Author's note: While I am flattered that the people who have reviewed are very happy to hear more from this story, please know that I cannot respond to you when you are making an anonymous review. If you wish to hear from me before I post a new chapter (as it is against the rules to make a chapter which is only an author's note), you'll have to make an account to PM me with.

Furthermore, I am a busy person who can't always put time aside to write. Badgering me to write the next chapter quickly will Not cause me to write it sooner. As for your requests, I apologize, but I will be sticking to my own ideas for this story.

Thanks for your interest, and here's part two!

Jester was up in his tower, poring over his crystal ball (well... his sister's crystal ball). He flicked the glass, trying to get something, anything to appear inside of it – he hadn't really figured out how to use it yet, which he would never admit. What seemed to work best was staring at it unblinkingly and demanding the orb to show him what he wanted to see. He didn't quite have the attention span for that, though, so he usually resorted to shouting at it.

"C'mon! Stupid thing! Show me something important!" He pressed his face against the glass. "I don't care what, just make it good, I need info on these jerks!" The crystal ball refused to cooperate. "GGGH! Ok, alright, uh..." Jester drummed his fingers on the top of the ball. "Please," he said nicely, "Please let me see the girl and her... um... her... favorite minions?"

He hoped that "favorite minions" was an acceptable substitute for "friend," a word he didn't find applicable. One could say he was a tragic villain, whose heart was too broken to be able to utter a word so evocative of happiness. But that's not right, he had spoken the word "friend" before. In this story, actually. Anyway, he didn't use this word for Dorothy, Tin Man and Lion because he just didn't think Dorothy was friends with those other people. In his mind, Dorothy was a selfish liar who used people by making them think she was on their side. She had killed his sister, and really, the Wicked Witch of the West was all Jester had. Yes, his sister was frightful and spitefully made him a clown. That didn't mean he wanted her dead.

He shook his head, trying to keep this rambling narrative from stopping his concentration on the orb. It kept going against his will. The last thing that he (subconsciously) wanted to make clear was that he was better than Dorothy simply because he was honest about his intentions. At least he announced his innate wickedness to everyone. At least he didn't pretend to be angelic. And at least he – wait! The orb is showing something.

The crystal had gleamed brighter and brighter throughout Jester's inner dialogue. It seemed that the source of its power was angst. To his surprise, he had caused them to fall over a waterfall. He must have unconsciously chanted a spell while he mentally reviewed his past. Jester danced around, clicking his heels. Following their crash, the orb had shown him so many helpful things: the death of China princess (actually, who cares?), the fight between Dorothy and the others (good, good), and most importantly, the fact that she made everyone, including Tin Man and Lion, stay behind while she went forward alone.

Perfect. This makes everything so much easier, the Jester thought to himself with glee. Now all he needed was a big net to trap her in. Or maybe a giant pendulum blade to surprise her with as she walked through the door. A net would be better, though. It's not very fun to kill someone instantly, because then there's no chance to tell them how much they suck.

Meanwhile, still on a wheel, was Scarecrow, replaying the night's events in his head (as he had been for the entire time Jester was up in the tower). He couldn't believe himself! This joker is completely despicable. How could he be so attracted to him?

Every gust of wind whistling through the spaces in the castle's stone, every crumble of gravel beneath the feet of Ozian vermin made Scarecrow whip his head around, trying to get a sight – is it Jester? Is he back? Nope. So each time, he would scold himself for wanting to see the Obvious Bad Guy again. If anyone, it's Dorothy and the gang he should be searching for when he hears a noise. Just embarrassing. Absolutely embarrassing.

When he heard a faint squeaking, he told himself to calm down, it couldn't be the Jester's unicycle. No, really, it couldn't. He had left it on the floor earlier, it was within Scarecrow's line of vision. When he heard a tap dance-like stepping around him, he told himself to quit dreaming, it couldn't be the Jester's feet. Again, he was right, it was just a bunch of Oz rats practicing for a show. They were the ones squeaking before, he figured. When he heard giggling behind him, he told himself, wow, you need to get some sleep, because rats certainly don't giggle, even if they're Ozian rats. This time he was right again. He screeched like a pterodactyl when Jester appeared upside-down right in front of Scarecrow's face.

Jester hopped off of his broomstick, laughing so hard that his guffaws were silent. For anyone who has never laughed that hard, please know that it looks ridiculous. Scarecrow was hyperventilating.

"Don't... Do... That," Scarecrow said through ragged breaths.

"Wet blanket," Jester replied, pressing his ear to Scarecrow's chest to hear his heart pound. Wait. Heart? Better not question it. "Beautiful! Now that you're wide awake, let's talk."

Scarecrow let out a huge sigh, effectively calming himself down. He had been so shocked that he didn't have time to appreciate seeing Jester again. He wants to... talk? "About what?"

"YOU!"

Scarecrow opened his mouth to stammer but stopped when the flying monkey from before sped in immediately. Jester demanded a chair, which the monkey brought from the other side of the room. Then the monkey was dismissed. The Jester sat on the cushioned seat with crossed legs. He recrossed them. Then he put his feet on the chair and rested his chin on his knees. Then he scoffed and turned the chair around to sit backwards on it. There.

"Okie-dokie. We are going to talk about you. NOT – no, not you, go away," he said as the purple-mohawked monkey peeked from behind a wall. "Shoo. Go." The monkey left. He turned back to look at Scarecrow, who was unsure if he should stammer or not.

"Oh – uh – ?" was all Scarecrow could manage. The things rushing through his mind were pretty sensual. His first thoughts involved Jester quizzing him and … rewarding him for right answers. Or better, punishing him for wrong answers. He blushed at the thought of Jester slapping him across the face for not knowing the square footage of the Emerald City. Ooh.

Jester cocked an eyebrow at Scarecrow's loopy smile. Maybe he needs to give him some fresh air somehow. He looks a bit flushed. Is he sick? Oh well. "Yyyeah... So. First off, I want to let you know that your pig-tailed queen is on her way, and she left everyone else to die alone." He beamed. "Also, she killed a porcelain princess and didn't do anything to try and save her. I was checking out my crystal ball, and get this – some big puffy guy ripped himself apart to glue her back together! Ew!" His face was alight with unbridled joy, waiting for a reaction from Scarecrow. After awhile, Scarecrow stirred out of his fantasy.

"Sorry, what?"

Jester pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance. "Dorothy's coming and everyone else is going to die," he recapped flatly. Scarecrow gaped, lost for words. "Yep, she left them all behind! She should be here within a day or so. But, enough about that. Whatcha thinkin' 'bout?" he said in a sing-song voice, batting his eyelashes at Scarecrow.

Jester's feminine wiles were distracting but easy to overcome when it concerned Scarecrow's friends. "H-How do I know you're not lying? About Dorothy, and the others?"

"What! Why in the world would I lie? I prefer to hurt people with the truth. It's more rewarding."

"You don't expect me to believe that, do –"I do, I do! We can't change it anyway, might as well move on! Come now, let's have a fun chat!"

Scarecrow was appalled. He glared at Jester as hard as he could possibly glare.

"Oh, please." Jester stood and stomped on the end of his broomstick, causing it to flip up and into his hand. He smacked the end onto the ground before him, causing a thick smoke to stir around the two of them. "THE LAST FIVE MINUTES YOU HAVE FORGOT, EXCEPT FOR THINKING THAT I'M HOT!" The smoke sucked back into the staff and Scarecrow blinked dazedly. Yes. Jester had figured it out. And he liked it.