Death's a Joke.

The Joker skipped down the abandoned street with a body flung over his right shoulder that made no signs of life. After a few minutes he had chosen his perfect location for the person. He propped up the sleeping female against a lamppost roughly, smirking as she involuntary twitched due to the hard floor that absorbed her heat.

“You drool, you know that?” Mumbled the Joker as he crouched in front of her with his hands on his knees before pushing himself up straight and left her to fight for herself.

Ace found herself awake in a place that she had no recollection of ever visiting. Her body cried out as she pushed herself up better; her body still found any movement to be torture for her. She pulled the hospital gown closer to her frozen flesh as she studied her surroundings before the sound of police cars ripped through her mind causing her to panic slightly. Ace may have been quite slim but she never had the ideal physique when it came to running, she could barely escape the cops when she was healthy but the idea of being fugitive after a major operation wasn’t worth thinking about.

The Joker finished the last of the knots he was placing in the rope that trapped the masked man to a chair with a sadistic smirk on his face as he pulled the rope tighter. The man muffled a cry as the Joker walked around the perfectly round table that had a white silk cloth over it to the chair on the opposite side. The Joker casually sat down and crossed his legs.

“So tell me, are you the real Batman?” questioned the Joker in a taunting manner as he poured tea out of a rose patterned teapot into a china cup that was sat on top of a saucer. The man frayed the rope across his mouth but failed with the rope around his legs and waist.

“No, I’m not, but I’m helping him,” Roared the man through his homemade batman mask as the Joker pretended to sip the tea and nod in interest.

“Mhmm, do you really think he cares about you? Or more importantly did you think you could take on me? Oh that is priceless. Now I planned to have a nice little tea party with Batman but seeing as he couldn’t make it would you like a piece of cake?” the Joker replied, his teeth coming in show as his smile widened.

The man continued to glare across the table but kept glancing down at the mismatched tea cups, large teapots, empty sugar bowls, dried up lemon pieces next to jugs of old cream and milk, tainted forks and spoons and a large stack of different types of cakes which were decorated beautifully making them completely out of place.

“Oh let me guess, you’re on a diet? Pity but you could lose a few pounds if you expect to fly, but let me help you anyway,” The Joker uttered in a voice that, if used by anyone else, would seem caring.

The man struggled in his trapped state as the Joker wandered around and picked up a slice of chocolate cake that was dusted in sugar and had a single sliced strawberry on top before forcing the cake into the man’s mouth; the poisoned food killing him instantly.