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My name is Harvey Leslie, and I am on the run.

I don't know how this "League of Extraordinary Gentlement" group found me, but I can tell you one thing for sure. They won't catch me. It all started when I was rooting around in my dad's old office, looking for anything to sell. It seemed a waste of space to have his stuff around, him being dead and all. We had only recieved the note from San Prisca a few weeks earlier. I had found a large, heavy box, and it changed everything. It contained old notes, explaining the entire thing and diagraming all that it did. And down in the bottom, right where my father had put it, next to his mask was the device itself. Bingo. I had heard of it before, the strange formula that my father had used years ago to almost kill the Batman, but I had thought it was all just a bedtime story from a demented old fool. But now I could see, this was the real deal.
I did most of the formula alterations in the school chemistry lab, even earning a bit of extra credit for it. Following the old notes precisely I seperated out the main components of the formula, strength, speed, and endurance, storing them individually for a more effective use. Next came altering the gauntlet itself, a much harder task. It took me a total of three months to do it all, but eventually, it was ready for a test run. I went down to the docks, looking for the fights that everyone was always talking about. That was my first mistake. At first they wouldn't even notice me. A scrawny guy against some of the toughest brawlers in the area was of no interest at all. Then they saw what I had brought with me, and everything suddenlly got a whole lot more interesting. I was promised a thousand dollars for each fight I won, and a slow death if I ever lost. In each and every fight I had the advantage. My oppenent may have had strength, but I had my fathers formula. I plugged in,and was suddenly king of the arena, a god among meer mortals. There was never even a contest, only slaughter. I took the name Pooka, more of a joke than anything, after that jumbo rabbit named Harvey. Pookas were mischevious and sly, everything I wasn't. Eventually, word got around, that L.A. housed the worlds best fighter. Stronger and stronger men came from all around, but there was never anyone that could beat me. I became stronger, learning how to use the new dosage system to tailor hundreds of different combinations of the three formula parts. And then they found me, asking my help in things that I've never heard of or cared about. They said that if I helped, that they would get me free of all the mounting murder charges from all of the men I had killed in the ring. So I ran.
My name is Harvey Leslie. My father was Bane. I am now a murderer.