He was on curtain call. Five seconds to showtime. And The Joker's performance this evening would be one of which Gotham City would never forget. They would rave. They would cheer. They would, more importantly... smile. Even if forcibly.
The stage this evening happened to be the Gotham Chemical Works. He had taken the liberty of booking himself for this little extravaganza. But to the oblivious workers inside, the show was to be routine. As they went about their buisness in accomplishing what they were being payed for, he decided that it was past time for a rewrite to take place. A wide smile came upon his lips, as he got into character.
Oh, how glorious tonight's performance would be.
The Gotham City Chemical Works were alot more technologically advanced than one would expect, thanks to a grant from none other than Wayne Enterprises in the city's campaign for a brighter tommorow. Thus, the place was almost jam-packed with television monitors displaying the evening news. A perfect opening act.
"And in other news today, A bizarre set of happenings among the city's nightly front. Reports are flying in of sightings from both the city's Eastern and Western districts that multiple occurances of what police forces are describing as 'mass arson' have surfaced within the past hour. Both police and the city's fire departments have been racing to both extinguish the sudden fires and conduct invesitagations on the perpetrators responsible. No word from police Commisioner Loeb on the arsons have been made as of-
"-Goooooooooooood evening, ladies and jerks!", A cheerful voice bellowed, overlapping the news achor's speech.
The chemical workers looked up, confused at the noise as the news report began to fade into an obscure static. Within moments, however, it was completely replaced with what seemed to be a carved clown's smile in a porcealin mask. The figure donned in it leaned back, revealing himself fully in the same manner as he had when giving Henry Claridge a show.
"Your regularly scheduled programming will commence shortly, I assure you. I'm a clown of few words. And many giggles, too! HAHAHAHA!", The Joker howled, before instantly resuming his composure.
"But seriously, folks. We dear Gothamites face a grim time in our livelihoods. What, with our police being about as reliable as a sack of severed heads... Our streets being overrun by brutal bimbos in fishnets... Yellow faced apemen breaking out of jail... and not to mention our steadily increasing rodent problem!", He continued, as various headlines accompanied his words with every passing mention of a Gotham vigilante. Almost as if he were conducting his own news report.
"And then there's these recent acts of violent criminality. Gruesome stuff. The arsons, homocides, rapings, traffic violations, and soforth... It just seems as if we upstanding citizens have nowhere to turn to anymore. Who is responsible? Who is to blame? Who must we get out our torches and pitchforks for?", He asked, almost sympathetically.
Then, he paused. Almost as if he were thinking. The people watching the broadcast looked at eachother, still as confused as ever as his banter suddenly continued again.
"Oh. Wait a tick. I'M responsible for all of that!", The Joker laughed, evilly, as he slammed both hands on his 'newsdesk'.
"That's right, boys n' blue. While you're out there hunting down another John Doe, I've been sitting here planning a roast on Gotham. Literally. Those arsonists? You're looking at him. Oh, and don't try for the poker face on that one... it won't fly. I already warned you with the corpse of Henry J. Claridge."
The Joker chuckled, reaching into his jacket.
"Don't get the joke? Allow me to spell it out for you...", He stated, pulling out a very familiar object to the media, as of late: A common Joker playing card.
"Y'see, on the back of this little memos lies a little message. A sonet, if you will, dedicated to all you pigeons and pipsqueaks out there willing to play the game. Don't see anything? Well, naturally. No human eyes could view my little writings. I don't deem them worthy. But switch on even a houseold blacklight, and... WHOOP!"
Instantly, the screen went black. All except strange, small glowing lettering appeared on the screen, as The Joker turned the light back on, madly giggling.
"Hahahaha... Oh, I'm GOOD, aren't I?! But I had to do it. Yep. Just had to. It wouldn't be a very interesting game if I had the coppers on my trail from the very getgo. Or their trained pets, the Bat and Bird."
Sitting back, The Joker placed his hands behind his head.
"And now comes the irony. The arsons? They're going to continue. And it's going to take every single officer on the police force to stop them, because each bomb I've placed within good ole' Gotham only recognises the pattern of a Gotham City Police badge. Think I'm joking? Try to have a member of forensics disarm one. He'll have one hell of a mess to clean up then, won't he? HAHAHAHA!", He continued, maniacally.
"But that isn't the irony. The irony is that while this little game of chicken escalates, I'll be well on my way to the Gotham Chemical Plant. But do try and stop me, Commishy, baby. I don't mind watching your little rentacops endanger the very survival of this city, tonight by trying to tackle little ole' me. Go on. I insist!"
The workers of the Chemical Works turned to eachother again, horrified, as they began looking around for their threatened attacker.
"Back to the chemical plant, yes indeedy do, I'm making a little trip over there. And don't take it as a bluff, I'm telling you because I fancy a challenge, tonight. It's still very much on my to-do list. So plant workers? Be on your toes! Because your dear Joker's making a little pitstop in 3, 2..."
Suddenly, the television shorted out. The terrified workers scrambled, knowing that the possibility of a bombing was very much alive. But quite honestly, that was only the opening act. Now it was time for main event.
Before any worker could escape, a popping noise could be heard, around the room. The people turned their attention to the left and right corridoors of the room, seeing a mass of lime green vapors enter the area. Coughing as it entered their lungs, some tried to escape, while others began to succumb to the fast effects. One by one, workers began laughing uncontrollably, either falling out of their stations or tripping into vats of chemical waste as they did so.
Eventually, within seconds, the entire room was filled with both the gas, and sprawled victims of it. None of them could even move, they were laughing so hard. Music to his ears, as he approached the other side of the twin doors. Throwing them open with ease, eight figures stepped into factory infront of him, donned in what appeared to be old-time gas masks and fedoras. All of them carried both large machine guns in one hand, and metal canisters in the other.
"Gentlemen, I believe these people are in need of assistance."
The eight men spread apart, as a figure once obscured by the gas stepped forward, revealing himself to infact be the same man claiming to be responsible. The Joker stopped, placing a black cane infront of him as he stood, surveying the room.
"So what do you say we be good sports, and end tonight's festivities a tad early?"
The minute that The Joker's laugh errupted, so did gunfire. The helpless, giggling workers in the factory could only watch in hidden horror as their co-workers and eventually themselves were gunned down in a fury of blood and bullets, as the Joker's men made their way deeper into the factory.
Following behind The Joker split his cane in two, revealing a long sword's blade hidden within.
"See, folks, I can be considerate! I understand how it is. Work is stressful. Kids are yammering. You all need your rest!", The Joker gleefully exclaimed, before spinning, and slicing a nearby worker's throat on impact.
"I like to think of myself as a crowd pleaser, truth be told. I'll give my audience anything they want. And tonight, I bid thee rest.", He continued, stabbing one of the workers in the back of the neck, before reaching into his pocket, producing another Joker card, and throwing it. The card flew, landing in another worker's chest as it became apparent that the card was razor tipped.
"Permanent rest! HAHAHAHA!"
Turning around, viewing all of the corpses lying behind him, The Joker placed his cane at his side and leaned on it, taking a slight bow at the smiling faces that greeted him.
"Oh, how I just love a happy ending."
Truly, this was the performance of the century. And the best part? No one was going to disrupt this little number. Nobody, no how.
Unless they were just plain stupid. Then the
real fun would commence.
