‹ Prequel: Who Says That ***'s Not an Art?
Sequel: Ha Ha You're Dead. ›
Death's a Joke.
Cold Sweat.
The Joker tossed his body around the bed in distress as he tried to sleep but his mind had other ideas. He straightened himself upright in a cold sweat as he run is overgrown nails through his hair. He hated the fact she spoke only half sentences and questions leaving him to dwell in insomnia and confusion. He hated that she knew about him taking credit for her work to other criminals. He hated her but most importantly he hated the fact he knew that last statement was a lie.
Snapping him back into reality was the rhythmic knocks against the solid oak door. The Joker let out a low growl as an indication not to enter his personal space, he had barely thought it would work but for some miraculous reason it had and the goon on the other side thought it would be best to shout his news from behind the tarnished wood.
“Hey boss! You don't have to worry about that girl anymore - we took care of her for you,” Boasted the man in a loud voice, hoping the door’s thickness wouldn’t muffle the words too much.
His lips flickered into an overconfident grin as he heard the lock rattle open, he waited patiently for the Joker to step out and congratulate him; maybe even give him a promotion. Only half of his thoughts were correct as indeed the Joker had soon appeared in front of him but there was not congratulatory handshake just a gripping sensation around his throat.
“What the hell have you done?” Demanded the Joker in an angered voice his eyes flickered dangerously with half a look of maddened rage and another of amusement as the man began coughing. He let his grip loosen only to grab his shirt as the man started to explain
“W-we noticed her down an alleyway back from seeing a man about…err, well some supplies, not that you care but…anyway, and there stood on the pavement was her. Damn she looked like you; we thought it was you at first. We remembered you saying you hated her so we beat her up a little and then…well we called Arkham Asylum to tell them where she was – last thing we saw they had injected her and through her into a white van,” Wheezed the goon as fast as possible hoping the Joker wouldn’t here all the details – but he did.
The Joker didn’t even feel the usual rush of enjoyment with killing him, he was too stressed with the prospect of putting the person who was distracting the police, and more importantly the Batman, from him behind bars to be caged within those padded walls he had grown to despise.
She seemed to be unusually content with the idea of being in Arkham for the first time, the nurses didn’t know whether it was the fact she was still a walking drug cocktail or if Ace was just keeping her insanity to herself. One thing was for sure, none of the staff wanted to go past her. Luckily for them she had been put on her own high security corridor meaning she was the only patient so that area could be ignored several times over without a complaint and once someone complained? Well then it would be their job to go and see her.
“Why so serious?” She questioned through her laugh at one of the security cameras as she sat in a ridiculously tiny cell dressed like the china doll version of the Joker.
Snapping him back into reality was the rhythmic knocks against the solid oak door. The Joker let out a low growl as an indication not to enter his personal space, he had barely thought it would work but for some miraculous reason it had and the goon on the other side thought it would be best to shout his news from behind the tarnished wood.
“Hey boss! You don't have to worry about that girl anymore - we took care of her for you,” Boasted the man in a loud voice, hoping the door’s thickness wouldn’t muffle the words too much.
His lips flickered into an overconfident grin as he heard the lock rattle open, he waited patiently for the Joker to step out and congratulate him; maybe even give him a promotion. Only half of his thoughts were correct as indeed the Joker had soon appeared in front of him but there was not congratulatory handshake just a gripping sensation around his throat.
“What the hell have you done?” Demanded the Joker in an angered voice his eyes flickered dangerously with half a look of maddened rage and another of amusement as the man began coughing. He let his grip loosen only to grab his shirt as the man started to explain
“W-we noticed her down an alleyway back from seeing a man about…err, well some supplies, not that you care but…anyway, and there stood on the pavement was her. Damn she looked like you; we thought it was you at first. We remembered you saying you hated her so we beat her up a little and then…well we called Arkham Asylum to tell them where she was – last thing we saw they had injected her and through her into a white van,” Wheezed the goon as fast as possible hoping the Joker wouldn’t here all the details – but he did.
The Joker didn’t even feel the usual rush of enjoyment with killing him, he was too stressed with the prospect of putting the person who was distracting the police, and more importantly the Batman, from him behind bars to be caged within those padded walls he had grown to despise.
She seemed to be unusually content with the idea of being in Arkham for the first time, the nurses didn’t know whether it was the fact she was still a walking drug cocktail or if Ace was just keeping her insanity to herself. One thing was for sure, none of the staff wanted to go past her. Luckily for them she had been put on her own high security corridor meaning she was the only patient so that area could be ignored several times over without a complaint and once someone complained? Well then it would be their job to go and see her.
“Why so serious?” She questioned through her laugh at one of the security cameras as she sat in a ridiculously tiny cell dressed like the china doll version of the Joker.