Last Laugh
Jadecoyote
T+ (mild swearing)
(author's note: this is a short fic I did. Just some of the Comedian's thoughts before he died)
The televisions turned low as the president, Richard Nixon gave a speech on the Dooms Day clock. It caused a smile to my lips feeling a touch of irony in it. The world ending very soon, going up like a Chinese firecracker on New Years. Even the amusement held bitter resentment more ashen then the cigar held between my teeth. The lies, the ones we tell ourselves and the ones we speak out loud. I used to know the score, I used to think I was on top of the god damn world. "A life well lived is a life worth living, Eddie" my father used to say. My childhood was not like Leave It To Beaver. My father never took me out fishing or helped me make a model airplane. No, he was a drunken auto mechanic with nothing else better to do then drink and beat my mother. Lamenting on those things always makes my skin crawl with electricity. It wasn't quite chills but something else. I don't really know perhaps it's the proverbial demon trying to come out through my bad thoughts. Spooky? C'mon I don't really believe in that kind of stuff…or maybe a do a bit. I change the channel and leaned back, my dark brown bathrobe snug warmly around my form like a shield. It all had me thinking about life and death. Who would put roses on my grave? Probably those who I used to work with. They were all metaphors for what the city felt they needed. Would Sally put flowers on my grave? Would she let Laurie? I doubt it. Poor Sal saw it as a mistake between them, after what I did. I never claimed to be a nice guy. I have killed men, women, and children and done worst then that. Living out my life in a mist of shadow and gunpowder. I the splash of blood, how it felt against my face. Despite the actions I took and the blurry has of alcohol I did care for her and Laurie, but who cares for me.
No one…
That's the hollow reality I think hard on. I am absolutely helpless like a baby in a crib. God damn it. I am the god damn Comedian. The joke was on me though. Adrian was planning something big and I had helped him. Now I know the true score…the joke was on me. The door is cracked open and I glance silently at my gun neatly placed on top of last months Hustler. When the man steps out of the shadows a smile spread across my lips. The sweet and delicious irony.
"You…I knew the time would come.."