A/N: This series is intended to be a series of one-shots from the perspective of various departed Batman characters. They will reflect on their actions during the Nolanverse films and, if applicable, reflect on what has happened in the films since they died. I though this idea seemed really original and would provide a unique perspective on many of our favorite dearly departed characters. Please enjoy, and do review!

Chapter One: The Joker

I spent the last five years of my life in the loony bin...that is, Elizabeth Arkham Asylum for the Criminally Insane. And let me just say…it sure was loony. The whole place was full of crazies, guys in white coats trying to shove pills down your throat twenty-four hours a day. It just wasn't my style. If I hadn't been so doped up on antipsychotics and the Antidepressant of the Week, I would have been working an escape plan. In between doses of my meds, I missed things…my tailor, for one thing, and a good filet mignon now and again. But most of all, I missed my knives…all 38 of them. They had names, you know. Each one had a special weight and feel in the palm of your hand. They're probably wasting away in some ridiculous GPD evidence locker now…rusting…suffering…

I would have gotten out someday if it weren't for the riot, because sometimes, you see, antipsychotics don't work the way they're supposed to. I didn't do anything. I just sat in my cell like a damn brick, but some of the other prisoners…well, they got a little angry one day. They filleted one of the guards and took another hostage. My whole floor got put on lockdown, and hey, because it was Gotham, the "insurrection" lasted for ten days. There was a little storage closet at the end of the hall with some moldy biscuits in it, and that's what we ate. Everybody drank out of the sinks. There was only one problem….no meds. And when crazies don't have meds…they go through withdrawal. Chills, hallucinations, and worst of all, psychotic breaks! Great plan, right? Give a bunch of criminals mind-altering drugs that make 'em feel even worse. A couple years before I came to town, some guy actually tried to give 'em to everyone with the Narrows sewer systems, and he got arrested! What a world!

So, around day six, I start to feel a little funny, right? The other inmates say it's 'cause my meds are running out, but I just can't kick the feeling. I go back in my cell and things start going real bad. …Now, I love chaos, but the things I saw…they'll get to a guy. I see a piece of broken glass on the floor…and hey, I wasn't thinking too straight at the time, but I decide that my scars need a little "touch up." So I stick the blade in my mouth and pull all the way up to one ear. My cellmate starts yelling and screaming and runs out of the room…but I just cut up to my ear on the other side. And then, because I felt like it, I carved a word into my arm. "Anarchy," it said.

The whole thing seemed pretty funny at the time, so I started laughing. It was kind of garbled, 'cause, hey, there was a lot of blood…but I laughed and laughed. And then…I went to sleep.

At the time, it seemed like a great thing to do, like I said, but now I think it's a crying shame that I died back then. Things got pretty, well, crazy, in Gotham for a while after I died. Oh, how I wanted back in the game! That Bane, that masked man, how he terrorized the Batman! I envied him. Like never before, I yearned to return to the world. He did what I had never done…he broke the Bat and spirited him away. Then, he corrupted Gotham, destroyed their spirit bit by bit as he planned to destroy him. He told them that they could be saved, but I could see the truth from this place. I exulted with him. It was beautiful…absolutely beautiful. The things I could have done in a Gotham like that! The chaos I could have created…

And that's not all. I finally saw through the mask. I finally saw who the Batman was, after all this time. And that coward, who would rather let innocent civilians die than reveal his face to the world…was none other than billionaire Bruce Wayne! I was stunned! …I had had my suspicions, sure, but had never seriously believed that Wayne could really be the man in the suit. Like I said, this is one crazy world.

All good things must come to an end, as they say…although I never expected the Batman to make it out of that Pit of Bane's. If only I had been there! The Bane, well…he needed me. In his final hour, look at him! Killed by a cat-burglar on a motorcycle, and that mad girlfriend of Wayne's taking credit for all of his achievements? No. If I had lived, things would have been different. Things would have been…better. Now, I never thought Gotham deserved to get blown to smithereens, but if that's the price for true anarchy…then I would have been all in. I would never have left Gotham alone in its time of need. I would have helped it through…to its chaotic, particle-smashing, anarchic end.

I have no place in Gotham now. …I can never go back there. But once in a while a light blows out in the Narrows, or in the Arkham Asylum basement, and it wasn't quite ready to die yet…and that's because of me. Sometimes a druggie in the slums under the monorails takes a real bad trip and wakes up screaming…'cause of me. And sometimes the cops at the Major Crime Unit hear a very special laughter echoing through the halls of their unit…the same unit that had to get renovated after a bomb blew it half to Kingdom Come. That's my existence now. But it has to be enough. Until I can figure out a way to screw with where I am now…messing with Gotham is all I have to fill the time.

A/N: I encourage you to review this story, including suggestions for other characters I could write for if you have any. Reviews are the stuff of life; they inspire me and encourage me to keep on writing. Let me know what you think, okay?