Sequel: Death's a Joke. ›
Who Says That ***'s Not an Art?
Missing The Handle.
The Joker let out a frustrated growl before ripping his prized knife away from her which was then stuffed into one of his inside pockets. Her merciless laughs haunted the Joker as the sound echoed down the corridor he was now scurrying down.
“You alright boss? You’re looking kinda pale,” Nagged one of the masked idiots as the Joker entered the room while running his hand through his tangled hair.
“Don’t I always?” the Joker chimed before carelessly shooting the man through his skull, not even bothering to watch him slump to the ground motionlessly.
The rest of the goons swapped panicked expressions; all of them in fear of what the Joker would do in his restless mood. With slight shaking motions one of the Joker’s oldest henchmen stood to his feet.
“Um, we recently received the order of explosives you wanted. We could always go and blow some stuff up?” He informed the Joker, which seemed to have an affect on him as he chuckled while he crouched to the height of the dead man and prodded his face.
The Joker nodded before holding up his finger to indicate that he would be a minute. He hummed to himself while yanking the drawers’ cupboards open in the building’s kitchen, throwing cans and wrapped pieces of moulded food. He threw some dried bread and a half eaten leg of ham onto a chipped plate, brushing the crumpled dead spider and cobwebs off it first. He filled a cup that was missing the handle with some water before skipping with it towards the room she was in.
“Hello again,” He laughed with a grin that was suppose to look cheery but ended up looking manic.
He placed the broken plate and cup near the chair before skipping over to her, ignoring her glares or the fact she wasn’t talking – he was just glad she had stopped laughing. He pushed the chair onto a tilt before grabbing the rope so she was hanging from the chair towards the ground, only 2 of the chair legs where on the ground. With a swipe of his blade the rope cut from her body. He wrapped an arm around her just before she scraped the ground. He turned her around in his arms so that she looked at him.
“Now, I want you to be a good girl while I’m out and eat up all your food,” He urged, stroking his thumb affectionately against her cheek before dropping her to the ground and skipping out the door. Only after he had re-entered the room full of the masked goons his eyes caught the skin coloured smudge on his glove.
She picked at the food while sipping the water; she sat cross-legged while gazing around the room with some awe. After a while she lay down to look at the ceiling, only getting distracted by the odd rat that scurried across her legs.
“Oh I, I just died in your arms tonight,
It must have been something you said,
I just died in your arms tonight,” She sang to herself before laughing herself to sleep.
“You alright boss? You’re looking kinda pale,” Nagged one of the masked idiots as the Joker entered the room while running his hand through his tangled hair.
“Don’t I always?” the Joker chimed before carelessly shooting the man through his skull, not even bothering to watch him slump to the ground motionlessly.
The rest of the goons swapped panicked expressions; all of them in fear of what the Joker would do in his restless mood. With slight shaking motions one of the Joker’s oldest henchmen stood to his feet.
“Um, we recently received the order of explosives you wanted. We could always go and blow some stuff up?” He informed the Joker, which seemed to have an affect on him as he chuckled while he crouched to the height of the dead man and prodded his face.
The Joker nodded before holding up his finger to indicate that he would be a minute. He hummed to himself while yanking the drawers’ cupboards open in the building’s kitchen, throwing cans and wrapped pieces of moulded food. He threw some dried bread and a half eaten leg of ham onto a chipped plate, brushing the crumpled dead spider and cobwebs off it first. He filled a cup that was missing the handle with some water before skipping with it towards the room she was in.
“Hello again,” He laughed with a grin that was suppose to look cheery but ended up looking manic.
He placed the broken plate and cup near the chair before skipping over to her, ignoring her glares or the fact she wasn’t talking – he was just glad she had stopped laughing. He pushed the chair onto a tilt before grabbing the rope so she was hanging from the chair towards the ground, only 2 of the chair legs where on the ground. With a swipe of his blade the rope cut from her body. He wrapped an arm around her just before she scraped the ground. He turned her around in his arms so that she looked at him.
“Now, I want you to be a good girl while I’m out and eat up all your food,” He urged, stroking his thumb affectionately against her cheek before dropping her to the ground and skipping out the door. Only after he had re-entered the room full of the masked goons his eyes caught the skin coloured smudge on his glove.
She picked at the food while sipping the water; she sat cross-legged while gazing around the room with some awe. After a while she lay down to look at the ceiling, only getting distracted by the odd rat that scurried across her legs.
“Oh I, I just died in your arms tonight,
It must have been something you said,
I just died in your arms tonight,” She sang to herself before laughing herself to sleep.
♠ ♠ ♠
If you want order in Gotham, Batman must take off his mask and turn himself in...or atleast comment please. I'd love to know if you like this story so far; even if you'd commented before!