Once upon a time, there was a little boy; his name was Jack. Jack loved making people laugh, card games,
magic tricks and jokes. The sound of laughter was all Jack needed, even as he grew into his teens. His
dads laugh was infectious. His laugh made you laugh.
Craig, Jacks dad, loved Jack with all of his heart and soul. So when people didn't laugh at his sons
jokes or his tricks Craig would get extremely frustrated. So frustrated that he eventually became insane,
his mind warped into making people laugh to make his son feel better. There was one thing Craig hated more
then strangers being serious was when Jacks mother didn't laugh at the efforts Jack made to make her laugh.
She just sat there with a stony face. Craig couldn't handle it, who needs a serious wife. Him and Jack were
perfectly fine by themselves. Craig got rid of Sally, permanently. Jack saw everything. How his dad stabbed
his mother screaming "are you going to be serious now? We don't need you. Fuck you, you stupid bitch" Jack couldn't
do anything. He just fell to his knees and cried. His father heard him, turned and screamed "Why the fuck
are you so serious?"Jack didn't reply, he just turned and he ran. Ran for his life.
When Jack turned 18, after going from family member to family member, he decided to become his own man. He
got a job. He quickly discovered he belonged nowhere normal, mob bosses and overlords were the only people
who understood him. He worked for them getting small jobs done and making his way up the chain. Or so he
thought.
The idea of a scapegoat is simple enough. Blame someone else for things you have done. Jack was a scapegoat.
He'd been requested to go on a robbery, he agreed thinking that things where finally looking up. That was
until he discovered his 'friends' had been plotting against him, making him the scapegoat. So he did what
any normal person would do right? He shot at them, but kept them alive because they were far too much fun
to play with. Well until he got bored, shot them all in the head and took the millions of dollars they'd
taken out the vault. He never knew that thevault happened to belong to Bruce Wayne.
Years later, thousands of crimes committed and Jacks sanity so lost there wasn't a map large enough.
Not that he cared, Jack was The Joker. The enemy number one of Gotham City and therefore The Batman. He
enjoyed having were his play things and he could do whatever the fuck he wanted to do with
them. Make them dance, make them shot each other in the head or whatever funny thing popped into his head.
Driven mad with power, money and drugs, he trusted no one, not even himself. No one was privy to that
information, his constant smile made sure he never gave away anything. His smile carved with the same
knife that had stabbed his mother and slit his fathers throat. He learned many lessons from his life.
The biggest lesson he'd learnt; 'Being serious does nothing but land you in shit.' He'd never be serious again.
The Joker and his Chelsea Grin lived murderously ever after

The End xo