Ah, Gotham. The trash bin of the country and the place I like to call home. Not that I don't find myself enjoying my surroundings most of the time, but come on, we can and should do a little better. Muggings and murder seem to be the only thing on the television today, hence the reason I don't watch anymore. The last I heard of any major Gotham news from the TV was that of some Doctor Crane guy, or the Scarecrow, testing his psychology mumbo-jumbo on his patients.

On another note, my name is Rainbow; yea I know, ain't that the stupidest name you ever heard? Just call me Rain, Rain Anderson. My parents weren't the most all together there people if you know what I mean. Although it is more often that not gloomy and rainy here in Gotham, they saw nothing but rainbows in the sky due to a few choice drugs they found themselves taking, hence my name.

Anyways, I find myself walking to my place of refuge, which also happens to be my source of employment. I work for a laundry facility attached to Arkham Asylum, cleaning patients and employees uniforms. The Asylum is where Gotham dumps all of the trash It can't handle through traditional methods. Although I don't agree with the methods used in there, I can't deny the City's need for the establishment. How do I know about the Staff's treatment of the patients? Well lets just say the Patient's uniforms don't come to me soaked in cranberry juice.

"Hey Rain, are ya just getting in for tha' day?" In walked in my fellow employee Paulie, a chubby and delightful old dude who might be too sarcastic for most people, but he meshed perfectly with my own sarcastic soul. "Yea, old man!" I shouted. "We gotta give these inmates clean clothes to wear, its probably one of the only pleasures they get in there."

"I don't get why you care Rain, they're all psychopaths in that place, you gotta stop caring about them being comfortable." Paulie gave me a gruff look as if I should take his advice like it was written in the Bible itself. Rolling my eyes, I went back to work. Even if Paulie didn't think they deserved to be comfortable, they did not deserve to sit in their own filth all day. My bad will unto others only goes so far, including those in Arkham.

Another batch of laundry came down from the chute connecting to the Asylum and I noticed this was a particularly messy load. There were two outfits with the patient numbers 4487 and 4675 that were covered in a mix of what looked like blood and white face paint.

"Hey Paulie, what patients are assigned as 4675 and 4487, look at the care sheet for washing instructions!" I had to yell as he was in the next room full of dryers. If your at all confused, the care sheet is a list of patients and their allergies or aversion to certain trigger scents in the laundry so we can clean them just right.

"Hey Rain, it says here that 4487 belongs to the Joker and 4675 belongs to Doctor Crane." Oh, so the mess belongs to the Clown and the Crow. The Scarecrow is a pretty interesting character based on what Paulie has told me, proclaiming himself the Master of Fear and everything. When I was younger I always loved horror movies and pretty much anything in the genre, I used to be the subject of everyone's ridicule. I loved horror and I also loved making people scream, hence why I worked in a haunted house before I got this cushy job.

All of this considered I am quite the conundrum, I love the way people's fear makes me feel but I also strive to help those around me. Well, oh well haha. Many hours of washing later I finally got all the stains out of the Clown' and the Crow's clothes. It was almost time to leave so I called out to Paulie and told him I was heading home. As I exited the facility I headed towards the sidewalk that would lead me to my ramshackle and might I say overpriced apartment.

The streets were pretty deserted at this time of the night and I usually feel pretty safe making my way through the alley ways that made my trip faster. I'm not what you would call a conventional beauty. I'm pretty thick in the hips and breast department, I guess you could say I was a plus sized gal. Not that I was out of shape or anything I'm just not what most people called hot. I have been told I have a pretty face, with full lips and hazel cat like eyes that matched well with my dark brown hair. Because of this I wasn't that scared of being attacked by a predator, and because of my baggy sweat suit and unkempt hair I wasn't afraid of a mugger stopping me for my money. Overall you could say I blend in with the cretins on the streets of Gotham.

I veered into the last alley that would take me to my place when I felt a pair of hands on my neck push me into the bricks. Well shit...I guess my whole cretin thing didn't work out. When I looked up into my attackers face I was met with the sight of a man with the face of a clown. He was licking his lips and assessing me form head to toe. He looked like he might be attractive under all that smudged paint but I couldn't quite be sure, I can tell you this much the paint gave the effect I think he intended. It was pretty terrifying.

He smelled like gas and gun powder, though his grip on my neck was pretty tight I didn't mind the feeling of his trench coat swishing against my shins, damn he was tall. Well crap, I guess I was going to die tonight. All of this was going through my mind when I heard him say in a gravelly voice, "Look. At. Me." Wow, that was a deep voice. For a guy, who I have a strong suspicion is the Joker, that was an awfully terrifying and dark voice. Isn't he supposed to be all laughs. Well, I didn't want to piss this guy off so I looked at him.

Damn, his eyes were like an eagle's, quick and darting all over my face. "Well, well, well. I didn't realize we had a chickie here. You know Doll you would look a lot prettier if you put on a little makeup and brushed your hair."

Well geeze, I'm not going to let this guy insult me while I wait for him to kill me. "Just get it over with and kill me, I'd rather not have image issues right before I die." At this he let out a great whoop of a laugh and his voice turned into the high pitched, yet none the less terrifying soprano Paulie had told me about. "HAHAHAHA HEE HAA, well we got a sarcastic little lady here. Someone like you shouldn't be having body issues." As he said this I felt his other hand squeeze my but a little painfully. "Looks to my like you got all the right stuff in all the right pa-lacesss". Either he's just making fun of me or trying to make me feel better before I die.

"Alright buddy, either do it or go stuff a jack-in-the box up you ass!" Probably not the smartest thing I've ever done but it made me feel better in my little evil heart. He stopped laughing, "Whats your name?" he said. Unfortunately he grabbed my ID from the Washers on my shirt and he saw my full name. He let go of my throat and bent over himself laughing maniacally. "Rainbow, your name is..hahahaaa...Rainbow! For god sakes was your Mother on Drugs! I like it, I like it, I LIKE IT!" Oh dear nothing like a psycho yucking it up over your god given name. Might as well be honest, "Actually, yes she was on drugs." That shut him up momentarily, he shoved me against the wall again and started to speak. "Well then Rainbow (licking his lips again) I like you, and I never intended on killing you. You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time you see, I escaped the Asylum earlier tonight after a scrap with the Scare-Bear and I need to send a message to the Bat before I go back. You see, I needed to get out tonight to seal a, uh, very important deal with a certain Riddle man. This deal will benefit me very soon in the future and I need to get back to the Asylum right quick. I trust you Rainbow, I uh, don't think you will betray my trust in telling you these things. I see it in your eyes, the hype that this gives you, talking to me."

Shit, shit, shit, this guy was a grade A psycho. As he was giving me this long speech, I felt him cutting into the side of my neck with a small blade I didn't notice him take out. He started to use my blood to write a few hahas on the brick wall behind us and I gave him a questioning, pained look. "Its to leave a trail for him you see, kind of like a breadcrumb, 'cause lets face it my little Bat needs a trail. It gives him a purpose. Well Rainbow, I will see you soon. Have fun cleaning my dirty laundry!" He yelled this at me while he ran down the alley and disappeared into the darkness. I yelled at him that the name was Rain but I doubt he heard me, the Fucker was pretty fast.

I took out my cell to call the cops when I started to wonder how he knew where I worked when I realized he took my ID. Crap, that was going to be a major pain in my ass to replace. Oh well. I dialed the number into my phone and got ready to relate this crazy story, no pun intended. "Hello, this is the GCPD, how can assist you". I replied "Well ma'am I think I just had a run in with the Joker".