It was a typical night in Gotham City. A pure black sky hung over the buildings that scraped it, the lights blocking out the stars. Cars sped down the streets, never wanting to stay in one place for long. Homeless sat at every street corner.

And in a shady alleyway, a man stared down the barrel of a gun.

"Best give me your money, old man, and no one'll get hurt." The man holding the pistol threatened, his words slightly muffled by the clown mask he was wearing.

"Okay j-just don't h-hurt me." The old man stuttered, sweat running down his forehead. He looked as if he was about to have a heart attack as he reached into the pocket of his trenchcoat and pulled out his wallet.

The clown man yanked the leather wallet from the old man's hands and quickly checked it. His eyes narrowed behind the holes of his mask as he shouted, "There aint anything in here! You tryin to cheat me?"

"N-no!" The old man answered desperately. "I just don't have any cash on me. My c-credit cards are still in there…"

"I need cash, old man!" The clown man snarled, pressing his pistol against the old man's head. "Now I gotta kill ya."

"N-no!"

A blinding light suddenly filled the alley. With a cry of surprise, both men covered their eyes, the intense glow practically burning their eye sockets. For several seconds, the light dominated the narrow alley before it slowly disappeared.

The clown man was the first to drop his arm and look. As faint bits of white electricity arced through the air randomly, scattering pieces of trash around, a ragged man kneeled in the middle of the concrete. He was dressed in a tattered grey hoodie, his hair also withered and grey.

The man clutched at his face, looking like he was sobbing in pain.

"What the…" The clown man began.

The ragged man suddenly raised his head. His face was crazed, his eyes wide and his mouth set in a drooling snarl. Energy illuminated his body, blinking his body from an x-ray of a laughing skeleton to a normal human with skin and back again until it finally settled on human. It was like someone had taken an inmate from Arkham and plugged him into an electrical socket on cartoons.

"The drumming," The crazed man sobbed, pressing against his temples as if a bomb was going off inside his brain. "It's still there. Why is it still there?"

This was bad, the clown man thought. He was just trying to take an old man's money. He didn't want to deal with any super-powered bullshit.

"Hey, you!" The clown man shouted, pointing his pistol at the crazed man. "You picked the wrong alley to teleport in, you fu—"

The crazed man's eyes suddenly darted to the clown man. Gritting his teeth, he growled, "I'm still…hungry."

"Yeah, well, you're not going to be worrying about food for much longer." The clown man taunted.

The crazed man grinned a tooth-filled smile. "You're right."

Impossibly fast, the man jumped up from his kneeling position and grabbed at the clown man's shirt, holding him up and slamming his against the nearby brick wall. The force was enough for the clown man to lose his grip on the pistol, the gun clattering to the concrete ground.

"W-what're you doing, man?" The clown man whimpered, his voice not unlike the old man's just a few moments ago.

"Don't call me 'man'". He said, his insane smile still plastered onto his face. "My name is…The Master!"

With a demonic laugh, The Master's body lit up once more with an x-ray effect and the clown man spasmed in pain. As the life energy flowed from the clown man to The Master, he couldn't help but notice the look in the crazed man's eyes was not unlike his boss's. The gleam of murderous delight that only the Joker could replicate.

The clown man gasped one last breath before his body went limp. The Master sighed in delight as he dropped the mugger to the ground, like he had just taken the first sip of a Coke. As he turned to the side, he almost laughed when he saw the old man now pointing the dropped pistol at him, the gun shaking in the old man's grip.

"You're n-no hero." The old man stammered, trying to steady his grip as he backed away. "You're just as bad as the J-J-Joker."

"The Joker?" The Master chuckled, holding up an open palm. "Trust me when I say that when it comes being bad…"

A beam of electric energy fired from his hand, striking the old man in the chest. The man's skeleton was visible through the skin as he screamed in pain before he sprawled to the ground. The old man's lifeless eyes stared up at the night sky as his muscles went through their final death spasms.

The Master stood over his victim's corpse and smiled down at it.

"…I'm The Master."