I am finally a graduate!
Joker: Well, it's about time you did!
Shut up.
Sorry for the delay, guys. I've been busy with senior related stuff and now I'm back at the park working full time once again.
Joker: Ah, the good ol' days…scrubbin' toilets…slipping on slick floors…late night partying…code br-
Only twice did I have to scrub toilets down. And don't you dare mention our "code" system. You'll gross them out.
Joker: That was the whole point. He he.
*Sigh*
Here you go…
Chapter VIII
The seconds past, turning into minutes, then into hours. I swear my mind was falling asleep on me whenever I mentally tried to keep my focus straight on the problem I was dealing with at the time. Here I was, strapped to a desk leg with duct tape, out of ideas.
If only I had the ability to mentally do stuff with my mind — like lifting an object with the usage of my eyes — I would have been out of this mess. I sighed, realizing there was no way I would ever have that ability. Damn it reality world!
My wrists started to sweat from where The Joker strapped me. The duct tape slid each time my sweaty wrists moved. Still blindfolded, I couldn't tell whether it was morning or night; I could hardly see through the blindfold to actually make out a shadow or a hint of light. There was nothing I could do to predict the time of day, which was why I lost count at one point when my mental clock stopped on me the moment The Joker tied me up to his desk.
I even come to wonder why in the would would he strapped me to his desk rather than some poll which would have been much of a challenge to break free; hell, if I had the mobility to lift the desk with my back, I would have been able to slide my hands out.
An idea came to mind when my hands relaxed. With my back right up against the desk I adjusted my knees to buckle in position, both feet planted firmly on the floor, I gave the desk a good shove with my upper back pushing against the drawers. The desk moved a slim inch, but not enough to slide my hands out.
Damn it! Did he nail the desk to the floor or something?
I sighed, anguish filled my lungs.
I can't believe this is happening. I mused.
I should have had that drink The Joker offered me. I was pissed.
Just then, I felt a hand grab my wrist and placed a sharp object in between the duct tape to tear it open carefully. My hands were free within seconds. My blindfold was being tugged at by the same pair of hands that had released my hands from their chains. It slid off, revealing The Joker crouched down on his knees. His finger pinched on the end of the duct tape sticking out from my mouth, and ripped it off. Ow.
I brought my hand up to my mouth to rub away the ripping pain.
"We're playing poker with the new guys and thought it'd be nice to invite you as our guest of honor." He hinted a smile at the end.
I scrutinized at him. "You really think of me as your guest of honor."
"You're no better than me."
I sighed. "Fine."
He wrapped his hands on my arm, his eyes dancing all over the upper half of my body, and with one try he pulled me up.
"Can I be honest about something?" He asked.
"What then?"
"For a girl who lives in a Southern Bell type of family, your father actually approves you showing cleavage?"
Again, I scrutinized at him for a second, wondering, until I realized for a second he was talking about my shirt. I looked down to see that the v-neck was showing a lot more than it did before. Now I was starting to understand why he was looking at me strangely, as though he were admiring the view of my cleavage.
I pinched the upper half of my shirt and lifted it slightly to fix the problem, until The Joker's hands flashed out and clamped onto my wrists.
"No need to fix it — I actually admire the view."
See?
Again, he was not actually looking at me and instead was keeping his eyes on my chest. I saw his eyes pin pointed on the spot.
"Eyes up here buddy." I warned him.
He didn't let go of my wrists when he turned his head away from my cleavage ; he held onto them as he dragged me out of the room and back into the hallway where it lead to the same area where the door to freedom was. Instead of going down that hallway, he brought me into a different room right across from the living room; it was some sort of dining room with a kitchen in the corner. It wasn't as messy as I imagined, although there were a few empty beer bottle sitting on the carpet floor besides the dining room table. There were four men seated at the table, each with a glass in their hands, talking and smoking amongst each other, when we entered they turned n their seats and grinned when they saw me.
"This is the commissioner's daughter?" One of the guys asked, a man roughly in his thirties with a goatee and slick black hair. He looked Hispanic, but it's quite hard to tell.
The Joker stopped in his tracks and glanced over at the guy and back at me. "Isn't it quite obvious?" He teased. He gripped my chin with his hand. "She's got the Gordon genes all right."
He let go, and pushed my elbow to make me move. A guy not far from me pulled out a chair beside him and offered me a seat — turns out to be Andrew, who was just about the deal cards when The Joker interrupted him.
"I've got an idea, Andrew."
"Tell me then."
"To make things…different around here…let's go for strip poker."
My eyes broadened.
FFFUUUCCCKKK!
"Are you serious, J?" Andrew questioned his unusual idea, knowing that most of the guys already had one item of clothing on the — pants and boxers for instance — and that if they lost about half of the men would be bare right in the middle of the game. To add on, knowing how guys are, there was only one female in the room, meaning the guys would care less about the game and pay more attention to Barbara's body.
I could tell in Andrews face he wasn't too keen on the idea, but he had to somehow agree with him if he wanted to live. I was grinding on my teeth as The Joker sat down next to me, smacking his lips at me.
"I think it'd be fun." He suggested, winking at me.
I groaned, and rested my head on my hand.
I better win most of the bets.
Andrew dealt the cards out, and once he finished I picked up my set of cards and examined them. A few of the cards were in an order from five to nine (which would be a straight,) just the only thing missing from my hand was an eight. Once everyone else examined their deck, cards flew into the center where a deck of cards were. They picked up whatever number they needed and added to their deck. I tossed my useless card and picked up one.
I grunted when the card faced me. It was a six.
"Who's in?" Andrew asked everyone, his index finger circling the poker chip on front of him.
Jacob shook his head. "I'm out." He placed his cards on the table and pushed them aside. Another guy agreed, and threw his cards aside.
I shook my head. "I'm out too."
Andrew looked back at his cards again and looked at The Joker. "J, twelve hundred on the table. You in?"
"Does it look like I'm not?" He grinned, and shoved a sixth of his poker chips into the middle with Andrew's pile.
"I'm going for two thousand." A guy said, dropping his poker chips on the table.
"Twenty five hundred." The Joker added, throwing in a few more chips.
Andrew frowned. "Damn, I don't think my hands worth that much."
"You better start unbuttoning your shirt then." The guy said, chuckling with The Joker. He stiffened and said, "Hands down. Flush — all hearts."
"See? Told you my hand was worthless." Andrew threw his cards down; he had a straight, but it wasn't enough for him to win the bet.
The Joker's grin grew as he slowly placed his cards down on the table. He had a straight too. "Let's start stripping for Richard, Andrew." He laughed. His fingers went for his vest and he unbuttoned it from top to bottom. He threw it aside and waited for Andrew to finish unbuttoning his shirt.
Richard started laughing as Andrew threw his shirt at him. "Give me the manola!" He slid the poker chips in his direction.
Andrew passed out the next rounds of cards, and I picked them up to examine them — there was a smile in my mind when my hands were a four of a kind.
"Anyone for this round?" Richard asked.
Andrew nodded. "Nope. I'm out." Two more guys threw their cards down in agreement.
I gazed up at Richard, who made a smacking noise in his mouth. "Not too sure about this round…"
I peaked at my cards for a second and with fingers on the poker chips I prayed in my head The Joker wouldn't have any good cards in this round.
"Babsy," I heard him say while I was in deep thought. I turned my head to face him; he looked rather pleased. "I'm putting down three thousand — you in for the bet?"
I sighed. "All right then." I pushed my poker chips into the pile with The Joker's; something tells me I'm in deep trouble with this bet I was making. I placed my cards down gently on the table.
The Joker grinned. "You've got a great set there."
Okay…
"Thanks?" I wondered.
"No, no, I didn't mean the cards…" He laid his deck flat on the table.
Oh, you have got to be kidding me! He actually won?
I groaned inside my mind as my hands went for my pants, that is until The Joker interrupted my thoughts and with the flick of his knife he grabbed onto my shirt from the collar and tore it right down the middle. My chest was completely exposed to these morons. I felt my face start to heat up — either I was blushing due to embarrassment, or my face was as red as a tomato because I was pissed off.
"What the hell?" I yelled, covering my chest. Luckily I wore a bra underneath, but God knows if that will be torn off by him eventually.
He chuckled under his breath as he tossed the old shirt away.
"You were going too slow for me."
Three rounds later, half of the guys — excluding The Joker — were almost bare naked; as for me I had pants and a bra on still, and I prayed for the entire time that I wouldn't lose any more bets. I did win one round eventually, and The Joker didn't seem to be happy about it.
When the seventh round arrived, Andrew and Richard were the only two guys let who hadn't forfeited from the game. Well, The Joker of course wanted them to give up at some point, but they were keeping up with his game as well as I was. I forfeited from this round due to bad cards, leaving Richard and The Joker left for their bet. Sadly, Richard lost, meaning his boxers had to be ripped off, leaving him bare naked in front of everyone. Richard stood up and let the table before he could take off his boxers to show the world his privates.
Andrew tossed his cards in and forfeited the game. "I'm done here." He stood up and walked with Richard to the longue where he and his pals drank and mingled.
I was the final one standing in The Joker's sick game.
"Looks like it's only you and me, Babsy." He joked.
"It's Barbara." I reminded him.
"I still like Babsy." He said, shuffling the deck of cards in his hand. He licked his lips as he continued to shuffle the deck. "Did you know when you shuffle a deck of cards so many times the order is random?"
He handed me a few cards and picked up his own to examine them. I stared at mine and answered his question.
"Do you think I'm dumb enough not to know that?"
"It was just a question out of curiosity." He picked a card out from the pile and looked at me. "It's like how life is random. You shuffle things in life and random things pop up in the end, like these cards predict things to happen in the future."
I reached over to pick up a card when The Joker's hand flashed out and caught my wrist. "This for instance — did you expect to meet me in person? Did you expect all of this to happen in so little time?"
I shook my head. "No. I wasn't."
His head tiled to the side like a puppy's head would when they wanted something from their owner. As if he thought I was lying.
"That's the truth and the whole truth." I said.
I felt his hand let go and I managed to pick up my card and add it to my deck. It was a good card, making my deck four of a kind. I pushed in my poker chips towards the middle. "Two thousand."
The Joker grinned. "I'm in."
Finally, we placed both of our decks down — the results were appalling. We both had four of a kind, only his were a higher number than mine. I felt my insides turn inside out.
"I'm doing the pants this time." I told him flat out before he could say a thing about taking my bra off for me. I unbuttoned the pants, unzipped the zipper, and then slid my pants off carefully. The landed on the floor after I managed to get both of my feet out of the leggings of the pants, and as I went to sit down The Joker grabbed my left thigh and turned it towards him.
He was laughing hysterically. "When did you get that tattoo?"
I felt myself blushing this time. I had forgotten that I have had that tattoo for a long time, especially since I never pay attention to it and its fine details.
"Freshman year."
"This must have been the result of your drinking problem."
I groaned. "I much rather not be reminded of that."
I bent my torso to the side to get a better view of that tattoo; it was a picture of a bright orange tiger with emerald green eyes that can easily be spot out from far away. It was Jess who suggested to me I'd get a tattoo of a tiger since I have the ferocity of one — in terms of my defense skills, I'm not really ferocious as a person overall. Hey, I didn't mind getting one — I was drunk, I didn't care. Now that my drinking days were over, I started to care. I didn't want to think that tattoo ever existed, nor did I want my father to know I got one in college. And worst of all, I didn't want The Joker to see it and think I'm as crazy as he is.
He petted the tiger at though it was precious like diamonds.
"I like it a lot." He mumbled.
I couldn't believe I have gotten myself in this situation already.
"God, I really need a drink." I grumbled.
Suddenly, The Joker reached behind him and produced a liquor bottle in his hands. "Help yourself."
There was a glass cup on the table already, so I picked it up and took the bottle from him, and poured the liquid into the cup. I gulped in down in seconds as though it were a shot glass and slammed it on the table after I finished. I guess I'm back to the drinking era once more…
"You look rather pissed."
"Duh." I slurred, and poured more liquor into my cup. "I didn't want you to see it — oh, and I didn't want you to see all of this." I circled my image with my hand.
"Don't be embarrassed — I've seen worse."
"You're just saying that—"
"No. I'm no-t."
Again, I tipped the glass up to my lips with my head held high and gulped down the liquor. "So, you're telling me you've seen a woman's body in this kind of condition before?"
"Once." He said.
"Was that you're wife?" I asked.
He went quiet for some time, pressing his thumbs together as he pondered the question thoroughly. He went with a rough, quick answer. "Yes."
It made me wonder even more if The Joker had a pleasant life before the world crashed on him. I had the guts to ask him — as if I hadn't before.
"How long were you married to her?"
"Why do you want to know these things?"
"I'm just curious."
He inclined into the table and put his elbow on the table. His hands were cupped into a ball. "Five years."
Wow. Five years — that's short.
"What happened to her?"
"You know, this is the reason why I hate the past as much as you do." He pushed himself away from the table and leaned back in his chair.
"I'm…sorry." I said, emotionless in my tone.
His head tilted down as he glanced over at me. "One thing I leaned over the years is that you should never be sorry for your own questioning. In fact, you shouldn't be sorry overall."
"Why do you say that?"
"Apologies to me…are useless. People don't mean then like they do. They say it to make you feel better when for a fact it's all a façade."
Honestly, I never really thought of apologies that way. His meaning made sense: people's apologies these days aren't as truthful as they seem. It's like he said — it's all a bunch of scum. It is the exact reason why many of us can't trust one another.
Maybe The Joker see's it the same way as I do. Trust can be lacking, the truth is nothing but a joke to most people.
The vein in my forehead started to pound underneath the thin layer of skin, causing my pain for me to place my fingers on the targeted spot to stop the upcoming headache. I groaned for a second, the tip of the liquor bottle up against my pale lips. "I'm getting a headache already…"
I heard The Joker reach into one of his pockets and something landing on the table. A pair of two white tablets rolled in front of my grunting face.
"Take these." The Joker said.
I couldn't resist, due in part of the headache that would end up hurting even more if I didn't do something. My fingers extended out to pick up the pills like a metal claw in a machine that would grab a winning toy; I popped the pills into my mouth and took a huge swig from the liquor bottle. The pills by then were being swooshed around inside my bulging cheeks, and finally I gulped the liquid down, nothing was left in sight.
Something thought seemed odd about the pills, the shape maybe — God knows what would be abnormal about them. I didn't care at the moment.
My shoulders relaxed after being tensed up for the past few minutes of playing poker and interrogating The Joker as though he were a convict…which in fact he was.
He seemed to have a hint of joy in his smile when I looked up for a second after gulping the pills down, part of the contrary of his sketchy side to his personality. What seemed so odd to me at the beginning had a different outlook when this man gave me a smirk with his blood painted smile — from underneath the paint he wore on a daily basis, I started to see the true man that was hiding for so long. The Joker would never get into this much detail about his past. Hell, I learned that he had a wife for five years — that's big information for the Major Crimes Unity and the Police Department! With that kind of info you would be able to track his info down.
Why would he get this friendly with me already? Strange as he seems, he will do anything to get underneath my skin, even if that means I would have to interrogate him more if I have to as a way to get the most from him.
Again, as most come to wonder: who is he? Who is The Joker?
I began to notice that my eyes were dropping — quite an unusual side effect.
"I call it even for tonight." He murmured, tossing his cars into the uneven pile in front of him.
I nodded slightly, although my nodding seemed to be a bit weak.
"Same here."
Actually, Babs, he won this game. My mind told me. You in a bra and underwear — it does not make it a tie.
Whatever.
I reached down to pick up my pants, and stood up to put them on; it was quite difficult putting them on for once. Whenever I tried to shove a foot into one of the pant leggings I'd tumble over and fall into the chair next to me. The Joker watched me as he fixed his tie, chuckling under his breath.
"Having a little trouble there?" He asked.
I looked up at him with a baffled looked on his face.
"I never thought putting pants on would be this difficult."
"It ain't when taking them off." He chuckled at the last working, making my cringe.
I wondered why I was having so much trouble, until a light bulb flicked on inside my head. The pills. There was something strange about them — they weren't ibuprofen for sure.
I quickly sat down before something would happen, .placing my elbows on the table
"What the hell did you give me?"
"I figured you needed something to relax you since you're always so tensed up."
I scrutinized at him. "You drugged my drink too, didn't you?"
He had a hard laugh come out as though he were amused. "You should know, Babs, that you shouldn't take pills with alcohol. They say it really…"
I could not believe it.
"You fucking' bast-"
And that was it. My mind told me I was out cold. And I was out cold so fast I couldn't finish the rest of my sentence. My head fell into my folded arms.
I could hear The Joker finish up his sentence as my consciousness faded out.
"…messes you up."
Joker: Geez, Babs, I think you've had too many to drink in your days.
Babs: The reason to my addiction is because I'm trying to get you out of my head.
Joker: You really need therapy.
Me: *facepalm*
Review! XOXO
