A/N: Even though I keep asking Santa, I still don't own the Joker. I actually got the inspiration for this fic in a dream, weirdly enough...
And now, here...we...go!
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Chaos.
How he loves that word.
It rolls off his tongue just right, every syllable bringing with it the coppery tang of blood, the acid taste of gasoline, the smoky flavor of an explosion that lights up the night sky.
He can never explain what it is about chaos that so fascinates him; he's never been good with words, and now isn't the time to start trying. So he tries to show those little ants running around at his feet that call themselves people exactly what chaos is because sometimes when all else fails, a good visual is exactly what people need to understand.
And anything can turn into chaos, really, it just takes some imagination. For example—or not, actually, he's never been too fond of examples, they're too organized for his taste. Anyway, back to imagination; if you can't figure out at least five ways to kill someone using, say, a snow globe, then you could never be one to try and bring chaos into people's lives.
Speaking of snow globes, ever notice how much they mirror the so-called "ideals" of society? Just think about the little snowflakes that rest so calmly on the quiet little city inside its protective dome. Once in a while, someone comes along that shakes things up, and the snow flies around, obstructing the citizens' view and creating chaos. And it's all fine and dandy so long as that chaos is predictable, is contained.
But what happens when a Joker comes along and breaks the protective dome and spills the chaos all over, laughing all the while, hmm? The Bat runs around with his little mop, trying to sponge up all of the madness that he can, but there will always be some down in those deep crevices, imprinted into the corners, that will never go away, never be saved.
And he is consecutively both the person who breaks the globe wide open and the snowflakes down too deep for the Bat to ever reach, leaving his chemical residue and his makeup stains and his fireworks displays in Gotham's memory forever. And that's just the way it should be.
A/N: Alright, that was me trying to get into the Joker's head. How'd I do?
