Heir to the Clown Prince
By HawkeyeNextGen
They say laughter is the best medicine. Often it is. But for some unfortunate souls out there, laughter can kill you. I'm serious. My dad literally died laughing. Sometimes it can make the whole of reality a joke. But for me, it is a joke worth living. My guys call me by the name of the Jester. I like being called that, even though my actual name is Devin Quinzel. My father never really had a name, nor was there any existing profile of him. The only name I know he went by was Joker. Yep, my dad's a first class villain. But I think there was good inside him before he went insane, and think deep down, there was good in him before he died from exposure to the Titan Formula. My mother told me all about him, even though one of the only things she told me about him is that he was insane. Her name is Harleen Quinzel. My nice foster parents took me to the newly founded ward to visit her once they told me they weren't my real parents. I thought my family would be cursed because of that. She used to be a doctor at that hellish place known as Arkham Asylum. To be honest, I have no idea how she fell in love with a psychopath, unless she was on drugs or something. But I can't disagree with the fact that we think differently. Still, in my opinion, she is literally a bitch, like through and through. She used to put on this damn clown costume that in my opinion made her look like a complete slut. If you ask me, she looks much better in her orange outfit. She used to reside in this place called Arkham City, an entire metropolis built for psychopaths of all shapes and sizes. But all of that was put to an end by someone called the Batman, who was the Joker's archenemy. But enough with everyone else, let's talk a bit about me. Right now, I live in a small apartment building and work part time at Denny's. I tried to get hired by Giant, Costco, and then Wal-Mart. But I got fired. I don't know if it was either my incompetence as a high-functioning sociopath (blame my dad for passing on his retarded genes to me), or my pitch-black sense of humor.
But today, everything changed. I was working at the Denny's but some nutjob came crashing his car into the Denny's and having everyfuckingbody in the building either injured, traumatized, or just plain scared. But the real scares came out when I saw they had clown masks on. I was both confused and scared all at once. Why were they here? Isn't my crazy father dead? But then again, there was no time for questions, I ducked down behind the counter and made my way to the exit. Just as I was about to have the taste of freedom, one of their thugs was a bit too smart to just attack from the resturant entrance, and decided to ram me down on the ground.
"Let me go you crazy fuck!" I shouted. Do you know who you are dealing with?"
"Of course." the thug replied as he forced me up off the ground with brute force. "That's what we are here for!" he said before he blindfolded me. The next things I heard were the sound of gunshots, people wailing in despair, glass shattering, the slamming of a car door, the noise of the engine on a highway, the sudden jerk of car brakes, the rattling of heavy chains being coupled to my feed and hands, the sound of large medal doors opening and closing. But then came that sound. A maniacal laughter I thought ceased to exist. A laugh I only thought was legend. I could smell noxious fumes that made my nose cringe as my feet slid on the concrete and my body being pulled by large-muscled thugs. Before I knew it, I was thrown down on the floor. I felt the taste of copper in my mouth. Did one of my teeth break? Goddam those sons of bitches! I hadn't even tried to assault them, never even thought of doing it. My head groaned with pain as I was grabbed by the hair and pulled up before a noise shouted out, "That's enough." That voice. It was the same one that laughed. I wanted to deny it as much as possible. There was no way in hell that he was still alive. But if the Joker could pull the impossible, then what could I say? I was even more speechless when I heard the voice say again, "I know I like a good joke or two, but I wouldn't want junior here to have a bad experience with his…papa." My eyes went wider then they ever had. When they pulled the blindfold off my eyes, my mouth dropped. It was him. The clown prince of crime himself, and even more fascinating, he sprung Harley out of Arkham. Does that freak know when to quit? My slut for a mother giggled and said, "Hey sweetie? Have a good day at school?" They both laughed after that. I swear if they didn't shut up now, I would have that laugh stuck in my head. But it wasn't just the laugh, my psychotic father's skin was white as a ghost, and his eyes, Jesus fucking Christ his eyes! I know many people have said many things about his appearance, but telling is one thing and experiencing it is another. And the environment you ask? I've always hated amusement parks even as a kid, thought they were scarier than a haunted house attraction, even if the amusement part IS a haunted house attraction. Then the Joker said to me, "Come come know sonny, don't be shy. Tell us what you want to say."
"My father is dead!" I shouted out loud. "And I'm not your sonny!" The joker seemed to be offended by it. I knew I shouldn't have said that as soon as I heard one of the thugs growl low at me. But clown daddy dearest made a sign not to hurt me. I wanted to deny that it was my father. I really did. I saw his dead body in the articles! So how can this possibly be? I was ready for whatever the J had to throw at me.
"You're right." he said. "You're father is dead." I opened my eyes in confusion. What the fuck did he mean? Was he playing games with me? "What're you trying to say you fucktard."
"Dear me, when did my little boy learn such offensive language?" he said to Harley as he gave that ghastly smile of his to her and me. "Well, besides that, here's the point. I'm just a clone of your real daddy. The real Joker died of the titan formula as you would expect. But before he died, he left four people including me with his DNA which eventually infected all of us," he turned his head towards me. "until we literally became the Joker." I tried to make sense of the situation. "So…the Joker cloned you?"
"In a sense yes." he said while he waved his cane around and fiddled with his Jacket. I decided to just cut to the chase. "What is it you want from me?" He smiled yet again, I swear if he doesn't stop that!
"We are giving you a chance." he replied.
"A chance for what?"
"To be a part of the family?" he said as me smiled a third fucking time. I was in disbelief. I shook my head in denial as much as I could. "No! No! Nu-uh! No way in fucking hell am I going to join you sick bastard!" I probably shouldn't have said that when I saw his eye begin to twitch. He pulled out his gun and without hesitation pointed to my head. I closed my eyes as they filled up with tears. I haven't even got laid yet! But then again, I would rather die and die a virgin rather than stick up to my daddy's sick plans. Then he began to speak, "I could say that I am disappointed to have you for a son, but I won't." he said. I was ready for this to all end. "I could just kill you right now but I won't." he said. He pulled the gun away. I couldn't comprehend what just happened. After what I called him, he spares me? What does he think he is, a saint all of a sudden? He really is retarded! He continued and said, "The thing that I find with you is, you're no joke to me. You're just…too valuable for me and my Harley to lose." Harley shook her head, "You got that right puddin'." She said.
"But you're my son right?" the joker said as he looked at his gun and pulled the trigger, only for a small flag to pop up from it that said, "Bang!"
"You've got to be fucking joking." I mumbled to myself when the joker interrupted. "You see, if you're my son, and I'm your father, then I am the one who supposedly…guides you in life. The one who gives you….experience." his smile widened. "The one who puts you through what I have been through." he began to laugh. This could not be happening. He got up from his seat and said, "Boys take him to the vat." I started to panic. I did not know what the Joker when through, but I never ever wanted to experience what he went through. I mean, just the thought of it drives me….insane. Oh my god. Was that what he is going to do to me? I struggled the best I could but the thugs were just simply too strong. "I see you're putting two and two together sonny boy!" he yelled out as he laughed. Before I knew it, I was being hung by two thugs over an open vat. I looked down and below it was some sort of white material. Was… was this what made the Joker insane. "No. No no! Nononono!" I kept screaming this out loud over and over again. But the Joker and his prostitute just kept smiling. Then the joker came up close to me and put his fingers on my chin. "By the way son, that statement you said earlier, about me joking?" he said as my eyes were bloodshot and my lungs were pumping air through my body faster than they ever could. "Looks like the joke's on you." he smiled as he gave the signal. I screamed as I was thrown into the vat helplessly. The next things I felt was a smooth slimy substance enclosing my body until the only thing I knew in the entire universe was laughter.