Title: Interview With Madness

Fiction Rating: T (language, some violence, mystery, and angst)

Disclaimer: I do not own Batman, or any of the characters from that show or the comics that DC does. Batman is orginally created by Bob Kane.

Author's Note: This story is based on the (2004) Kids WB series, The Batman. This is also about a reporter (I made up) who interviews with certain Arkham Asylum patients, and even meets the Dark Knight himself. To me, this chapter seemed a little boring, but things do get more interesting as the chapters go on. Well, I hope you enjoy, and please read and review! I've been wanting to do a story like this for a long time, so reviews are greatly appreciated.

Also, the interviews are based on information I read/found in The Batman Strikes comics, the wikipedia website, The Batman tv show, and -- well, interpretations of how I think a character will act or how he/she will respond to questions.


Chapter One: Joker

Most tales you hear start off lightly; telling you about the hero and his little problem, and what he wants to do to make it better. You happily read the adventure, because you want to know what's going to happen to the hero -- right? You want to hear how his tale is going to end -- how he's going to win the heart of a seemingly beautiful girl, and defeat the lame villain. Is that what you're looking for here? Is it? Well...you're reading the wrong story kids, because that's not MY story.

I'm no hero -- really. How can I be, I'm just...me. I never done anything that's worth mentioning, all except for the stories I do. Although...I think I, how the people say, 'stretch the truth' from time to time. I can't help it. People want to look at something that's worth reading, you know. Who wants to read a boring story? No one, that's who.

Just so you know, if you think a story about a twenty-nine year old journalist interviewing insane criminals, is interesting, then please, keep reading. Keep...reading...


Roxanne Nevers briskly entered the doors of Arkham Asylum; striding down the halls with a small briefcase intact. She knew exactly where to go, after all, she's been here many times for her stories and such. Stories about the fallen villains of insanity being brought here, but for her, it is so difficult to get a word out of them. Every time she would try for an interview, the doctors would usually turn her down. "They're mentally ill, Ms. Nevers," the doctors would say to her, "Therefore, they have many different perspectives of the situation, and more than half of what they say is false." "You wouldn't want to print a false story, would you, Ms. Nevers?..." The thoughts of the doctors words went through Roxanne's head, and once, she actually stopped to think about this. More than half her life thus far has been spent on making stories, from the truth to what could partially be true. Unfortunately, she wasn't the type to usually care if a story was true or not. If her editors thought it was exceptional, than it's fine with her. Roxanne didn't care if the public was to criticize. "They don't write a paper," she had told herself once.

One day, Roxanne couldn't believe her ears when she heard that she was about to get a big break in her career. "If you do this, Roxanne," a friendly coworker had once told her, "This could get you promoted to editor in chief!" "After all..." She thought slyly, smirking slightly, "That bastard is finally retiring..."

Her big break, this is it. "You want me to interview those whack-jobs at Arkham?" Roxanne asked, not sounding happy about this.

Her editor in chief, Robert Vaan, nodded while hands were folded neatly on his desk. "Yes, Nevers, is there a problem with that?" He wondered, his voice rising with slight frustration.

Roxanne put her hands on her hips and swayed to the side slowly. "It's just, why me? Why am I doing this?"

"Because you're one of the toughest journalists I know," Robert answered proudly, leaning back in his chair and putting his feet up on the desk now. "If you do this, it'll be the biggest story to hit the papers since the discovery of that bat freak."

"Batman..." Roxanne mumbled under her breath, but then she cleared her throat as her boss raised an eyebrow. She sighed and crossed her arms. "This isn't going to be easy, you know? I hear rumors that those loons do not liked to be interviewed by us. Those -- freaks, they-they spit on our shoes just by the sight of us. That's how much the insane hate reporters."

Robert chuckled lightly. "But you're a journalist," he reminded her. "And this isn't your average report. You're going to interview the infamous asylum patients. I'll give you a list of who you'll be recording the words of. I already gave word to the doctors there about your appointments..."

Roxanne suddenly became more intent on the conversation. "Appointments?"

Again, Robert nodded, "Yes, I've already made a schedule of the days you'll be going up there. The times are also on the list I'm about to give you..."

Roxanne rolled her eyes and moved closer to the desk. "Can I have that list now, please?" She asked impatiently, and tired of him mentioning it. Robert frowned at her, but went into his desk and took out a small piece of paper. Looking it over carefully to make sure everything was correct, he then handed it to Roxanne, who snatched it rudely from his hands.

As the woman began to walk out of her boss's office, she heard Robert grumble quietly, "Maybe those interviews will change that attitude of yours..."

Of course...that was then...and this is now. As she approached the cell she was appointed to visit, she withdrew the list Robert had given her, and made sure this was the right number. "223..." she muttered, and sure enough, as Roxanne examined the heavy, metal door, there were small brass numbers of 223. Upon taking a step back from the door, she took quick glances at the two guards who happened to be standing on either side of it. Roxanne sighed, she knew why these guards were here. In a way, she felt a bit more relieved to have them. She knew...why. After all, this insane criminal is reported (also by herself truly) to be the worst of all the bad lot in Gotham City! "Joker..." she whispered to herself, wanting to know what it felt like to say his name.

Just as she was about to enter, one guard stopped her. "Be careful in there, Ms. Nevers," he warned her. "We may be watching your back from out here, but who knows what that clown can do. He is very unpredictable at times."

Roxanne took a moment to take it all in. "I know," she replied, and opened the heavy door slowly...and entered.

As Joker felt the presence of someone enter his room, a most menacing smile appeared on his chalk-white face. Even though he never showed it, but he hated this -- yes, he hated this dearly. If he could, he would untangle himself from the straight jacket, and use it to strangle that annoying journalist woman. Yes...that's what he wanted to do...but couldn't. So, the clown prince just remained seated on a wooden chair that was provided for him, just until the interview was over. When the woman journalist sat down in her own seat across from Joker, the clown couldn't help but examine her from head to toe. To him, she was somewhat tall and rather slender. She was pretty fair in her looks, and the way her short blonde hair flipped to the side; to cover her left eye, the journalist appeared to be mysterious in some ways. Although, when Joker peered into her eyes, a disgusted look came to him. "Brown eyes -- yuck!" Was the first, insulting sentence that came out of Joker's mouth.

The journalist, Roxanne, set her briefcase down neatly beside her. Taking out a notepad and a pen from her black suit pocket, she jotted down her first few notes about the interview. "Thank you for the rather insulting comment," she exclaimed dully, trying to act as if the insult didn't bother her. Deep inside though, it did, but Roxanne was very careful not to show it.

Joker squirmed around in his chair and shrugged his shoulders. "I don't like you, ya know."

Without looking up from her notepad, Roxanne replied back, "So I've heard."

"Hmph." Joker leaned forward a bit to see what his interviewer was jotting down. "What are you writing anyways?"

"What you're doing right now, and what you already said to me just recently," Roxanne answered quickly. What the woman didn't mention to her study, was the fact that she was writing about him; his appearance. This 'Clown Prince of Crime' or so he has been called -- this Joker, with a face flushed as you would see a vampire's. Hair so wild and green, you would think he was Tarzan himself! Hasn't he ever thought of trimming those green dreadlocks for hair? His eyes are evil and red as the rose, with piercing yellow pupils that feel as if they could burn through your soul. Of course, how can anyone avoid the clown's trademarked, red-lipped grin; with horrible, jagged yellow teeth beneath his lips. It perplexes me why Joker has neglected the care for his dental. The people of Gotham have seen him in many costumes, but as far as I have seen and heard, his favorite choice seems to be that of the purple tailcoat with thick sleeves; leather pants that cling to his skin so greatly, it makes you wonder how his movements are still so agile. The Joker never wears shoes, but as I can recall on my memories, I seem to remember a time where he stole a pair prototype footwear that were supposed to help construction workers with high places. Unfortunately, the idea never came alive as the Gothamites have witnessed what a criminal can do with them.

"Tell me, Joker," Roxanne began, crossing a leg to make herself more comfortable. "Tell me why you do such horrible and psychotic schemes? What gave you the motivation?"

A small smile appeared on the edge of Joker's ruby-red lips. "One question at a time, lady. First off, what's your name?" He grinned as Roxanne lifted her eyes off the notepad and starred back at him.

"I would of thought you known already," said Roxanne coolly. "My name is Roxanne Nevers, the journalist whom is interviewing you."

"Hmm..." Joker's eyes wandered to the ceiling as he thought on this. His red orbs came back to Roxanne's level, and blurted out happily, "I like Roxi better -- yeah. I think I'll call you Miss Roxi."

Roxanne scoffed. She was not amused by this. "I prefer you addressed me as Ms. Nevers, if you don't mind," she declared, becoming irritable now.

"Nah!" Said the Joker, shaking his head, "I like Roxi better! Miss Roxi, Miss Roxi, Miss Roxi!" As he began to cackle loudly, Roxanne had to cover her ears for fear that her eardrums might burst.

"Please, can we get on with the interview?" Roxanne asked, her voice trembling slightly.

Like Roxanne, Joker scoffed and crossed his leg as well, "Okay then...Miss Roxi..." A toothy smile formed on his pale face as Roxanne frowned.

"Fine, call me whatever the hell you want," Roxanne mumbled, but cleared her throat as she questioned, "I'll ask what I have wanted to know before: what gave you the motivation to do the sick crimes that you do?" She held a pen close to her notepad as she was prepared to write as soon as Joker spoke.

Joker had to laugh in his throat about that one. What gave him the motivation for doing this? Well... "Heh, heh, well Miss Roxi, just about everyone in Gotham gives me motivation!" He answered in a giddy attitude. "I guess what really got me going was a show on TV I've watched since I was just a little jester..." Joker paused for a moment, thinking. Roxanne waited quietly for him to continue. The clown rocked in his chair excitedly as he went on, "The Whipperdoodle Pie Man, starring my favorite guy: Simon Syke! Oh, that guy cracks me up on that show! Throwing pies at his costars, planting whoopee cushions for guests at restaurants! I bought everything he sold to the people, from stink bombs to fake barf!" Roxanne was surprised when a few tears rolled down Joker's cheeks, but unfortunately for him, his arms and hands were bounded, and thus, couldn't wipe them away. "Ooohh, ever since I watched that show, I knew I found my life's calling..."

Roxanne tapped her pen on the edge of her notepad. "Simon Syke..." she tried to remember, "Yeah, I remember him. I did a report on him when he was hauled off to prison for larceny--"

"And embezzlement!" Joker added proudly, nodding to her statement. "Yes, I know, isn't he just swell?"

"Um..." Roxanne's eyes wandered when they finally set on her notepad once more, "Yeah, he's swell -- now the next question."

Joker groaned, "Oh, another question now, Miss Roxi?"

Roxanne raised an eyebrow. "I only asked you one question so far," she reminded him. "Okay...of all the gadgets and gasses you created, which one do you consider to be the deadliest?"

Joker smiled devilishly at her, "How about this: I'll break out of here, I'll come find you, tie you to a chair, and you can be my little guinea pig and see for yourself which one gives you more torture..."

Roxanne's eyes widened, and her lips parted ever so slightly. Before answering, she shuddered at the thought; Joker clenched his teeth, knowing she was thinking about his ways of maim. "Um...on second thought, we'll skip this and move on to the next question..."

"Tcht." Joker turned his head away from Roxanne, disappointed that she didn't even consider his offer.

"Your henchmen, Punch and Judy, what's the story on them? Why do they serve you so faithfully?"

"Ooooohh...boy..." Joker rolled his eyes and rocked a couple times in his chair. His antics were beginning to annoy Roxanne. "Even I can't remember where or why they came to me. Just one day -- while I was gassing those cops at the station, there they were; clowns and all!"

As Roxanne quickly wrote down Joker's words, she spoke in a suspicious manner, "I have a feeling you're holding out on this question. You know where they came from, and why their your goons. What's the scoop on them?"

Joker shrugged a shoulder, "What makes you think I'm holding out? I'm telling the truth here."

Roxanne almost wanted to laugh at that one. "Sure you do, like the first time the police arrested you for trying to gas the whole city with your hot air balloon. Your excuse for arrest was that the cops were racists to clowns..."

Joker gently nodded his head, "They are against clowns!"

"That's not the reason why they took you to Arkham..." Roxanne sighed though, "Fine, let's move on to the next question then... Tell me, Joker, have you ever been in love before? Married at all?"

Joker sat back in his chair, as if he was somehow trying to get away from Roxanne. In love? Even if he ever was in love or married, he sure wasn't going to tell some nosy journalist about it. Not no way or no how. "Can I snatch this pen for a moment?..." He asked innocently, and before Roxanne knew it, Joker extended his foot, and with his flexible toes, he gently took the pen she was writing with. "Now, tear a piece of that paper for your Uncle Joker, and put it by my feet..."

Roxanne groaned, but did as he wanted, and she tore a blank page from her notepad and set it close to Joker's feet. Joker squealed with joy as he started to scribble all over the paper, using his toes to hold the pen as if they were hands. When he happened to be done, he once again, extended his leg and gave the pen back to Roxanne. She looked at the scrawled paper with some disgust. "What is this supposed to be?" She asked rudely.

Snickering, Joker replied, "This is what you would like if I wasn't in this jacket right now..."

Roxanne put a hand to her head. She was getting too impatient with the Joker. "He's hardly answered my questions!" She screamed in her mind. "Why does that clown keep doing this? Is he...doing this on purpose?" Then, Roxanne straightened herself out and appeared ready to take down notes again. "I can see that you will not share your 'juicy' information with me, so I'll look and see if there's a question that you will answer..."

"Roxi starts with an 'r'," The Joker stated, deciding to share his thoughts with her. "Did you know your name starts with an 'r', Miss Roxi?..."

Roxanne smirked at him, "Yes, I know how to spell my name."

"Are you sure?" The Joker squeaked, his voice rising to a high-pitch. "You seem the type to forget how to spell..." Giggling, he repeated, "Roxi starts with an 'r'."

"Please, Joker, can we focus on my questions?" She asked exasperatedly. Joker thought for a moment, but then nodded. "Good, let's carry on then. Next question: how do you repeatedly escape from this facility? How do you manage to get out of Arkham Asylum?"

"Ah, such a good question, pretty Miss Roxi, but unlucky for you, I won't tell." As Joker spoke these words, Roxanne took her eyes off the notepad and now looked at him. A gasp wanted to come out from her throat, but she managed to hold it in. "I guess you can say that the flunkies here are just so lazy all the time, and besides that, they're weak. Just how can those guys hold up in a fight? I mean -- really!" He uncrossed his leg and began rocking in his chair again. "What else you got for me?"

"Well..." Roxanne flipped through pages of her notepad until she found what she was looking for. "What do you hate most about the Dark Knight -- Batman, I mean?"

Joker growled. Batman...how he despised and detested that horrible name. He can almost hear it screaming in his head; going in one ear and coming out the other. Batman! Batman! Batman, Batman, Batman, Batman, Batman, BATMAN! "I just plain, flat-out, hate that Batsy!" Joker hollered. "Ugh, what's with that guy anyways? He just can't seem to take a joke! Like that time I hooked up a bomb under his lame car, and the Bat goes and diffuses it! What's up with that?" He flipped his head, tossing some of that dreadlock hair behind him. "What does Batsy have against comedy, anyways? You can take a joke or two, can't you, Miss Roxi?..."

"As long as it doesn't involve anyone getting hurt," Roxanne responded. "Why do you feel hurting people is a joke?"

Joker opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. He actually never thought of that question. Why did he think hurting people was funny? Maybe he does these things because of the hurt he endured as a child...wait -- what? "Um...I think I'll answer the next question," he said softly, somewhat nervously.

"Hmm...very well," Roxanne replied, knowing that somehow the previous question uprooted his inner thoughts.

Suddenly, Roxanne jumped in her chair as one of the guards knocked on the heavy metal door. "Wrap it up, Ms. Nevers," the guard told her, "Your time is almost up."

"What?..." Roxanne glanced at her watch and mumbled under her breath, "Damn it!"

"Awwwwhh..." Joker cooed, pouting his lip out as if he felt sorry for Roxanne. "Does Miss Roxi have to go already? Hee, hee..."

As the guards came in to escort Roxanne out of the cell and out of the asylum complex, she stood up and flipped a page in her notepad. "Joker, I just have one question to ask you; a question that I know everyone in Gotham would want to read about..." Joker eyed the journalist oddly. "Who are you? What is your real name?..."

Joker breathed in and out heavily, thinking hard about the question. To be honest, even though he would never say, but he's not quite sure who he is anymore. Just what was his name back then? Did he even have a name? He must of...but Joker can't recall on it. "Now Miss Roxi..." The Joker spoke in a sarcastic way, "The best part about me is that I like to think my life has multiple choices. Meaning, I can be whoever I want, whenever I want. Now and forever, I'm Joker..." He leaned in towards Roxanne's direction to say quietly, "That is my real name..."

Roxanne let out a soft sigh, and scribbled something quickly in her notepad. "Fine then, have it your way," she grumbled, taking up her sleek briefcase, she walked out the metal door one of the guards opened for her. Just after she exited Joker's room, the guards came out after, shutting the door behind them and securing it once more.

"Bye-bye, Roxi!" Joker yelled in a falsetto voice. Roxanne groaned, even though she was happy to finally be out of there, but still, she didn't get all the information she wanted from that insane clown.

"Hope you got everything you came here for," said a guard.

Roxanne quickly stashed her notes in her briefcase. "Most of it," she replied depressingly, and followed another guard down the dingy halls and out of Arkham Asylum. "Just what does that clown and others have against journalists?" She thought. "Actually...why did Joker and them agree to do these interviews? They usually turn down anyone...but why now? Is it me, or are they planning something?"