Sequel: A Serious House on Serious Earth ›
Status: Sequel? Yes? No?
The Joker and the Thief
Matthew Bingham
After signing the appropriate documents, which basically made it impossible for me to back out, I was allowed to leave the MCU. By that time it was well pass noon. I was unsure of where I could find the Joker so I wondered around for an hour before deciding to head back to my mother's house to take a much needed shower. No one was home, as usual, so I let myself in though the window and went directly to the bathroom. I couldn't hear over the running water; I was oblivious to the uncommon sound of creaking floor broads. I stepped out of the shower and changed into a clean set of clothes. With a loud click, I unlocked the bathroom door and opened it. I was two steps into the hallway when a familiar gloved hand covered my mouth. I didn't have time to react as the Joker pushed me roughly up against the wall and placed a much too familiar knife to my cheek. The layers of make-up made it impossible for me to read his expression but something told me, probably the knife, that he wasn't too happy.
“Hi.” I squeaked when he didn't immediately say anything. Instead, he added more pressure to the knife against my cheek and said “Where have you been?” The metal knife was cold against my still wet face. “Uh, I had to take care of something.” The Joker applied more pressure and I could feel the knife break the skin. “Okay, I got arrested!” The knife stopped. I felt a thin line of blood start to travel down my cheek. He waited for me to go on. “Dent said he would clear my criminal history if I would testify against Maroni.” The Joker considered me for a moment. “And what did you say?” “You think I'm an idiot? Of course I said 'no'.” Only then did he back up and let me breathe. My heart rate finally returned to a normal setting.
But it picked up again when the Joker grabbed me roughly by the arm and started to pull me though the house. We went out the front door and down the concrete steps and onto the empty sidewalk. It was an awkward sight to see the Joker in the sunlight; it didn't fit. His grip never loosen as we walked to the small black car I drove to Gambol's the previous night, which was parked neatly on the side of the street. If it was there when I arrived I didn't notice it. He pushed me into the passenger seat before he slammed the door and went to the driver's side.
As he drove I tried not to move; I wanted to sink into the leather interior and disappear. He drove the speed limit but he still ran a few stop signs and made some illegal lane changes. I wanted so much to put my seat belt on but the motions would go against my survival instincts. “Where are we going?” I muttered, not sure if could hear me. “We're going to visit someone.” I grew more confused when he circled City Hall and parked the car in the alley behind the building. Gotham’s City Hall wasn’t built of limestone and adorned with large Greek columns like your usual City Halls. Instead it was a large skyscraper. It was the second largest building in Gotham behind Wayne Tower. The sun reflected in building’s thousands of glass windows.
I decided to spare myself the abuse and get out of the car with the Joker’s ‘help’. I followed him to the back of the car where he unlocked the trunk. An awful smell reached my nose which almost made me turn away. I cautiously peered into the trunk but only to turn quickly away again. I wondered how long the dead guy had been in trunk. The only thing more disturbing than the smell was the dead guy’s attire. He was wearing what appeared to be black hockey padding, a five dollar plastic cape that he probably got from a party store around Halloween and a black mask with pointed bat ears. His face was painted in a lot messier version of the Joker’s makeup. When I noticed the blood around the lips did I see the jagged cuts that help form the bright red smile.
I watched as the Joker grabbed a long brown rope, which was hidden beneath the dead guy. The Joker pushed it into my arms. The coarse threads rubbed against my skin causing it to burn. He then handed me a small key card. It was a blue three inch rectangle with a black bar code type thing running the length of it. On the front, above the name MATTHEW BINGHAM were four word typed in elegant but legible print. GOTHAM CITY GOVERNMENT BUILING took up most on the room on the card. “Who’s Matthew Bingham and where did you get this card?” I asked. “Mr. Bingham was a simple janitor for this great city but now…… he’s probably in a body bag in the morgue. It took that off of him right before I slit his throat.” The Joker recited it like it was bed time story. “Now open the door before I have to kill you too.” I ran to the iron door as the Joker lifted the dead body out of the trunk and over his shoulders. The way he did it you would have thought he was lifting a sack of potatoes.
With the rope in hand and the key in the other I swiped the card through the lock. A quick second passed before the door unlocked. I held it open for the Joker and his luggage. Inside to our left was a stairway and to the right was a single gray metal elevator. Directly in front of us was along hallway and several other doors. “The elevator.” The Joker said, still showing signs that he was carrying what was probably a 300 pound man over his shoulder. I had to swipe the card again to call the elevator. Twenty seconds passed before the elevator door dinged open. The Joker went first again and with his free hand pressed the very top button which was labeled ROOF.
“Hi.” I squeaked when he didn't immediately say anything. Instead, he added more pressure to the knife against my cheek and said “Where have you been?” The metal knife was cold against my still wet face. “Uh, I had to take care of something.” The Joker applied more pressure and I could feel the knife break the skin. “Okay, I got arrested!” The knife stopped. I felt a thin line of blood start to travel down my cheek. He waited for me to go on. “Dent said he would clear my criminal history if I would testify against Maroni.” The Joker considered me for a moment. “And what did you say?” “You think I'm an idiot? Of course I said 'no'.” Only then did he back up and let me breathe. My heart rate finally returned to a normal setting.
But it picked up again when the Joker grabbed me roughly by the arm and started to pull me though the house. We went out the front door and down the concrete steps and onto the empty sidewalk. It was an awkward sight to see the Joker in the sunlight; it didn't fit. His grip never loosen as we walked to the small black car I drove to Gambol's the previous night, which was parked neatly on the side of the street. If it was there when I arrived I didn't notice it. He pushed me into the passenger seat before he slammed the door and went to the driver's side.
As he drove I tried not to move; I wanted to sink into the leather interior and disappear. He drove the speed limit but he still ran a few stop signs and made some illegal lane changes. I wanted so much to put my seat belt on but the motions would go against my survival instincts. “Where are we going?” I muttered, not sure if could hear me. “We're going to visit someone.” I grew more confused when he circled City Hall and parked the car in the alley behind the building. Gotham’s City Hall wasn’t built of limestone and adorned with large Greek columns like your usual City Halls. Instead it was a large skyscraper. It was the second largest building in Gotham behind Wayne Tower. The sun reflected in building’s thousands of glass windows.
I decided to spare myself the abuse and get out of the car with the Joker’s ‘help’. I followed him to the back of the car where he unlocked the trunk. An awful smell reached my nose which almost made me turn away. I cautiously peered into the trunk but only to turn quickly away again. I wondered how long the dead guy had been in trunk. The only thing more disturbing than the smell was the dead guy’s attire. He was wearing what appeared to be black hockey padding, a five dollar plastic cape that he probably got from a party store around Halloween and a black mask with pointed bat ears. His face was painted in a lot messier version of the Joker’s makeup. When I noticed the blood around the lips did I see the jagged cuts that help form the bright red smile.
I watched as the Joker grabbed a long brown rope, which was hidden beneath the dead guy. The Joker pushed it into my arms. The coarse threads rubbed against my skin causing it to burn. He then handed me a small key card. It was a blue three inch rectangle with a black bar code type thing running the length of it. On the front, above the name MATTHEW BINGHAM were four word typed in elegant but legible print. GOTHAM CITY GOVERNMENT BUILING took up most on the room on the card. “Who’s Matthew Bingham and where did you get this card?” I asked. “Mr. Bingham was a simple janitor for this great city but now…… he’s probably in a body bag in the morgue. It took that off of him right before I slit his throat.” The Joker recited it like it was bed time story. “Now open the door before I have to kill you too.” I ran to the iron door as the Joker lifted the dead body out of the trunk and over his shoulders. The way he did it you would have thought he was lifting a sack of potatoes.
With the rope in hand and the key in the other I swiped the card through the lock. A quick second passed before the door unlocked. I held it open for the Joker and his luggage. Inside to our left was a stairway and to the right was a single gray metal elevator. Directly in front of us was along hallway and several other doors. “The elevator.” The Joker said, still showing signs that he was carrying what was probably a 300 pound man over his shoulder. I had to swipe the card again to call the elevator. Twenty seconds passed before the elevator door dinged open. The Joker went first again and with his free hand pressed the very top button which was labeled ROOF.