Dear Audience: So here we are again! #1. I do not own Batman & anything relating to such. #2. If this story displeases please do not read. #3. …. It's going to be a bit slow going I think at first. So don't hold your breath! Anyways! Please Enjoy!

Let the show commence!

Second Star to the Left.

By: Stella Limegood

Chapter 1:

The city was all out tonight! Rich ole Brucie boy hadn't wasted a cent!

He could see the Gala even a good mile away. With the dome of the astronomy building, the floating parade balloons, the fireworks, the hundreds of people, helicopters buzzing like mad, not to mention the spotlights, let alone the noise. It was impossible to miss.

"What a sight! Eh gentlemen. Hee heee heee." He chuckled darkly as he thought of his plan. "How dare they throw a shindig like this, without inviting me. Didn't that buffoon of a mayor learn last time what happens when I'm not invited?" he asked himself, tossing his finished cigarette into the water below. Not that he really cared, whether or not he had been invited. It was merely the principal of the matter. Besides he knew that old Batsey without a doubt would be there tonight on mother hen duty. That alone was reason enough for him, The Clown Prince of Crime to attend.

"Also," he thought to himself incredulously, "who ever heard of a party without a clown?" It just wouldn't due. No, that it wouldn't. He turned his back on the sight before him. To make sure the idiots he'd hired didn't screw up.

On the main deck, two of his men were loading the boat with enough kegs of ammunition to blow up 20 city blocks easily. "Just think boys," he spoke up to them, "those rich stars came to see some shooting, and won't they be! Why I bet if we get this right, will give em a whole damn meteor shower!" he laughed.

Seeing, the blast the kegs would cause, go off in the beams of the building, cutting it's support, play again just like a movie show, in his head. Yes. It was a genius plan. What better way to show his appreciation for the hard earned labor of this city, then to give them a no stops performance! By enabling their new observatory a perfect view of the underwater life of Gotham's' main river, a river of sludge, grime, dirt, bodies and, all in all a nice trash filled reflection of the city itself. Yes.

There was nothing like irony to give spice to humor.

He felt a wave of excitement come over him, he saw in his mind's eye, the screaming & terror he was going to unleash. As the ship his men sailed grew closer. He had his men dim the lights, easily enough. "So far, I only had to shoot one," he commented to himself.

The Joker's ship passed unnoticed in the dark, disguised as just another small yacht, immersed in the shadows around it. Finally their destination was reached.

Gotham's New Observatory was a true marvel. Supported by at least 20 strong thick beams of steel it rested over the water of the huge river, a river that flowed all around the city with a width of 800 miles, giving the building with it's domed top an illusionary look that it had risen out of the sea itself. Looking at the amount of steelwork that had been done to the construction of the base, Joker had no doubts that when seen from above or even on the level of the building's entrance it would be a masterpiece to rival that of La Sagrada Familia. For a split moment he felt a joy at the sight he was seeing, only to be followed by a jealous hate.

If the Joker had been more an honest fellow, maybe he would have known where the hate had come from. Perhaps he would even admit to some inexplicable feeling of. …purposelessness in this world?

He sighed to himself. Growing impatient. He despised it when he felt ridiculous things like that. He was chaos incarnate; there was no need for petty purposes! It was time he blew something up!

"Hey um, boss, um, Sir? Mr. Joker sir?" stammered the idiot behind him. "Perfect." He thought to himself, gun in hand, as he swung around smacking the poor chap so hard it made the guy hit the floor.

"Why Mr. Mitchell, whatever are you doing amongst my shoes? Heeeheeehee. The party's hasn't even begun? It's a little early to be passing out on the floor? Wouldn't you agree?" said the Joker grinning, as he knelt down to the fallen man, gun pushed lazily at the man's head.

Feeling his finger itching to just pull the trigger.

Mitchell as it were, was starting to sweat. Eyes open wide, he stared at the Joker, body shaking out of fear, he had thought the Joker in a pleasant mood.

Tom, Hank, Charlie and himself had finally finished setting the codes on the bombs for the Joker's plan, whilst the Joker himself had stood at the front of the ship smoking a cigarette. As they had been working Mitchell had noticed the Joker giggling to himself every few moments. Only to stop to shout out a quick order here & there, like, "Dim the lights you idiots," or "No. No. No. Turn right. That's it boys!" All in all, he had seemed to Mitchell approachable enough, much like any other boss Mitchell had worked for.

However, with the Joker now only a few inches from his own face. Gun pressed at his skull. He began to realize how utterly stupid he had been in thinking that the Joker was like anyone else! There was no one to compare him too!

Hair a bright deep, neon, jungle green with black roots, contrasted severely with the pale skin. Skin that surpassed the description sickly pale or even pale as snow. Why it was so pale, that in being as close as Mitchell was, a person could follow almost all the Joker's veins flowing under the skin. Worse yet was the scarring, over the years the Joker had gained plenty of incisions in his skin. None more horrifying, than the ones that stretched from the corners of his mouth up into the base of where his cheekbones rested, overlaying scars from torn stitches. Of which once an effort in healing had been attempted. His teeth were ironically perfect save a natural yellow coating on the enamel. But the gums were so red it looked like at any moment the Joker's mouth could start bleeding on a whole.

At the Joker's grin in of itself, Mitchell found no words to describe it. It seemed to him that he was simply looking at the devil's smile.

"Alloooooo? Mit. Mitchy? Anyone home?" cackled the Joker's voice. Grin stretching wider with the words.

Mitchell felt his body shaking so hard. His nerves were taught. He knew he had to respond to the Joker.

"Mitchy?" came the cheery tone. Cold metal shoved into the side of his head hard enough to bruise.

"M..ist…er. Mister Joe… Mister Joker sir!" stammered Mitchell. His back drenched in sweat.

"So you do speak! Good. Now Mitchy listen well, because I don't fancy repeating myself. Are you listening?" asked the Joker, voice taking on a subtle edge.

"Yes um. Sir. Joker Sir," replied Mitchell.

"Good. Because you see Mitch, tonight is your lucky night!" stated the Joker, as he all of sudden hauled Mitchell up onto his feet. One of his arms wrapping around Mitchell's shoulder, drawing poor Mitchell far too close for comfort.

"Now Mitcy. Here's the scoop! You know those party favors I had you & the boys prepare for tonight's guests? Right," asked the Joker eyes narrowing.

"Yes…yes um ..sir. Yes sir!" responded Mitchell voice wavering from fear. He felt his body shaking, so badly, there was no way that the Joker didn't notice. In fact as if the Joker had somehow read his thoughts, he felt the Joker's grip on his shoulder harden.

"Good. Well, since you so kindly volunteered to be the little spokesperson of your fellow comrades I've decided to give you a very important job!" Joker said as he patted Mitchell on the back. Other arm raised out in gesture towards all the gunpowder on the ship.

"Sir?" inquired Mitchell. Eyes widening, "Spokesperson? Shit. I've been singled out."

"That's right! Mitchy! Tonight you get to be my lieutenant! Understand. Now then, " said Joker forcing Mitchell to turn around, their bodies facing the Observatories Steel Support Base Beams, " see all those pretty beams Mit?"

"Yeah Boss?" said Mitchell.

"Good because you & the boys are going to set all our pretty party favors up here. One keg for each Base Beam, meanwhile I've asked Harley to meet me upstairs. Where we will give our guests some prime individual attention. With me so far kiddo?" asked Joker voice rising in octave, making him sound like a kid who was about to open his Christmas presents.

Thanking whatever Gods that Joker was now standing a little away from him. Mitchell was trying his hardest to maintain his breathing level, processing all that the Joker was asking him to do.

"Kegs to every beam, while you and Ms. Quinn go upstairs. Gotcha b….Boss!" said Mitchell, "So the Joker's gonna blow this place up. Well it's not like he hasn't done something similar before. I think? Hey wait a sec?"

"Precisely Mitchy pal! Now as Ms. Quinn and I are upstairs.." started Joker.

"But Boss! Wait a sec! Won't you get caught in the explosion being upstairs?" Interrupts Mitchell. Causing the Joker to simply stare for a second. Flabbergasted at the audacity, "Did this son of a bitch? Interrupt me? ME!?" thinks Joker.

"Well, Mitch that's a fair point.." begins the Joker again.

"And what happens when this place collapses?"

"He did it again!" thinks Joker. Hands now on his hips, left eyebrow arching. Deciding to chalk it up to temporary insanity due to prolong fear, he forgives the idiot and once again tries to lay out his plans.

"Ahem.. you see." Says Joker.

"I mean that's a lot folks!" states Mitchell.

"…."

" Plus with all this water & electrical cords?" adds Mitchell.

"What about them."

"Well, I mean suppose, now just suppose! You survived the explosion! Right?"

"Yeah..?"

"Well, you might make it through the explosion but without any support?"

"Go on."

"You'd just fall into the water and with all the falling rubble, added to the current, well sir, it just won't add up. I mean you'd have to be crazy to be in that building willing when we pull the plug. Hell? Why we even blowing up this place at all?" asks Mitchell, "Looks kinda nice even from underneath of it?" Says Mitchell, who at this point, due to insanity, brought on by fear, had long forgotten just whom exactly it was standing to his right.

"Gee. I dunno? Tell you what lets just put all my planning aside, & instead let's make a rocket ship!" says a low growling voice.

"Really!? That'd be neat! I always wanted to see a rocket!" says Mitchell.

"Good, because Houston here, has a serious problem." States the voice.

"Problem?" says Mitchell turning his head, to be met with a very pissed off Joker. "YEAH. SPACE CADETT! INTERRUPT ME AGAIN & OFF YOU GO!" Shouts the Joker rage twisting his face into a full-blown monster!

"Yeep! Yes Sir!" squeaks Mitchell in terror.

"Ugh," thinks Joker as he shakes his head. After he had explained everything to "Spacey" and the Boys, Joker had gone ahead with the second phase of his little operation. "Tonight's the night Batsey," he mumbled to himself in the darkness as he got off his little speed boat to arrive on the shore closest to where the main observatories entrance was, but far enough to not attract direct attention. As he got on shore, he was met with the sight of his Harley waiting for him. Eight goons he'd hired waited on either side of her. The stolen black limo prepped with firearms for him to use in aide of his escape.

Harley herself wore a simple strapless red gown with a slit, along with a black diamond necklace about her neck. She was leaning on the limo, one leg arched so that the Joker got a view. Goons on either side, when he got close enough she spoke to him, "Heya Puddin! Got the car, revved up for ya!"

He felt himself smirk, " Indeed my perfect little puppet."

Glancing at the boys, he waved his hand to signal them into the limo, "Well then, start the engine fellas! It's time to send in the clowns!"