Checked
___________________
My little Theories.
When I think of the word 'joker', I think of the word trickster. Like Puck in Midsummers Night Dream or Coyote from Native American legends or Loki from Norse mythology. The trickster is a deity that breaks the rules of nature, but in the end, the world in the story has change for the better because of that law-breaking trickster. An unsung hero. An anti-hero.
Whenever a person from Gotham thinks of the word 'joker', they think of the mad man that terrified the city last July. They think of the white, red, and black stage make-up that was smeared on his face. They think of the purple and green suit he wore on his body. They think of the bone chilling soundtrack of his laughter and the crude words he said. They think of the 'show' he put on for city, complete with explosive drama with a slice of tragedy. They think of the psychopathic, mass murdering, schizophrenic clown with zero empathy that call himself The Joker.
I was not in Gotham City then. I was on the other side of the country, on the coast of California. I was actually packing up my stuff to move to Gotham the day The Joker stood up and caught the attention of the nation's spotlight and camera lights. My friends and family thought I was little out of my head for moving from San Francisco to Gotham, but when this whole business with The Joker started, they thought I was complete and utterly crazy and suicidal to go through with the move. My Dad was scared shit-less for me. He didn't buy me pepper-spray, like usual fathers do. He bought me a shot-gun and bullets to go with it. A week after The Joker was caught, I was in my 1968 Volkswagen Beetle heading towards Gotham City. That was six months ago.
It was not hard to get a back seat for The Joker guest lecture for there was only five people, plus myself and Professor Flores, the teacher that taught the behavior analyst coarse. He looked like an average college professor. He was in his late 40's. The only hair left on his head was a mustache and some nose hairs. He was dressed in his usual gray suit and his tie was either navy blue with red strips, or red with navy blue stripes. He was standing in front of the auditorium behind his podium. Someone had set up a cloth screen in front of the auditorium and placed a small web camera and a table in front of the screen. There was a projector on desks not too far away from me. Out of the forty regular students, only six students had shown up. Grace Adams, Brandon Colemen, Xavier Watson, Antonio 'call me Tony' Castilo, Edward Nygma, and myself, Alice Conner, were the only ones brave enough or stupid enough or crazy enough to show up. The lights were dimmed.
"Hello there," the Professor started off, "this lecture is not about condemnation of what the criminal that we know as The Joker. I know, I know, what he did was cruel and unusual. What he did was down right inhumane. He is the reason I have too few students in not in my class this year and today... This QA is not about that. It is the why.... to put logic to the illogical.... Before we get started, what do you know about The Joker? How about... you, Ms. Adams. What do you think of The Joker?"
My gaze shifted to the seat in front of me where Grace sat doodling in her notebook. She had blonde hair pull back in a tight bun and wore tin-frames glasses. Grace Adams was one of those narrow-minded people and lost attention easily on one thing. Her world was so black and white; if you thought just outside the norm or had a different lifestyle than hers, then you were a freak to her. I bet you a cookie that she will say that The Joker is crazy or insane, but she would not think of anything fast enough to back up that statement.
"I think he is just plain crazy," Grace stated in an angry tone. You owe me a cookie.
"Ok. How many of you agree with that statement?" Professor Flores asked the class. Grace, Brandon, Xavier, and Tony raised their hands. Edward tiled his hand in a 'maybe yes/maybe no' gesture. I didn't raise my hand.
"Why are you shaking your hand, Mr. Nygma," Professor Flore asked the guy that sat a couple seats away from me to my right. I didn't really know anything of Edward Nygma's personalty. He kept to himself in class and had sort of a lazy look about him when ever I saw him around campus. Rumor has it, he was a big party animal and would stay up all night at parties making the drinks. His drinks were legendary.
He had sea-green eyes and Irish red hair that you could spot anywhere in a crowd. Edward rolled his eyes at the question.
"I'm showing that I only agree to half of that statement." He paused for a second, "He does things and he doesn't know why he does them, but then you look back later and think on how he did things...the things he did without truly thinking about how they would work in his plan, are actually pure genius. He seems he is not all there, but then he is there at the same time."
"Good observance, Mr. Nygma. Now what about you Ms. Connor," the professor asked me.
I thought for a moment, and then answered. "He's bored."
"He's bored, Ms. Connor?" the professor said in confusion.
"Yes. He's bored. That's why he plays with The Batman. He's not crazy. He is far from it. He's probably very intelligent and because he's very intelligent, he's very bored... He could have killed Batman a lot of times, but he didn't because Batman is a challenge for him. Why kill your fun? It's classic case of the 'heroes-dilemma'. If the hero kills the villain, then he is out of his job. That's what the Batman has done. We have not seen or heard from the Batman since the Jokers went to the slammer. After the Joker, petty robbers and gang-bangers seem like a joke... The Joker spices life up for Batman, just as the Batman spices life up for the Joker," I said as I played with my No. 2 pencil.
"So you're saying he is sane...If he is sane, then why are his crimes so random? I've heard he doesn't even plan his robbers," commented Brandon Colemen from across the room.
"He plans, sort of. He plans he wants to jack a place. He plans to use a certain weapon to jack the place. He plans some way to escape. That's it... He doesn't get to the details, which leaves him with many more options than having a strict ritual that he has to follow... Wouldn't it kill the fun doing the same thing over and over again," I shot back to him. I to my right and spotted Edward Nygma. He was starring at me in a very odd and unpleasant way. It looked like he was either fascinated by me or he wanted to rip my head off. I think he wanted to rip my head off more.
"Alright, we think we know the Joker, but we have never had a conversation with him. We have him here today via video feed. Do not say your name and don't get too personal. This is the first lecture out of three." As Professor Flores said this, the face of the clown prince of crime appeared on the screen. I around at the auditorium. Everyone had their eyes glued to the screen. People pulled back into their chairs. Someone gasped. There was dead silence. I was thinking that if I dropped a pin, I would hear the echo bounce off the walls. He, The Joker, was the center of attention.
The Joker looked around the auditorium. He flicked his gaze over my form. I glared back at him. Then that gazed passed over the rest of the auditorium. He stared at us. We stared at him. He stared at me. I was watching the rest of the room. For a whole three minutes (that felt like eternity), no one said a word. Then out of the blue, the Joker, this man on the screen with Glasgow smile, burst out laughing. I nearly jumped out of my chair. That laughter died as quickly as it came. Anger replaced the laughter.
"Why so serious," the Joker said as he licked his lips. His voice was sinister, but mocking at the same time. It was like his voice was dripped with laughter and crudity that could make anyone's skin crawl. Everyone in the classroom was silent. We all knew that we were having the Joker as a guest speaker, but it still didn't prepare us for, well... him.
With the clown make-up striped away, he looked almost...human. I knew this guy was the Joker, but then I didn't know this guy was the Joker? Does that even make sense? If I had passed this man on the street, I would not have pegged him as the Joker. I would have say he had an odd manner and maybe thought he was attractive, but would not have given him a second look. He was young. Late 20's-Early 30's. The expression in his face and his eyes made him look a little older, a little scarier. He had bags under his dark brown eyes. I was curious about his Glasgow smile and I took a closer look.
"Why are of you scared? Is it the...scars? You want to know how got em?" asked the man with the Glasgow smile on the TV screen. I heard Grace start hyperventilating. She quickly got up and ran, not walk, to the doors behind me. She looked a little green around the gills to me. One down. Six to go.
"I...I think not, Mr. Joker. Maybe later. Why don't you tell us...I mean, introduce yourself properly by telling us your real name," said Professor Flores. I look at over at him. He was sweating. Flores was putting up a good front, but he was also rattled by the Joker.
"Why don't you tell me yours, fir-st." I thought the Joker was talking to Flores, but Flores looked at me. Was the Joker talking to me? I look back at the Joker. He was leaning into the camera, peering out into the classroom.
"Sooo- what's your name, toots?" Great. Think fast.
"It's Rabbit," I said. Oh crap. Why did I say my childhood name? Why did Mother even give me a stupid nickname like 'Rabbit' as a child? Oh yeah, because of that fairytale by Lewis Carroll. I loved Alice in Wonderland when I was a kid, but I never wanted to be nicknamed after that cute, fuzzy hairball that had time management issues. My mother gave me and my older sister and brothers a nickname as children. She kept on calling us by our nicknames until she forgot about us.
"Realllly," he said as his brow goes up.
"Yes, really," I said with my best fake smile.
"Are you sure, now? Ya know, I hate liars." He licked the scar inside his mouth.
"I'm not lying. It is my name, and then it isn't... Now, what about your name? Are you compensating for something when you put the 'the' in front of your name, I wonder," I said as I sat forward in my chair.
"Ohhh, a sharp tough. I wonder what else you could do with that tough of yours." The Joker giggled as he said this. He was holding back his laughter. If he was going to laugh at me, why doesn't he just fully laugh it up? I was going to make a snarly remark back at him but I was interrupted by the guy a few seat to the right of me, Edward Nygma.
"So how did you control your gang," asked Edward. The Joker looked at him and cocked his head to the side in confusion.
"What do you...a mean. I don't have a 'gang'." The Joker smacked his lips in disgust as he said it.
"How did you control your thugs? I mean, they knew you usually took out your own men. What made them come back to you and not talk to the police? What did you do to push them over the limit to obey you," asked Edward. I looked at Edward. I saw no emotion in his face. He was controlling it very well. A hella lot better then me.
"Well, Ya know. I really did nothing. For some reason or another...ya see... they come to me. For being outcasts of sociality or for petty money, though the ones that are in it for the money don't last very long...well, very of them few last long." The Joker suddenly erupted into laughter.
"You still have not explained why they didn't go to the police." Edward's control on his emotions was slipping. His face was fine, but his voice was sounding like a child that didn't get a straight answer from an adult. The Joker kept on laughing for a minute or so. He calmed down enough to talk again, but he was still having fits of giggles.
"Ha Ha Heh Heh Heh Hehh... You obviously have not been in town long, kid. Don't you know there are a lot and I mean a lot of schemers this town's justice system. If someone went to them for a type of pro-tection… hee hee. They would end up pushing up daisies... Maybe by me, bu-t most likely from the cop who's suppose' to be protecting them," said the Joker in a low mocking voice. He turned his attention back at me.
"Why so serious, bunny. Did I frighten our little rabbit with my talk," he said with a cutesy voice. The type of voice an adult would say to a toddler. Oh, I'm pissed.
"No...No, you didn't. What you say is true. Gotham's justice department is full of corruptions and back-room deals. You would most likely to be shot by the police than be shot by a punk on the street. I'm curious, though," I said, looking the Joker straight in the eyes.
"Curious, huh? Doesn't curiosity kill the bunny in the end," the Joker said with amusement. Ha Ha, very amusing. Such a joke. Such a joker.
"I have two little theories about your smile. I noticed that the right side of your Glasgow smile was curvier and of cleaner cut then the left side. I guess that whoever did that to you had a better hold on your head and did the cut much faster on the right side then on the left. If you had cut up your own face, then you did the left side first. You hesitated on the left side, then gain courage on doing the right. I can't tell if you did it yourself or someone else did it for y-." I stopped talking for there was nothing on the screen to talk to. Joker had taken the screen on his end and thrown it against a wall or something. I had seen the rage and the hate building in his eyes when I explained my little theories. I swear, if it wasn't for me being here and him being there.... Well, I don't want to think about him being here, in the same room.
Everyone cleared out of the auditorium in silence and as quickly as possible with out seeming impolite. I felt Edward Nygma's stare burning the hairs off the back of my head. Mental Note: stay the hell away from Edward Nygma.
That night, I watched old movies with my roommate, Kitty Zhu. We stayed up most of the night. Kitty fell asleep somewhere in the middle of The Maltese Falcon. I finally fell asleep when Humphrey Bogart said that famous movie line in Casablanca. He had slammed his fist on the table, jiggling his glasses of alcohol, looking pissed.
"Of all the gin joints, in all the towns, in all the world's, she walks into mine."
