Greetings New and Past readers. Welcome to The Purge. I hope you enjoy the first chapter and find yourself reading further. Please review at times you see fit and I appreciate any feedback you are willing to give. Enjoy your read and let me remind you... evil comes in the most unlikely forms.
Disclaimer: I do not own anything in this story and these characters are fictional. I am simply using certain aspects of popular characters to protray a story that has not been written, spoken, or acted out before.
Chapter One: Out with the Old
It was a sunny day in Gotham City on the day everything changed. The Joker, whose preferred name was Francis (not that anyone cared to ask), woke up at exactly 4:15, scrubbed the sleep out of his eyes, emptied his bladder, put on his make-up to cover up his scars and scratches from an abusive childhood, and stumbled his way down the stairs to wash out the bad taste of a nightmare with a glass of bourbon. He stumbled into the kitchen at exactly 4:45 to find that not only was he out of his strong drink, but he was out of bread to make toast. He always had toast on Tuesdays. By 5:30 Francis was out the door walking down Main Street with his poodle, IT.
Francis stopped at the corner of Main and Second and stared at the rubble of the old Gotham City Hotel. Only a week ago had it blown up unexpectedly. There was no warning call that most people were accustomed to here in Gotham City, only the bomb. The sole piece of evidence found by the police was a sticky note with To: Batman, From: Francis written in nearly illegible handwriting. The reporters were calling this no-namer a genius. The Joker laughed out loud, startling the birds on the wires.
"You know, IT," Francis giggled, "too bad Batman didn't die then. But then again, I guess I would like to kill him with the name everyone knows and fears. What do you say, boy?"
IT barked and scampered around Francis, wrapping the cord around his legs. Francis let out a hideous laugh. "Of course the no-namer is a genius! It's me!" He coughed repulsivelt and led IT down the road back to the house.
He arrived home on schedule, 5:47, where he found the newspaper haphazardly thrown on the front porch. Francis bent down and picked up the closest advertisement. Gotham Hospital was looking to hire female nurses to take care of the superheroes and regular heroes who were wounded during the 'mysterious bomb' fiasco. Francis smiled, reached for his nurse's uniform, and for the second time that day, he walked down Main, past the rubble of the hotel, and to the Gotham Hospital on the corner of Second and Freemans street. He was shocked to see a line extending far out into the street. Francis proceeded to the end of the line not as Francis Joker, but as Francesca Jokerbombs. As Francis, now Francesca, looked around at the surrounding 'applicants,' he was disappointed to see that all the other villains - even Manray and the Dirty Bubble from Sponge Bob - had the same idea: work as nurses and kill off their nemeses through either painkillers or slaughtering them inhumanely in the process of getting paid.
"So much for being a genius now," Francis mumbled and stepped next to the 'woman' dressed in a pantsuit and a veil covering half 'her' face. Francis muttered good morning and glanced up at the face. Half of it had the boyish charm of a certain ex-attorney, while the other side was seriously scarred and scraped and looked much like Francis's own face. The two-faced 'woman' nodded and continued to look straight ahead.
The line seemed to go on forever. Hours went by and the line of villains remained stagnant; the sun reached high noon before anything happened. Francis grew restless; he had not had his lunch of tuna fish and graham crackers at 11:27 or taken IT for another walk at 11:51. Suddenly, a fight broke out about six people up from Francis. A woman with a snake-like face, without a nose, and another woman draped in a black cape and helmet suddenly landed in a human knot on the concrete. The snake woman quickly regained her balance and shouted, "My name is Voldemorta. Avada Kedavra!" She emphasized the last two words, and a green light erupted from the end of the twig she was pointing at the black clad applicant. The green light hit the other woman square in the chest, and she lay still. Francis sighed. He had heard about Voldemort and Darth Vader before; it was no surprise that they ended up killing each other.
Another hour inched by and Francis grew even more restless. He had not folded his laundry at 12:42 or eaten his apple at 12:57. Suddenly, there was a low rumble that escalated into a roaring explosion. The noise and debris ripped through the street, shattering the windows, and seared the concrete and trees. Francis felt his skin pull away from his bone and melt down his face; his muscles tightened from the heat and begin to cook. His eyes blurred until he saw nothing but black.
On that fateful day, 315 villains were killed at the Gotham Hospital. The only two pieces of evidence left at the scene were a name tag with Francesca Jokerbomb scrawled in a fake girly handwriting and a sticky note with the words:
To: Francesca, Francis, Joker, etc.
From: Your Favorite Person
I have always known your name.
P.S. Too bad I had to kill you before it was the other way around.
