The Joker gasped, every feature on his face expressing pure and utter shock. "Well, that was disappointing," He mumbled, wandering away from the window. He was ducked behind a shrub, ready to make like a banana and split, when he heard footsteps. Oh, great. Now I'll be here all night, the Joker thought miserably. Then a sly smile spread across his makeup-smeared cheeks. Would it really be that fun to wait until our next encounter to expose Batman as Bruce? Maybe it would be even better to catch him off guard...
So the Joker discreetly inched his way along the side of the house until he reached a side door, leading into the kitchen. He took a quick peak in the window to make sure nobody was in the room. When he saw that the coast was clear, he tried to doorknob. Of course, he muttered, rolling his eyes as he heard the stubborn click of the lock when he turned the knob. Worried that someone would walk into the room at any moment, the Joker fumbled around in his pockets for his skeleton key. When he couldn't find it, he figured he must have lent it to Harley and reached for his Jr. Detective lock picking kit he'd gotten at Toys R Us.
In about five minutes, the Joker was inching his way along the wall, careful not to be seen. If he was, it wouldn't be a big deal; he had a gun in his back pocket. But he didn't want to worry Bruce; not yet, at least. He wanted to catch Bruce completely off guard.
Just then, he heard about four different voices near the front door. Slowly, the Joker inched his way into the foyer. The front door was wide open, and a handful of butlers were leaning over the stoop trying to stomp out the fire that was burning a pile of foul smelling gunk. Burning dog shit, the Joker snickered to himself. The spoiled brats that live in the neighborhood must've put it there, he reasoned. Quickly, he tiptoed across the room and hurried up the large flight of stairs and out of earshot of the butlers. He took in huge gasps of air, finally able to breath without worrying about being heard.
Suddenly, he heard something. It was strange. It was frightening. If was off-key.
"…I got a pocket, got a pocketful of sunshine, I got a love and I know it's all mine…." Came from down the hall in a loud, obnoxious male voice.
"Okay, so obviously he likes to sing in the shower." The Joker rolled his eyes. "Loser." Quickly but quietly, the Joker walked over to the door that the obnoxious singing was coming from. Opening the door a crack, he peeked into the bathroom. Steam escaped as he opened the door, and as he peeked inside he saw that the bathroom had white tiled walls and was brightly lit. Bruce had thrown his black tee shirt and jeans on the ground, and next to them lied his briefs. The Joker had to will himself to push away the feeling the briefs gave him. I'm not gay, he told himself. I am not gay.
Suddenly the singing stopped. Bruce shut off the water abruptly, and the Joker's heartbeat quickened at the realization that Bruce had heard him. Crap! He whispered, and sprinted to the nearest door, opening it a crack and sliding inside. He took a couple of deep breaths before turning around and feeling the walls for a closet. As soon as he found one, he slipped inside.
He'd been there for less than thirty seconds when he saw the lights turn on through the crack in the closet door. He heard footsteps coming toward him, and pushed himself to the corner of the closet behind a brown fur coat. Don't move a muscle, he told himself.