Commissioner Gordon...hmm...even I liked the sound of that. From my little jail cell cubicle, my fish bowl prison...there for all to gaggle and point and spit at, I grinned my special grin and clapped, albeit mockingly. But when was I NOT mocking? Hm?
I clapped, because I wanted to show all those puny little good for nothings that I had a sense of HUMOR. I clapped because, I'll admit it, I needed some attention, every once in a while. I needed to be looked at like some sort of poisonous bug to be stepped on, because it gave me such feelings of power when I affirmed that step on me they could not. I clapped to show that I was in control, and I clapped because I knew deep within me, with terrific glee, that Jimmy Gordon, wonder boy bat wannabe, wouldn't be as easy to get rid of as his...predecessor. It was a whole new game to me, this abrupt change of power. A game in which I fully intended to manipulate, rule break, and reek havoc. Because games, when played by the right people...games promised chaos. I'm and agent of chaos.
I'm a master of murder too....but what did that matter in the short-run?
I planned on playing with our little Commissioner first.