The handcuffs come off and the Joker rubs his wrists, gazing up at the clouds. "Now isn't that something, isn't that just lovely," he says.
"Gorgeous. Now get out, Jack, and don't come back."
"Jack, back, Jack, back," he giggles, walking towards the gate. "You think you're so funny. I'll be seeing you again, doctor, probably very soon. But don't worry about me! I'm all fixed up. Totally sane. Your treatments work miracles."
Behind him, the Joker hears the doctor mutter, "Yeah, he'll be back within the week. Batman will catch him."
"Why are we even letting him go?"
"Good money."
The Joker throws his head back and laughs at the sky.
First he goes to the hairdresser's. The doctor had given him jeans and a jacket to wear, so he looks more or less normal, but his hair needs attention. When the young lady asks, the Joker tells her to trim it just a bit and dye it yellow-green.
Ten minutes later, he's back at his old house. Quickly he changes out of the jeans and black jacket into his favorite suit – blue shirt with hexagons, green vest, purple pants and trench coat. For a while he gazes at himself in the shattered mirror, then he grabs an old Halloween makeup kit.
His skin is white enough, really, but he pales it further and blackens the skin around his eyes. Then he paints over his lips and scars with bright red.
For a moment, his fingers hover over the scars.
How did he get those?
He can't
.
quite
.
.
remember…
.
"Bit of a class clown," his teacher says. "A joker."
A joker. Always the Joker.
"Perhaps the killer thought it was a game. Sometimes people who kill don't need a reason other than that it's fun."
Nothing matters. Nothing has reason. The world is chaos and nonsense. He is chaos and nonsense. There is no meaning.
"The joker is used in a lot of different ways. A lot of times it's a wild card. Sometimes it's the card that trumps all."
The Joker trumps all.
"I don't have friends. Just an audience."
The whole world is just an audience, here to view the fun…
"You need to find someone to balance you out. That's the trick of life: balance."
What is the opposite of chaos? Peace?
Justice?
Smile.
Just smile.
He glances in the mirror and grins at his reflection. Then he tucks a gun in his inside coat pocket and walks out into the sunshine – the horrible, bright, burning sunshine. Somebody gasps when they see him. The Joker chuckles under his breath and pulls his gun out of his pocket. When the people nearby see it, they scream and panic. His gaze fixes on one young lady who he seems to recognize, but can't quite place.
He doesn't like her. He remembers that.
He shoots her.
He shoots the man next to her.
He shoots the guy at the grill across the street.
As he aims at another person, he pulls Joker playing cards out of his pocket and scatters them over the street. The whole world will know him. They will fear him because people are afraid of everything. And he will laugh at them.