Disclaimer: Batman and all Batman-related criteria are the property of DC Comics and Warner Bros.
Officer Jude Garland had put in his transfer from Kinsman, Ohio almost two years ago. Finally, his dream had come true. He was a member of the Gotham City Police Department.
Garland had visited Gotham as a teenager and the city's dark beauty had immediately captured him. He loved the tall spires and peaks adorning the skyline, which sharply contrasted with the dull, flat farm community where he was raised.
Officer Garland shook the memories of "hick-ville" from his head and returned to the moment at hand. He was out on the beat, patrolling Murphy Avenue in Gotham's Upper East Side. The neighborhood was usually quiet. He enjoyed his long walks along the well-lit cement.
Ever since he had arrived at Gotham, the other officers had given him flack about requesting to be put on the beat. They all had some kind of boogieman story to tell him. If it wasn't a scarecrow with a gas that made you hallucinate, then it was a man with the delusion he jumped straight out of a Lewis Carroll novel. He had heard rumors of a half man, half crocodile haunting the sewers, a mud-man that could change shape at will, a man who played "Dr. Doolittle" with sewer rats, and a (literally) two-faced man. He could not help but wonder what had spawned all these lies. He might have just arrived in town last week, but he hadn't been born yesterday. Back in Kinsman, he had been the one doing the hazing. He once had a young man sitting in a field hunting "snipe" for an entire evening. On the other hand, Garland had witnessed a man in a green suit covered with question marks, called Riddle-Man or something like that, brought into the station yesterday. If a man could be compelled to dress up in a leotard and send puzzles to the police for the sheer purpose of being caught, maybe there was an inkling of truth to these figments of the imagination.
There were more than just rumors of costumed mutants and miscreants though. It seemed everyone on the force had a story about the "all-seeing" bat that roamed Gotham's rooftops, a mystical bat that guarded the citizens from the aforementioned villains and monsters. While he would have liked to believe in the Bat-Man, he knew it all to be gossip and lore picked up off jittery crooks and thieves, passed on to cops in the station. Still, there was a nagging wish in the back of his head for it all to be true. Certainly would make life more interesting. As he mulled over that last thought, he heard what sounded like… laughter.
Several feet in front of him, a sewer cover was lifted from its resting place. A man with green hair and a ghastly complexion leapt out and landed on the pavement. He kept his back to Garland, running his gloved hand through his emerald mane. Garland noted the man's resemblance to a clown.
"Woo… Last time I ever go to Croc's for cards. Keeps trying to call trump during poker…"
As he straightened the lapels on his purple jacket, he turned to see Garland giving him an odd look. The pale man's smile turned to a scowl, then back to a wicked grin.
"Well, well… This little piggy didn't stay home. Certainly doesn't have any roast beef either…"
The clown reached into his jacket and retrieved a small sphere with a smiley face on it. With a chuckle, he tossed it at Garland. "Catch!"
Garland caught the small orb and looked down into his hands. A panel on the side dropped out and gas began to escape. As he dropped the grenade, he started giggling. The giggling gave way to a fit of laughter. Garland was laughing so hard he collapsed to the ground.
The pale man grinned at the officer rolling around on the ground. He joined in the laughter with his own trademark cackle. After a good laugh, he turned and started walking down the street. He called out to the police officer. "Glad you liked the gag, because the punch line is on its way. Ciao!"
As Garland watched the cackling clown walk away, he reached to his holster and drew his gun. He tried to point it at the pale man walking away from him, but his laughter kept him from holding the gun steady. His giggling was making it hard for him to breathe. As he fell to the ground again, he pulled the trigger. The bulb of a streetlight several feet away shattered as the bullet passed through. Officer Garland laughed harder than before, tears streaming down his face.
Through his teary eyes, he saw a shadow swoop down from the sky. He felt a gloved hand on his shoulder. Garland reached up and felt the muscular arm holding him steady. He grasped the arm with both hands. "Ha, heh, huh, huh-help me," he gasped between guffaws.
As he drifted into unconsciousness, he felt the quick sting of a needle in his neck. A gravelly voice echoed into his failing conscious. "Hang on officer. An ambulance is on the way."
Officer Jude Garland had put in his transfer from Kinsman, Ohio almost two years ago. Finally, his dream had come true. He was a member of the Gotham City Police Department.
Garland had visited Gotham as a teenager and the city's dark beauty had immediately captured him. He loved the tall spires and peaks adorning the skyline, which sharply contrasted with the dull, flat farm community where he was raised.
Officer Garland shook the memories of "hick-ville" from his head and returned to the moment at hand. He was out on the beat, patrolling Murphy Avenue in Gotham's Upper East Side. The neighborhood was usually quiet. He enjoyed his long walks along the well-lit cement.
Ever since he had arrived at Gotham, the other officers had given him flack about requesting to be put on the beat. They all had some kind of boogieman story to tell him. If it wasn't a scarecrow with a gas that made you hallucinate, then it was a man with the delusion he jumped straight out of a Lewis Carroll novel. He had heard rumors of a half man, half crocodile haunting the sewers, a mud-man that could change shape at will, a man who played "Dr. Doolittle" with sewer rats, and a (literally) two-faced man. He could not help but wonder what had spawned all these lies. He might have just arrived in town last week, but he hadn't been born yesterday. Back in Kinsman, he had been the one doing the hazing. He once had a young man sitting in a field hunting "snipe" for an entire evening. On the other hand, Garland had witnessed a man in a green suit covered with question marks, called Riddle-Man or something like that, brought into the station yesterday. If a man could be compelled to dress up in a leotard and send puzzles to the police for the sheer purpose of being caught, maybe there was an inkling of truth to these figments of the imagination.
There were more than just rumors of costumed mutants and miscreants though. It seemed everyone on the force had a story about the "all-seeing" bat that roamed Gotham's rooftops, a mystical bat that guarded the citizens from the aforementioned villains and monsters. While he would have liked to believe in the Bat-Man, he knew it all to be gossip and lore picked up off jittery crooks and thieves, passed on to cops in the station. Still, there was a nagging wish in the back of his head for it all to be true. Certainly would make life more interesting. As he mulled over that last thought, he heard what sounded like… laughter.
Several feet in front of him, a sewer cover was lifted from its resting place. A man with green hair and a ghastly complexion leapt out and landed on the pavement. He kept his back to Garland, running his gloved hand through his emerald mane. Garland noted the man's resemblance to a clown.
"Woo… Last time I ever go to Croc's for cards. Keeps trying to call trump during poker…"
As he straightened the lapels on his purple jacket, he turned to see Garland giving him an odd look. The pale man's smile turned to a scowl, then back to a wicked grin.
"Well, well… This little piggy didn't stay home. Certainly doesn't have any roast beef either…"
The clown reached into his jacket and retrieved a small sphere with a smiley face on it. With a chuckle, he tossed it at Garland. "Catch!"
Garland caught the small orb and looked down into his hands. A panel on the side dropped out and gas began to escape. As he dropped the grenade, he started giggling. The giggling gave way to a fit of laughter. Garland was laughing so hard he collapsed to the ground.
The pale man grinned at the officer rolling around on the ground. He joined in the laughter with his own trademark cackle. After a good laugh, he turned and started walking down the street. He called out to the police officer. "Glad you liked the gag, because the punch line is on its way. Ciao!"
As Garland watched the cackling clown walk away, he reached to his holster and drew his gun. He tried to point it at the pale man walking away from him, but his laughter kept him from holding the gun steady. His giggling was making it hard for him to breathe. As he fell to the ground again, he pulled the trigger. The bulb of a streetlight several feet away shattered as the bullet passed through. Officer Garland laughed harder than before, tears streaming down his face.
Through his teary eyes, he saw a shadow swoop down from the sky. He felt a gloved hand on his shoulder. Garland reached up and felt the muscular arm holding him steady. He grasped the arm with both hands. "Ha, heh, huh, huh-help me," he gasped between guffaws.
As he drifted into unconsciousness, he felt the quick sting of a needle in his neck. A gravelly voice echoed into his failing conscious. "Hang on officer. An ambulance is on the way."