My Smile Will Go On

"It's very kind of you to take an interest in the inmates, Mr. Wayne," said Dr. Joan Leland, head of Arkham Asylum, as she and Bruce Wayne sat in her office. "We really appreciate your incredibly generous donations more than we can ever express."

"Anything I can do to help, Dr. Leland," said Bruce, nodding. "A huge amount of crime in Gotham is down to the agency of these people. If they can be helped, cured, or otherwise occupied, it's as good for Gotham as it is for them."

"And for me," agreed Dr. Leland. "One less headache. Although that new medication we gave the Joker seems to be doing more harm than good."

"Medication?" repeated Bruce.

"Yes, we started him on a course of caffeine, adrenaline, and sugar," replied Dr. Leland. "In the hopes of overloading his already hyperactive system. It's frankly pretty miraculous how much energy he can take, although it does manifest itself abnormally in his behavior."

Bruce stared at her. "I admit, I'm not sure how much more abnormal the Joker's behavior can be."

Dr. Leland sighed, gesturing to her computer screen and bringing up the security cameras for the Rec Room. The Joker was perched on the arm of the sofa, talking a mile a minute at the other inmates, who looked incredibly uncomfortable.

"…I mean, it's weird, right? Right? Seriously, right? I mean, elastic in socks! Has the whole world gone mad? Whatever happened to garters? Garters are amazing! But it's all elastic this, elastic that now! Plastic society, that's what we've got! Speaking of plastic, do you know they make action figures outta us? We get any royalties for that, anyone know? Anyone? Anyone? Bueller? Bueller? Probably not. And why not? I'll tell you why not! Because society is intent on taking away our rights! Our rights to our own images! Madness! People call me crazy, but I ain't making plastic figures outta other people and selling 'em for a profit! Money, that's what everything's about! Whatever happened to good, old-fashioned…what was I talking about? Oh yeah, socks!"

"Mr. J…I think we oughta go let you lie down now…" began Harley Quinn, carefully.

"Nope, nah, no, feel wide awake, Harl!" exclaimed Joker. "Wide, wide awake! Y'know what rhymes with awake? Cake! And boy, I sure could go for some right now! Chocolate cake, or devil's food cake, or…who wants to bake a cake? C'mon, it'll be fun! Roll it, and pat it, and mark it with a B, and put it in the oven for Batsy and me! Who wants to play patty cake with me?" he said, holding up his hands. "Tetchy, I know you like those kiddie games! And by kiddie games, I mean playtime with kids, and I don't mean real playtime, I mean playtime as a euphemism for something else! Harley and me use that euphemism all the time, not that there's anything wrong with it as long as you don't have a kiddie fetish, which I don't, I just like younger women. Not your type of younger women – Harley's over the age of consent in all countries, but I guess you could always move to Holland. I hear they have relaxed ages of consent. Europeans are sick and wrong, no offense…"

"Harley, make him stop!" cried Jervis Tetch.

"I dunno how!" retorted Harley. "It's this stupid medication! I've been begging the doctors to stop giving it to him – it just wires him! He's been up all night making pages and pages of notes for new schemes!"

"Yeah, who wants to hear some?" asked Joker, reaching into his pocket and withdrawing several sheets of paper, written haphazardly. "Exploding Sheep. Guinea Pig Army. Looking forward to that one. Spoon Gun. Egg of Doom. Fridge Pants. Batman's Greatest Boner…wait a minute, did I mean boner?" he asked, puzzled. "Guys, what's a word meaning huge mistake...boner, right? Right, yeah. Batman's Greatest Boner..."

"Ok, I think we've heard enough of that," said Bruce hastily. Dr. Leland turned off the screen as Bruce sat back, thinking.

"I'm wondering, Dr. Leland, if my donations might be better spent on something other than patient treatments," he said at last.

"Security?" said Dr. Leland, hopefully. "We really need security improvements…"

"I think tighter security measures would only be seen as a challenge to them to break them," said Bruce. "But there must be a way to keep them inside. Maybe if they wanted to stay inside, for some reason…"

He trailed off. "They're all very…theatrical, aren't they?" he asked. "What if I gave them the funds to make a movie?"

"A movie?" repeated Dr. Leland, puzzled.

"Yeah," said Bruce, slowly. "Something they could dedicate all their substantial energy to. Something that would take a really long time to make, and be very complicated. A really long movie…"

Bruce thought back to the longest films his dates had ever dragged him to. There had been several. But one in particular stood out in his mind, mostly because his then date had criticized him afterwards for not being in floods of tears, like she was. She had accused him of being insensitive, unlike the guy in the movie, who was clearly every woman's ideal man. Bruce had rather unkindly retorted that he wasn't so sensitive now that he was dead, and they had broken up shortly afterward. Their parting words were a mutual wish that the other share the fate of the man in the movie, which was especially awkward since the Joker killed her about a week later.

"Titanic," he said, firmly. "Let's let them make Titanic."

Dr. Leland stared at him. "How are we gonna…I mean, we can't construct a ship in here…"

"We can hire some special effects guys to take care of that," interrupted Bruce. "You don't even need sets to make movies anymore – it's all on computers. Just give them free reign to rewrite it how they want, cast it how they want, and make it how they want, within reason. It should ideally occupy them for a pretty long time, leaving the city with only the ordinary criminals to deal with, which are bad enough on their own."

Dr. Leland nodded slowly. "I can't ask you to fund an entire movie though, Mr. Wayne…"

"Hey, it's only a couple million," said Bruce, shrugging and standing up. "I'll make that back by next week."

"Well…thank you very much," said Dr. Leland, standing up. "I guess I'd better tell the patients the good news…"

She glanced at the security camera screen, where Joker was now cartwheeling around the Rec Room, loudly singing and occasionally grabbing fellow inmates to dance with: "I love to laugh, ha ha ha ha, loud and long and clear! I love to laugh, ha ha ha ha, it's getting worse every year! The more I laugh, ha ha ha ha, the more I fill with glee! And the more the glee, he he he he, the more I'm a merrier me!"

"…or I might wait a bit," she said, sitting down again.

"At least that's closer to normal, anyway," sighed Bruce.

"I wasn't aware you knew what normal Joker was like, Mr. Wayne," said Dr. Leland, surprised. "I didn't know that you had many dealings with him."

"Er…no, I don't," said Bruce, hastily. "I just…uh…oh wow, is that the time? I have to go," he said, glancing at the clock. "Urgent meeting – I'll call you later to discuss the details of the film, Dr. Leland. Goodbye."

Dr. Leland stared after him in confusion, and then sighed. "The arrogance of the rich and famous, thinking they know everything about everyone. Who does he think he is, Batman?"