Ok…Basically, this is your bog-standard joker-escape story, but told only as he tells people how he got his scars
Ok…Basically, this is your bog-standard joker-escape story, but told only as he tells people how he got his scars. Will include…Oh, let's see. HarleyXJoker (but not much), Catwoman, a REALLY bad situation for Batman…involving Harley. And also the possible end of the Joker…cry.
The chapters will be short – that may please you, it may not. Oh well.
I don't own Batman or any of it sob. I really want a Batmobile, y'know :)
The Joker looked lazily at his newest psychoanalyst. She looked back, feeling her heart thud a little faster. She'd asked him all the usual questions, done all the tests, used all the tricks, and still all she had in her notebook was the word 'insane' underlined twice.
Her patient sighed, bored, and leaned forward, as if he was going to tell her a secret.
"So…" he paused, his tongue snaking out to lick his lips. "…d'you want to know how I got these scars?"
"They all say I'm, ah, an orphan? Well, they got that right. My uncle, uh…took care of me as a boy. He was a psychiatrist, see, specialising in…depression.
Now, a tough job like that can mean a guy needs a lot of…liquid comfort, and so my dear uncle comes home one night barely able to walk.
"Why so serious?" he asks me. He comes at me with his bottle. "I'm so sick of seeing faces like yours. Why doesn't anyone ever smile?"
He smashes the bottle against a worktop, steps towards me and…"