Sequel: Death's a Joke. ›
Who Says That ***'s Not an Art?
Sometimes The Things We Fear The Most.
Has he hiked back into the room to find the other door swinging on its hinges slightly with a high pitch squeak while a single upturned card lay as she did moments before. With an inaudible sigh he laced the card between his fingers as he left.
“Is the boss okay?” murmured one of the goons to his fellow colleague as he pointed in the direction of the Joker. The other man shook his head while shrugging in reply.
The Joker rocked back and forth in a steady motion while mumbling to himself and thumbing the card she had left behind a few weeks ago. He stared straight ahead before his expression changed so that his eyebrows almost became one. He shot up from his seat before hurrying off into a room opposite the TV.
Over the growing weeks since her departure the Joker had become obsessed with her, and he hated himself for it. Batsy had become to involved with sorting out the rising robberies so he wasn’t fun to play with recently – but her, he couldn’t understand.
“Another day, another question,” He chuckled as if possessed to himself as he stuck the card to the wall.
This room had become an almost shrine to her; with the walls covered in newspaper clipping and odd articles about her. Many of time he had sat in here for hours at a time re-reading the same newsprint in the hope of discovering something about her. He seemed in a trance until the TV, which someone had just turned onto the news, blared out an all too familiar voice.
“Ha, ha…ha. Y’know Gotham, sometimes the things we fear the most just have isty bitsy ways of turning up,” Cackled a harsh voice as the image of an almost abandoned, darkened corridor (which the news reader had warned of being disturbing clip), flickered across the screen. The centre of the room had a police officer tied to a wooden chair.
“And if you thought a little thing like a drop from the top of Gotham’s tallest skyscraper was going to see me off…think again. Sleep tight,” Growled Ace’s voice as she came into view on the recording. With the words of ‘sleep tight’ she aimed at the policeman’s head before a distinct sound of a shot and groan, followed by the film ending.
The Joker leaned against the door frame while he clapped slowly before straightening up, all the men in the room turned to his direction. His attention never pulled away from the TV.
“I’ve got to hand it to her, she’s a ruthless bitch,” Stated the Joker with his eyes sparkling in admiration before he broke into a laughing fit; making all the men turn and shift uneasily in their seats. They where afraid, everyone who heard it was, apart from her.
As he straightened up he gave mumbled to them about how they weren’t going to be doing anymore activities for a while. Instead they would wait until something larger was to happen or if a new opportunity arrived for them.
“Is the boss okay?” murmured one of the goons to his fellow colleague as he pointed in the direction of the Joker. The other man shook his head while shrugging in reply.
The Joker rocked back and forth in a steady motion while mumbling to himself and thumbing the card she had left behind a few weeks ago. He stared straight ahead before his expression changed so that his eyebrows almost became one. He shot up from his seat before hurrying off into a room opposite the TV.
Over the growing weeks since her departure the Joker had become obsessed with her, and he hated himself for it. Batsy had become to involved with sorting out the rising robberies so he wasn’t fun to play with recently – but her, he couldn’t understand.
“Another day, another question,” He chuckled as if possessed to himself as he stuck the card to the wall.
This room had become an almost shrine to her; with the walls covered in newspaper clipping and odd articles about her. Many of time he had sat in here for hours at a time re-reading the same newsprint in the hope of discovering something about her. He seemed in a trance until the TV, which someone had just turned onto the news, blared out an all too familiar voice.
“Ha, ha…ha. Y’know Gotham, sometimes the things we fear the most just have isty bitsy ways of turning up,” Cackled a harsh voice as the image of an almost abandoned, darkened corridor (which the news reader had warned of being disturbing clip), flickered across the screen. The centre of the room had a police officer tied to a wooden chair.
“And if you thought a little thing like a drop from the top of Gotham’s tallest skyscraper was going to see me off…think again. Sleep tight,” Growled Ace’s voice as she came into view on the recording. With the words of ‘sleep tight’ she aimed at the policeman’s head before a distinct sound of a shot and groan, followed by the film ending.
The Joker leaned against the door frame while he clapped slowly before straightening up, all the men in the room turned to his direction. His attention never pulled away from the TV.
“I’ve got to hand it to her, she’s a ruthless bitch,” Stated the Joker with his eyes sparkling in admiration before he broke into a laughing fit; making all the men turn and shift uneasily in their seats. They where afraid, everyone who heard it was, apart from her.
As he straightened up he gave mumbled to them about how they weren’t going to be doing anymore activities for a while. Instead they would wait until something larger was to happen or if a new opportunity arrived for them.