Disclaimer: I'm running out of things DC owes me for...oh wait, a blonde Batgirl. Right. They still owe me for that one...I am unrepentant about fiddling about in their 'verse because of Alicia Silverstone.
This story is part of the CATverse, the story arc listing for which can be found at freewebs dot com slash catverse. It takes place in Arc Four, right after "The Truce in the Trenches" by Twinings.
You know what sucks about being dead?
I mean, aside from the obvious 'Deceased' thing?
Apparently, most legitimate employers in the area want things like "Documented Proof You Exist" before they'll hire you, and since according to official government records we're all dead and buried, that particular requirement is one we're unable to meet at the moment.
I'm starting to think we should have thought this whole 'Let's fake our deaths!' thing through more thoroughly.
We've been living by our wits lately, but our petty cash supply is dwindling fast. We can't pull another heist-not so close to the last one we did in Metropolis anyways (though I'm not certain if that counts as a 'heist' so much as 'tomfoolery')-we're still pretty infamous in certain 'undesirable' circles and the last thing we need is to draw more attention to ourselves, so that leaves out doing any 'special' work for any of the bosses in Gotham.
So…fake IDs and classified ads, here we come!
The Gotham Times classified ads lay stretched in front of the Captain, Al and Techie like a neatly printed black and white wasteland.
The three had been staring at the newspaper for close to an hour, crossing out anything and everything they weren't qualified for, covering the newsprint in a smattering of various colored inks as they scribbled on anything they wouldn't be able to apply for.
Now it's not that they didn't have any marketable skills, instead it was the fact that they couldn't prove they had any marketable skills.
Even if the three weren't notorious henchgirls known throughout Gotham's underground, it was next to impossible to find someone who'd hire them without documentation of some kind or another.
Thankfully for the Captain, Al and Techie, there were ways of getting around that. Now that they had fake IDs (Corrine Newcastle, Arlene Putnam and Teryl Adams, respectively), their options for employment were a bit better.
Not much better, mind, but a bit. They still couldn't go in for anything high profile (therefore, high paying) and had to stay out of the public eye as much as humanly possible for safety's sake, but there were several possibilities glaring up at them from the Times.
Easy jobs...mostly grunt work...
Thankfully the sorts of jobs that people didn't usually run into trouble while they were doing them.
Of course, these three had a knack for getting into trouble regardless of the odds to the contrary...adventures in gainful employment would be no exception.