Keeping in comic spirit. I will not be referring to the Joker by any name other than Joker. I know it will be confusing in the first few chapters, because i'll only be calling him Joker or Him, his or he and the skinny boy. But trust me, you'll know when he's in the picture and its not someone else. If it gets to confusing or annoying, i'll go back and rewrite his scenes with the name Jack instead. Thanks for stopping by, and review at the end!.
"Sometimes I remember it one way, sometimes another... if I'm going to have a past, I prefer it to be multiple choice!" - The Joker, in the The killing Joke.
Never Better
Written By: Vago.
You can raise a child in the most respectable city, town, home, or neighborhood. Doesn't mean they will still turn out right. It does not mean that a human being will grow into a kind, respectable person that society values. Some say that it doesn't matter where your from, as long as you got heart. As long as you got integrity. Honor, or some bullshit like that.
Truth be told. It doesn't matter where your raised,or who raises you. It's what you see; What you observe around you, and how you interpret it. Your free to disagree of course. This is just an opinion. So don't tie your panties in a knot. I've seen lovely, wonderful men rise to power after being raised in crime ridden areas, where things like drugs and murder are common. These men turn out fine, despite their origin.
Rich boys too. But they are boring. Who the hell wants to hear about the pure of heart?. Who wants to toot their horn?. Lets take a look at a man, this one individual who is hard to forget. But before we do. we have to start, at where else?...the beginning.
Prologue
He did not have everything. He did have enough mind you. His father saw to that, his mother was always around. She never went any where. She was always with him. Always doing her best to; nurture him, love him, give him the attention that a little boy needed and deserved. Because of this, one could call this child a "mama's boy". That's what a few of the older kids in the neighborhood chanted; when he would walk up the stoop to his residence.
He had lots of friends despite being called a mama's boy. He had a lot of personality for one so young, that is what his teachers at school would say. He was a chatty boy, loved to talk-as well as show off. He loved attention, and would do anything to get it; and he usually succeeded. He was a real go getter, said his teachers and neighbors. He could do great things.
"Lots'a things." He would repeat to himself when he was alone. If he did not do this, those voices would just echo in his head until it ached. At eight years old, His light hair was short and neat, he was a skinny boy whose clothes usually hung off his body. Not that he starved at home, he just had a fast metabolism. He was very adorable, huggable even.. he was t he apple of his mothers eye. He was well loved at home.
Still, at eight. This boy was perceptive on how the world worked, how its inhabitants lived and acted. It bored him actually. He wanted things to be a little more...fun.
"Honey, you need to do your homework. You don't want to fall behind do you?." his mother would say as he watched Jonesy the Clown on television. He would be sitting cross legged in front of the boob tube for the full hour that Jonesy was on. And he did not appreciate being pulled away from his show.
"When Jonesy is over, k?" he would reply in a mousy voice. He had a girlie tone for a little boy, which is common at that age. But his voice earned him the name "Squeak"at school.
"No. Not after that clown is over, I said now. You know your father doesn't like you up late" his mom walked over and switched the nob on the t.v. Jonesy's face was on the screen and smiling, when it went to black. Making him frown in disdain.
"I told you when it was over." he huffed. His mother shook her head.
"And I told you,that your father doesn't want you up late. Now go to your room and do your spelling." she ordered. And pointed in the direction of his room. He got up and stomped his feet all the way there. He hated spelling. He had trouble remembering how to spell the words, and his teacher picked really hard ones too. His teachers name was Ms. Abbles. She was really nice, but strict. Whenever he came to her with questions she would tell him that these words would make him smarter.
He did not want to become smarter, or do great things. He just wanted to have fun. Was that so much for an eight year old boy to ask?. Just a little fun?.
The door to his room was left open during the day. So he had no privacy. It was his dad's rule. A stupid one in his opinion. Still, he had to do what his dad told him too do. Or else he would be yelled at about breaking another rule. He did not like getting yelled at. It made him mad, being yelled at made him cry-he did not like crying either. Made his eyes hurt.
The skinny boy went over to his closet and took out a school bag, much to heavy to carry now because of his school work. He managed to take it to and from school every day; because of his friend, Cody . Cody was a tall boy of nine, who was quite chubby around the middle. Cody was rude to the teachers and everyone else in the neighborhood, but was nice to Him because of their love of Jonesy the Clown.
Cody carried the school bag for him in exchange for watching the new episodes of Jonesy's show on Saturdays at His house. Cody was not allowed to watch the show at all, his sister Betty was afraid of clowns and so Cody's mother had forbidden to have the program play while Betty was home.
Stupid Betty. She was such a scaredy cat. Jonesy wasn't scary, he was funny!. What a chicken!.
He was pretty smart too. His mother always said so. So his mama was not surprised that he had finished his homework early. It only took half an hour. He was sure that he had spelled the words right this time, he had memorized this weeks list. They were hard, but he had memorized them. He had to do a puzzle for this weeks assignment.
Those were kind of fun. He'd turn it in tomorrow. If he got a few wrong, then oh well.
The skinny boy put his school work away and went back to the living room. He was about to turn on the T.V in hopes that another episode of his show was about to air. Only to be Stopped by a small feminine hand. He knew that it was his mother's, since it was her left hand grabbing his. Her shiny gold wedding band was on her ring finger.
"I told you, no staying up late for TV. Go to your room and go to sleep. Your papa is going to be home soon, you know how he gets." she stated calmly. Grabbing him by his shoulders and leading him back towards his room. His mother closed the door behind him, meaning that it was bed time.
"I don't want to go to sleep." he whispered after his mother had gone. "I want to watch TV" he moped, defeated. He got dressed for bed, putting on a pair of light blue bottoms, and a bright green flannel; the skinny boy climbed into bed. Messing up the neatly made covers and pillows, he slipped underneath the heavy blanket and shut his eyes.
Though he did not go off to dream land right away. He was forcing his eyelids shut, he would do this ritualistically every night at eight thirty pm; till he passed out and woke up the next morning to catch the school bus. He would usually keep this up for fifteen minutes, except for the nights when his father came home angry.
He knew that his father was angry from the way the entry door opened and shut. On a good day, his father let the entry door close with a short, soft bang. On bad day, it would close with a loud one, reminiscent of a car hitting a tree. Tonight was a bad day.
Muffled voices made their way into his ears now, he knew his mother was trying to calm his papa down. Papa was not angry at mama, this much he knew; because he could not understand what they were talking about. Whatever it was that was going on, it was keeping him from going to sleep. There was only one way to block them out.
"Why so serious?" he asked quietly "Why so serious?. Why so serious?" he chanted, and would keep reciting this till he was fast asleep. Jonesy always said that on the show, it was his catchphrase. Jonesy would say that to a person after he had told a joke. It was a really funny line, and it helped him clear his mind.
-
By morning, his father was long gone. Off to work again. He didn't care, he needed to get to school. His mother had packed him a lunch in a brown paper bag and sent him on his way out the door, which was fine by him, but he was not going to eat what was in his lunch bag. He liked the school food better. He had decided that he was going to give it to Cody. Unlike him, Cody hated hot lunch and preferred cold lunch.
The skinny boy met with Cody outside his front door, sitting on the stoop. A chubby little girl was with him, that was Betty. She very much took after her brother, except her hair was long and brown compared to Cody's short and blond. He knew that Cody and Betty were 'Half' brother and sister, that Betty had a different mom from a different country. So she had light tan skin, unlike Cody who was very pale.
"I don't want it, do you?" He asked Cody while holding up the brown paper bag. Cody nodded enthusiastically, and reached out and grabbed it from him. His chubby fingers eagerly opened the bag to see what was inside.
"Peanut butter, but no jelly. And juice...yay!" Cody cheered. Cody hated Jelly, especially strawberry. Cody then lugged His backpack over his shoulder, as was custom every morning. He walked behind Cody who led the way to the school bus. He was expressionless as he journeyed with his friend, he was not in a very festive mood at the moment, so he was not going to try and bring attention to himself right now.
As his father's late night tantrum had uspet him greatly. With only half a block to go to the bus stop. He noticed that Betty was walking unusually close to him. He looked over at her and arched his eyebrows.
"What? What do you want?" he asked her, his tone was calm and straightforward. Betty did not react, she kept to her pace and followed her brother. He shrugged his shoulders, he did not like it when his questions went unanswered.
On the school bus, Betty was the one sitting next to him. Cody was in the back eating his peanut butter sandwich. He thought that that was stupid, why eat the sandwich so early? Cody would have to eat hot lunch in the end. He shook his head. He noticed Betty nodding.
"He eats to much. My mom said that's no good" she looked down, she was turning pink. He shrugged.
"Your mom ain't his mom, she shouldn't say that." he retorted, Betty sunk in her seat, her shoulders slumped.
"I know...not everyone can have the same mama and papa like you." Betty looked like she was about to cry. He knew that it was his fault, everyone called Betty's mom a "Whore" he didn't know what that was. Betty seemed to, even though she was only seven. Most boys his age would have quickly apologized and said that they were sorry. Not him. He didn't feel like it was necessary.
"Smile." he chimed, Betty through him a sideways glance. "Smile" He repeated, while flashing a big toothy grin. This confused her, she was on the verge of tears and here he was telling her to smile, like He had said nothing wrong.
"I don't want to." Betty Challenged him, in the typical way a seven year old would challenge someone in his or her age group. He did not back down.
"I told you to smile, and you should." He straightened himself in his seat, and reached for her face. His small hands grabbed the side of her face, he heard her yelp, but it did not stop him. He pinched her cheeks and forcefully stretched her lips to for a smile. "See? Much better right?".
Betty glared and moved her hands up and smacked him away. She did not hurt him, not one bit. In fact, her slapping him made him giggle. Betty brought her tiny hands up to her face where he had pinched her, she felt a tiny amount of pain.
"Your mean!" Betty yelled "MEAN!!" she repeated. And that made him laugh, very loudly, many of kids riding the school bus with them turned to stare. Cody was one of them. Cody soon was back to eating his sandwich and juice, as Cody saw nothing wrong. Betty was bright in the face from embarrassment, while He was still laughing his head off.
"It's not that funny!" Betty spoke up.
"Yes it is!" He disagreed. "Its' very funny". Betty fumed.
"I don't like you! I don't like you one bit! Your not nice at all!" she screeched, while still covering her face. He shrugged.
"I don't care. I thought it was funny, go ahead and be that way." he concluded. Choosing not to speak to Betty the rest of the way to school. Once the bus stopped. Betty was the first one off, from his group, he and Cody were last. Cody was looking at him strangely.
"Why do you laugh like that?" said Cody.
"Like what?" was there something wrong with the way He laughed? His mother always said that he had a cute laugh.
"You laugh really scary." Cody cringed. He shook his head, disagreeing with his friend.
"I don't think it's scary...I know a lot of people like it." He stopped and looked around, he noticed Betty heading into the school. He knew Betty liked his laugh, she just had a problem laughing with him. He'd help her understand his joke's.
...