Keystone City, Christmas Eve...
"P-p-p-please! Leave me alone! OOOWWW!!!!"
Pete fell down on his knees. He had just been kicked in the crotch. His tormentor looked down at him, as Pete wimped in the snowy back alley.
"Gimme the bag, kid."
"C-come on, it's Christmas, man..."
"Bag." the attacker said mercilessly. Pete finally gave in, and handed the abuser the red shoulder-bag.
The man looked through the bag. "Good boy. And now, the wallet."
"Oh, COME ON!!!"
"Wallet, please."
Pete took out his wallet, and handed it to his mugger, only to get it thrown back in his face.
"Not your own wallet, dumbass!" The guy shouted.
Pete opened his jacket and dug his hand into an inner-pocket. He took out a much more expensive-looking one, made out of black leather. The man went through the wallet, and smiled.
"Nice." he said. "Gonna be a merry Christmas for me. Now..." the mugger pointed at an old dumpster. "Jump in."
"...What?"
"Get in the dumpster, jackass!"
Pete didn't dare opposing him, so he jumped in. Once he was inside, his tormentor froze the dumpster, so that he could't get out.
"I will be right back." Captain Cold said, placing his gun pack in the holster hidden inside his jacket.
...
"Come now, Joseph, it's going to be alright." A woman was hugging her little crying boy, trying to comfort him. He didn't yell, he just stood there while big tears came down from his eyes. "We are still going to have a nice Christmas, but we have to..."
"Hey, lady!" A man came to her with a red bag. "Is this yours?"
"What in... Yes, YES, it is mine!" The woman face brightened up, and her son stopped crying, drying his nose with his sheave. She opened the bag, and it was all in there, including her son's present for her brother. "Thank you! Thank you so much, and merry..."
As she looked up, the man was gone.
...
"Upsidaisi!" Captain Cold pulled Pete out of the dumpster, and threw him on the ground. Pete got up again and took a swing at Cold. Cold just grabbed the hand. And then he squished it.
"GOD, MY HAND!"
"Relax, it's hardly sprained."
Pete were in pain, and he smelled like trash. "Sick basterd..." he mumbled.
"That's rich, coming from a guy robbing people on Christmas Eve." Cold replied.
"Oh, up yours, man!" Pete said. "You don't do nothing but robbing banks!"
"Not this time of the year. I like to pretend for just one night, that the world is jolly and peaceful."
"Screw you, man!" Pete said, and then ran for it.
"Hey, I'm letting you keep your own wallet, ain't I?!" Cold yelled after Pete. "Merry Christmas, a$$hole!"
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