm the daughter of the best villain around, The Joker. Well, he's been the best up until today.

Today daddy promised me that I could become a villain. I've been looking forward to it since I could walk. My thirteenth birthday. I have my outfit planned out, and my name, and my weapon. Everything was going to be perfect. True, I don't have any superpowers, but neither did my daddy, and look at him! The only thing I haven't planned is what my first act of villainy will be. My daddy said that he will buy me my fist gun. It's tradition. If you're born into evil then your parents have to buy you your first weapon. I wonder if that's true for the other side.

I used to have a mother. According to daddy, she was really evil. But she died. Like I care. Instead, Quin is my mother. I really don't care. In fact, she's really quite fun. We all share the signature laugh. Quin learned it, and I was born with it.

I'm walking home to villain HQ, an old abandoned factory. We have one in quite a few towns. I've got a room there. Okay, enough explaining. Back to the story.

I walked across the road to the factory. It was really dumpy looking, and I couldn't have anyone being suspicious, so I had to be really sneaky about it. When no one was looking, I ran to the factory and slipped through the windows. I threw my backpack on the floor and started upstairs. "Hey Mabel," said my friend, Demon. He became a villain last year. His real name is Frank, but no one likes it, including him, so we all call him Demon. "Hey," I nodded. "That'll be the last time you call me by that name," I said. "I'm gonna talk to daddy about becoming a full villain right now." "Cool. Good luck." I waved at him and ran upstairs. "Daddy," I said, knocking on his door. "Yes pumpkin?" He asked. "It's my thirteenth birthday." He clapped. "That's right. And today you're going to rob Gotham bank." I squealed, then slapped myself. "Ew," I shuddered. "I sound like a girl." He nodded. "Never do that again. Now go put on your outfit and I'll get your gun." I ran out to my room and slipped on my new outfit—A green shirt with a big capital 'R' on the chest, black leggings, a green and black belt, black combat boots, and my black mask. I walked back into daddy's room and smirked. He let out a maniacal laugh, and I joined him. That was how we showed affection. "My little girl all grown up! How exciting! And here's your weapon!" He handed me a black box. Slowly I opened it. Inside lay a sleek black gun, and a large pack of bullets. "Thank you daddy!" I said, hugging him. I lifted the gun. It felt warm and firm in my hands. I shot a bullet at the picture of Batman on the wall. "This is perfect." He smiled even wider and patted me on the back. "And one more thing..." He pulled what looked like a can of spray paint from his belt. "Nice," I said. I never expected him to give me a bottle of poison paint. It colored like regular paint, but it burned and itched like crazy. I hooked it to my belt. "Now go get yourself arrested," He said happily. "I can't wait to see who tries to catch you!" I smiled and ran out. I slid down the banister and grinned. "Behold my amazing self," I said to Demon. He grinned too. "I'm beholding. So what do I call you now?"

"Radiation. I am Radiation."