Author's Note: This Chapter is dedicated to to Baka Gaijin 30 without whose help I would have ended up institutionalized...who would have kown that posting chapters could be so difficult. Thanks a lot pal, I owe your one :)

Disclaimer1: Batman and all related characters belong to DC COMICS.

Disclaimer2: Some scenes contain MATURE language and situations. Reader discretion is adviced. Some scenes might not be suitable for very young children.

Another Chapter...for your enjoyment. Please keep your feedback coming, it is really appreciated!!!

CHAPTER 14: THE GREATEST PERFORMANCE

"YOU ARE GOING TO DO WHAT???" Michael yelled shaking his head and waving his hand in disbelief.

"No sense of adventure, Blip?" said Joker giggling softly as he applied flesh color enamel over his green nails. His hands, now a soft cream color, was starting to show a hint of human warmth. His hair was no longer green and his face though still paler than normal, did not show that pronounced smile anymore.

"You're crazy! After all I went through to keep you safe after your escape? And we just did Wayne Tech…you know how many people are looking for you?" Blip's glasses glinted against the light of the small chandelier in the Joker's office. His rounded face turning an intense hue of red.

"You need the codes, don't you my boy? Then let me do this my way, and you'll have what you need tonight and tomorrow we can all play." Joker smiled wildly as he looked at Michael's face about to explode like a hand held grenade. Michael looked hilarious when he was angry, like a huge spectacled tomato. Joker could not help to laugh.

"Yeah, but there has to be another way of getting them. We should be keeping a low profile, especially after the job at Wayne Tech. Have you forgotten about the bat? He has to be after your trail now."

"No, I have not forgotten my loyal friend I can assure you he's not expecting my next move. Besides, I'll be back before lunch. I promise. Just be good and keep an eye on my things while I'm gone, would you?"

"Oh no. You are not doing this; you are not doing this to me. Boss reconsider, pleeeease!." Joker just sat there looking at him with a wide toothy smile, his eyes narrowed almost like half asleep. Blip clenched his fists and turned around leaving the office cursing and ranting. Joker could still hear him talking from the common room. Michael walked over to Charley, who sat on the green sofa, cleaning her gun. 'Mountain Man' sat besides her, doing the same to his 357 magnum. Both lifted their heads and saw the puffing figure of Garibaldi in front of them, eyes gone behind the glare of the glasses, and small rivulets of sweat on his brow. "You have to stop him."

"What'cha talking about Four Eyes?" asked Jake.

"The boss is out of his mind."

"What else is new." responded Charley laughing softly. Jake smiled at her.

"I really mean it. He wants to get back into Arkham and meet the Riddler there personally."

"Whoa! Spell that again, kid?" asked Charley, her eyes glowed with interest. "Arkham, the nuthouse?"

"The boss is dressing up to go to Arkham Asylum and meet with Riddler as his new attorney. He doesn't understand how risky is trying to do this right now. They're going to get him caged there again and our plans will go down the drain."

"Are you sure about this, Blip?"

"Go and ask him if you don't believe me, bitch?" Michael roared.

"You know wha' I've told ya, girl. The boss's a nutcase, a fruitcake. T'is shouldn't surprise us, ya' know, an' I t'ing the nerdball here needs to treat us with some respect." Jake took his clean gun and aimed at Blip when Charley grabbed his gun and pushed softly down.

"You seem to forget who signs your paycheck, Jake. I'll see what's going on. In the meantime…put that thing away." Charley said pointing to Jake's gun. She turned angrily to Michael. "And Blip, I don't care if you're really close to the clown, my gun and your head need to have a chat on mutual respect …but later. So don't let me forget." Michael swallowed hard.

Charley got up, replaced her gun in her holster, pushed Michael forcefully out of her way and walked to the Joker's office. She knocked twice and without waiting for a response, entered seeing the boss wearing a white long sleeve shirt with a tie over his shoulders, a pair of blue Sponge Bob suspenders and navy blue dressy trousers. On his head he sported light brown hair, slightly peppered at the sideburns and was almost through applying flesh colored makeup over his face. Joker looked at her through the mirror.

"Dear, when someone knocks a door they should wait for an answer from the other side. It's just polite," said the clown prince nonchalantly while continued to put the makeup. "Oh well, how can we help you?"

"Blip said you…"

"I know what Blip said. I could hear him ranting from here. And the answer is the same. I'll still go." Joker responded continuing to apply the makeup.

"Do you understand what you are doing?"

He sighed and produced a soft smile. "I am going to visit a friend, who can help us with our little plans."

"You sir, are going into a lunatic asylum that has a cell with your name on it along with a file the size of a house on you and your tricks. Do you know what they're gonna to do to you when they find out you are in there?"

"I know that asylum like I know the palm of my hand. Being there, remember? And believe me…they aren't expecting me there."

"Why do you have to go at all? Can't you send someone else impersonating Riddler's attorney? Even better, why not talk to the Riddler over the phone?"

Joker bent over in front of the mirror, resting one of his hands on the small table under it. Charley could see him shaking his head slightly while his reflection looked at her with the corner of his eye.

"Been there, done that, got the T-shirt." Joker chuckled softly. "But unfortunately, Edward Nigma said that the only way he'll talk to me is if I went there and met him personally."

"A challenge, eh? So now your ego is hurt and you're trying to prove yourself." Joker pounded a fist against the table and turned around furiously, his eyes narrowed to tiny slits of darkness. Charley instinctively drew her gun and felt as the temperature in the room dropped a few degrees.

"First of all, bitch; the Joker has nothing to prove to anyone. 'Numero dos'…" The boss pointed a thumb at her. "Are you going to shoot me or what?"

The grip on her gun tightened. "Depends on you."

"Tsk, tsk, tsk. No fair, Princess. I'm unarmed." Joker said cocking his head tenderlyto the right.

"Sure, like when Jake tried to wake you?"

He motioned towards his .38J in its holster over the table and extended both arms to his sides. "Satisfied? Unless I can pop a gun from my ass, I am completely unarmed." Charley eyed him suspiciously. "But if you want to search there, be my guest." Charley couldn't hold a soft smile. Joker smiled back. Then she sheathed her gun slowly without loosing sight of the Prince of Crime. Joker turned around and grabbing some cosmetic powder started giving the final touches on his makeup.

"If you want, Boss, I can kill Riddler for you, boss. I understand you have a reputation to keep, but going back to that asylum…it's just insane." Joker eyed her through the mirror. "No pun intended."

Joker lifted three fingers in front of him in the mirror while half a smile appeared on his face. "Number three Princess. Nigma is the only one with a few pieces of information that I need so he cannot die just yet. But hold that thought a little longer because I might need your services later on." Joker started to unroll his sleeves.

"I don't understand. What does Riddler have that is so important for you to risk meeting him in Arkham of all places?

"I told you…information, pure and simple. Edward Nigma has the second best information network from inside the asylum…after mine, of course. Nothing escapes that green mean riddle machine. Brufford, his attorney, was one the best connected lawyer on both sides of the law but was not very forthcoming with the information I needed. Nigma on the other hand….might be interested in a little alliance. A pact." Joker chuckled and put on a navy blue jacket then turned around to face Charley. "Now tell me how I look? Don't be shy, you can flatter me."

Charley walked closer to him. She had not seen him in disguise since the time she met him in Brenton. That disguise was very good, and if it wouldn't have been for the trail of leads his crazy behavior was leaving behind him then, it would have been close to impossible for her to tell he was the Joker. This, well this was even better. He had changed his entire profile and structure of his face and she didn't know how but that smile was almost completely gone and the wild green eyes were now soft and light hazel. She used her hand to fix some stray hairs from his head and they felt natural, even some gray hairs were sparsely disseminated in the brown mane making the look very convincing. She grabbed his hands with hers and she noticed how nice and natural they looked. His nails, now a soft rosy color and his skin with a soft creamy flesh color felt very soft and smooth. She looked at his face again. A small hint of a smile was visible. She smiled back; this was a brilliant disguise.

"Are you sure, this is a safe thing to do…and the only way?"

"Oh…and for the coup-de-grace…" Joker lifted a warning finger and put a pair of glasses on. His eyes distorted slightly under the play of shadow and glare. "If I didn't know I am me, I would believe I'm someone else and I would not have this conversation because I would not be here, but tanning in the white beaches of Tahiti. But I'm here since I'm saying where I am, which means I'm not in Tahiti, so by deductive reasoning I should be me…Capice?" Joker cocked an eyebrow and smiled. "Now explain that to me… because I'm lost."

"What if your plan backfires and you're locked up again?"

"Hope you do a better job than Phil did." Joker's little smile turned sinister. "But tell me, how I look?"

"I have to say, incredible. It's amazing what you can do with makeup…just hope that you can behave as a lawyer, because last time it didn't take me long to figure out it was you."

"I'm a master of disguise, and don't worry about my behavior…I've read some law books while I was vacationing at Arkham so I know the craft. Just one thing," said Joker handing her the blue tie and looking at her tenderly. "I can do a bowtie but these give me the hardest times. Can you help me?"

"You're incorrigible…" Charley smiled and threw the tie around Joker's neck starting to work on the knot. "You know, your plan to confuse the police is working perfectly, especially after that ploy of having another murderer taking blame for Trenton's death. They probably don't know what to think of those crimes anymore."

"What plan? What are you talking about? Those murders were all mine." Joker sounded very angry and disappointed. "I even signed them both."

"Didn't you read the newspaper?" Joker just stared at her. Charley walked over to the Joker's desk where he always kept the latest copy of the Gotham Gazette and showed him the front page. "Why do you buy the Gazette if you're not going to read it?"

Joker took the Gazette from her hands and looked at the front headlines with obvious disgust on his face:

DOUBLE TROUBLE: TWO MURDERERS LOOSE IN GOTHAM. CAN THE POLICE STOP THE VIOLENCE? ARE THE JOKER'S DAYS OVER?

"Preposterous!" Joker grimaced. "What's the meaning of this?"

"It gets better, keep reading." Charley said flipping the pages of the Gazette. The Boss continued reading and the more he read the angrier he looked, Charley could hear him huffing under every line he read.

"I'M NEXT??" Joker ripped the newspaper and threw the pieces violently on the floor. "Is this a joke? Who in this town is insane enough to threaten me, the Clown Prince of Crime? And who the hell dares to take credit for our murders?" He looked at Charley.

"So it wasn't you who sent the letter to the newspaper to throw 'em off your back?"

"Those are MY murders…I worked very hard for those murders, they're mine… MINE! "… Joker started to pace the room and whisper to himself. "Wait a minute; let's see the logic of this… there has to be a logical explanation…LOGIC?? SOMEONE IS TRYING TO STEAL MY WORKS OF ART AND YOU WANT ME TO USE LOGIC, JACK? Calm down… Calm down. Think… YOU'RE SO DEAD, BUDDY!"

"You OK, Boss?" Charley said timidly. The Boss was ranting violently, and worst of all, he didn't seem to notice that she was in the room anymore. Joker continued to pace the office.

"Think, Joker. Concentrate. You fooled the Bat twice… laughed in his face. The Bat is confused by your MO… remember you're letting me do this…. BUT THEY THREATENED ME!!"

"Boss?"

"Hold on…we're into something important here…So the Bat doesn't know how to get to us, because you're not using your regular MO…HE'S CONFUSED, SO? He needs to use something that will bring you and me out into the open…something to make us try something bolder…more dangerous."

"The Batman is behind this?" Charley said backing a few steps. Joker looked at her and started to giggle. "Boss, you're giving me the creeps."

"Why? Just because I talk to myself? It helps me focus…FOCUS ON ME, LADY!" Joker started to laugh, but it soon turned into a cough. "Sorry…but now I understand."

"Understand what?"

"That there is really no other murderer in town…THE HEADLINE! DID YOU READ THE FUCKING HEADLINE?" Joker rested his head in his hand. "No, no, no. It's all a ploy."

"A ploy?"

"The Bat is trying to use my ego against me. He knows me too well. He thinks we won't tolerate someone else taking credit for my murders and I will just jump into his hoop trying to prove I'm the only murderer. I'm not gonna let go my ego…at least not that easy."

"You sure about this? I mean, it sounds kind of crazy and you make it sound even crazier."

"It's supposed to sound crazy. How else do you expect to catch a homicidal maniac who loves the spotlight?" Joker smiled wide. HOPE YOU KNOW WHAT YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT. "Take spotlight away from the maniac."

"So what are you gonna do now?"

"Absolutely nothing, stick to my original plan…though I have to admit…it's gonna be hard, real hard."

"Why?"

Joker pointed a thumb at himself and busted into laughter. "Because THIS homicidal maniac REALLY loves the spotlight." Charley just forced a smile. For her, this was all still too creepy. "At least nobody can deny that I was at Wayne Tech last night."

"That one definitely belongs to you."

"Just wondered why the Batman didn't show up?" Joker fixed his jacket and reposition the glasses on his face. "That would have been the pinnacle of my criminal career…killing the bat in front of his audience."

"You really wanted the Bat to find you last night at Wayne Tech?" Charley asked going back to finish the knot on the Joker's tie.

"I trained hard...I was ready for him, but instead had to use one of my tricks on that playboy millionaire. What a waste of a good punch line. I need to get rid of the pest, so you can have a clean city, Princess."

"You're taking unnecessary risks, Joker. Blip is very concern and I have to admit…me too."

"He's such a worry worm. He's gonna get over it. You don't worry either. I can take good care of myself. In the meantime play well with the other kids, no long distance calls while I'm gone, and definitely no hanky-panky. And be careful…there's another murderer in town." Joker giggled.

"And what is that supposed to mean?"

Joker shrugged and stepped back. "Who knows? I didn't start the gossip. Just let me introduce you to…Larry Wilde, attorney at law."

oooooooooooooooooooooooo

Arkham Asylum. Security post 4

Weatherby was waiting by the door. Wilde knew the blond officer; young, tough, muscular product from the land of Jack the Ripper. "Excuse me, have we met before?" Wilde asked fixing his glasses. "No." answered the officer while he opened the door for the attorney. Warm as a glacier and friendly as a cactus, that's good ol' Weatherby. Wilde nodded entering the room and looked at the location of the security cameras. All of the tables were empty but he chose the farthest one from the door. He opened his briefcase and removed a notebook, a pen, and a yellow envelope labeled 'CONFIDENTIAL'. The noise of the door picked his attention and when he looked he saw Riddler, with shackled hands and feet and wearing the inmates orange color overalls entering the room. Wilde went back to his papers. The tall guard helped Riddler sit and fixed the shackles to a hook underneath the chair, then silently left the room. Riddler stared at Wilde as the lawyer sat in font of him.

"What are you staring at, Edward?" said Wilde putting down pen and notebook.

"Is that you Bozo? Excellent costume, I'm impressed. Now tell me a joke."

"Shush, the walls have ears."

"Here is a riddle for you, Mr. Wilde. What goes up and down put never moves."

"Eddie, not now."

"Come, on. Relax, have some fun…It's good for you. Besides that's an easy one." Edward smiled.

Wilde sighed. "Stairs."

''Play my music if your dare; turn my crank although I'm square. Stand back, or get a scare; when you see my surprising glare.'"

"I have no time for these stupid games, Eddie. In the phone you said you'll consider my offer if I came personally. Well?"

"What's wrong with you? It's a Jack-in-a-box. I told that one just for you, and you didn't even sneer. Why don't you laugh at my riddles?"

"It's a riddle, Eddie, not a joke, and they're not funny. You think we can get to business now?"

"All business and no fun, and by the way, what happened to you, Bozo? You're not funny anymore." Nigma said shifting in his chair looking away from the cameras as the chains rattled. "Maybe the world out there is turning out to be too much for you to handle, Mr. J, and a short season back in your cage will do you a world of good. What 'cha think, pal? Should I tell, Sir Weatherby, about you?" Nigma smiled perversely. "That will be the end of your visit and begin your stay..."

"Nigma, don't tempt fate, my friend." Wilde's eyes glowed with anger. Riddler backed into the chair with a complacent smile. Wilde growled. "You don't know who you're fucking with…"

"So it's true what they say. You've soured up and don't joke around no more. So sad. I think it's only up to me to provide the entertainment in this city."

"Eddie, you are a very important piece in this little puzzle I'm putting together. A very important puzzle."

Nigma's eyes sparkled, "I know I am or you wouldn't be here…but how much is this important stuff worth to you, Wilde?"

"It's all about money, isn't it?"

"Riddles are fun, Wilde, but nothing in life's free. Having you here, licking my boots for some names and addresses is just the cherry on top of my cream pie." Edward Nigma set his hand over his thighs and smiled complacently.

Wilde frowned. "How much do you want? Once I'm done, this city will be mine, anyways."

"Ours."

There was a short silence. "Ours…a real partnership, you and me, huh?" Wilde said while Nigma nodded. "Can be arranged…under certain specific clauses. You know how I feel about you."

"Me…out of here?"

Wilde smiled with glee. "By tomorrow."

Nigma eyed Joker with suspicion. "What warranties do I have that you'll keep your side of the bargain, Bozo? It's not like you are the most reliable person in the world, clown…"

"None, but at this moment if I'm willing to come here and work along with you; that should be an indication as to the lengths I will go to see my plans completed. Who is crazy enough to come back here after what I've been through...?"

"Now that you mention it…that's scary."

"Not as scary as my life lately, but anyways...you want to profit from this, Eddie? Go ahead, be my guest. I don't want the money; I just want to be remembered as the one who destroyed the Bat. Only when the Batman's dead there's gonna be absolute peace in my world, and I will be able to plan my next tour and the Clown is gonna reign supreme."

"You don't want the money? Nigma's voice denoted sincere incredulity.

"No, you can have it all."

"That's odd. Why wouldn't you want the money?"

"Because I'm interested on what the money represents and not on this actual value on the market."

"And how much money are you expecting to make out of this, Wilde?

The lawyer smiled once more. "Loads and loads of the green stuff. Six figures."

"All mine..?" Edward whispered.

"If you want it…but of course you got to help me."

"You still don't want the money..?" Nigma said as if trying to prove a point. "I don't trust you, Bozo."

"I'm a performer, Eddie. What I care is for is providing my audience with my best performance. I'm not concerned on what the box office wants to charge, as long as my audience enjoys the show. And this is going to be the greatest puzzle since the Riddle of the Sphinx. Not even that caped detective will be able to solve it. What better show than baffling the bat."

"I want the money and you want the fame…and you are really obsessed with the Big Bat." Nigma eyed Wilde with suspicion "…a riddle. Wilde…this is not gonna work. You don't do riddles."

"That's were your genius comes in."

For a short moment Edward Nigma looked down at his shacked hands and tugged at the restraints. His eyes closed as in meditation and a wide smile appeared on his face. "Think I can live with that. Fire away, clown."

oooooooooooooooooooooooo

The package had arrived at the station via special courier, and when Bullock saw that the sender name was just a large capital J on the top of the package, he knew he had to call the Caped Crusader. Not that this was something the department couldn't deal with, but Gordon had been very thorough about the way situations like this were to be handled. He had the courier under custody and had the package examined by the bomb squad, twice. When everything was safe, then the Batman was to be contacted. The package did not contain any explosives and they've already started interrogating the delivery boy. Now the only thing was to wait for the recipient of the package to finally solve the mystery of its contents. Batman entered the office.

"Is this it?" The Caped Detective asked coming closer to the small box on the desk.

"It's clean. Mr. J. appears to be thinking of you, Bats." Bullock said mockingly. Batman eyed the Lieutenant with obvious unease. Batman knew the lieutenant was an excellent cop, but could not help dislike his sense of humor. He lifted the package between his hands feeling its weight. It must not be more than two or three pounds, and nicely wrapped in brown paper. He analyzed the label. It had been typed and printed using a computer; the sender's name a single initial and in the recipient's name his own: The Caped Crusader. Above the label the words HANDLE WITH CARE were stamped in red ink. There was nothing out of the ordinary visible in the outside of the package. Batman pressed firmly the entire surface…squared shaped…a box. On the top of the package he felt something long and thin, like sting and gently shook the package paying close attention to any sound from it. He then set the package on the desk, produced a pocket knife from his utility belt, and cut the wrapping lengthwise to reveal the golden cardboard box underneath tied up with a thin purple ribbon On top of the box, were the words 'MERRY CHRISTMAS'were embossed on the surface of the cardboard and in a small corner a smiley face had been drawn. Batman had a bad feeling about this. His muscles tensed under his armored costume.

Batman cut the ribbon and lifted the lid when he heard a soft cracking noise from inside. He stopped moving, as if expecting something more from the package…electroshock…smoke…maybe the bomb squad missed something... He lifted the lid very slightly until he had opened the box. Inside the box laid a neatly bundled red shirt with a black R embroidered over the left shoulder, a pair or green shorts and a yellow cape. They were all covered with spots of a dark red dye. He looked inside the lid and saw a small broken glass container that still dripped the same red dye. Batman lifted the garments from the box and upon examination he confirmed that they were large enough to fit a teenager and the red blotches looked like blood stains. The clothing wrinkled in his tight fist. He looked inside the box once again, and was disappointed to find out it was empty except for a small black mask in the bottom.

"Was there a note with the package?" The Bat growled

"No, when it arrived…"

"Where's the courier." Batman interrupted while trying to remain calm.

"We are interrogating him now."

Batman tossed the garments into the box and stormed out of the office taking the package with him. He did not need to ask Bullock were the he was interrogating the courier since he knew that station like the back of his hand. Bullock and a few officers, left the office behind him and tried to keep up, but it was as if they were trying to keep up with a black tornado. The cops almost didn't make it to the elevator with him. Batman did not care; he couldn't get his mind of the package and the memories that it brought back. He didn't need anybody to tell him who sent the package. There was only one person in this town that would revel on reminding him his impotency in saving Jason Todd's life. The very same clown that took the young ward's life. Why was the Joker so obsessed in hurting him? He never understood it, but this psychotic clown had a perverse obsession destroying everything around the Bat, spreading his filth, like a disease, polluting everything that was good and pure. The Joker had also a perverse pleasure of reminding him of the chaos he had brought the Bat over the years. Nothing mattered now… he had to focus…he had a mission to get some answers by any means necessary.

The elevator finally stopped, after what it looked like hours when it hadn't been more than a minute, and they all exited walking briskly to the interrogation ward. Batman was advancing in long fast strides, while Bullock and a group of cops were trying to catch up with him. Without any greetings, Batman entered the interrogation department and advanced to the last room where two officers were questioning a young dark haired man in his late twenties, dressed up in jeans, and a striped shirt with no sleeves. The man looked very nervous and was smoking a cigarette in large puffs, obviously for some time, for the ashtray by him was filled with cigarette butts, and upon seeing the dark figure entering the office the cigarette in his han started to shake perceptively. When the man saw the cowled man was heading towards him, the color on his face disappeared and he started shaking his right leg anxiously. He tapped the cigarette in the astray beside him and straightened in his chair when the Batman threw the box on the table and grabbed him by his shirt lifting him a few inches from the floor.

"Where is he?" Batman roared angrily.

"Hey man, I don't know what'cha talking about. Put me down."

"I'm not asking again, where's the Joker?" Batman said as he was approached by several officers that tried to undo his grip on the courier. It would have been easier to move a mountain than to separate the two men from each other.

"Batman, let 'im go. He really doesn't know a thing." finally one of the officers said. "A third party set the delivery and paid him very well for the shipment if he didn't ask questions. He's just a delivery boy."

"No, not again." Batman roared as he put the man down in the floor but without letting go. The man's eyes looked like they were about to pop out of their orbits, seeing the towering figure of the Batman in front of him. " I don't believe it…He has to go through a polygraph test to confirm his story. Joker is playing a deadly game, and I want to know why…WHY!" The courier had started to pant heavily, and the color of his skin had started to show a yellow hue. His eyes rolled back and he went limp on Batman's grip. The Dark Detective, obviously startled by the sudden symptoms, lowered the man to the floor where he stayed unmoving.

"An ambulance quickly!" one of the officers yelled, causing a fast exchange of cops in and out of the room. Batman pressed his fingers against the courier's neck.

"Too late, he's dead." Batman said softly.

"What did you do to him…scared him to death? Bullock asked kneeling beside the Dark Detective.

"This has nothing to do with me, Lieutenant. This is all Joker's doing, and he's making me loose my patientce..." Batman rose and kicked the table with so much force that it hit the wall in the other end of the room. The ashtray and the box fell to the floor loudly and he slammed his fist on the wall. "Round two for you, Joker."

oooooooooooooooooooooooo

"In writing? You never stop amazing me, you know? But if you want it in black and white…" said Riddler with a smile as Weatherby, after examining every inch of the roller pen, handed it to him.

"My memory is not what it used to be, Mr. Nigma." Wilde said glancing over the documents he had handed Riddler on the table.

Nigma snorted and sifted through the bundle of papers on the table the best he could and he found the pages to fill. He started to write but no ink came out. Nigma shook the pen several timesand retried without success and, finally moistened the tip with his tongue trying to write one more time to no avail. He looked at Wilde who was fumbling in the pockets of his suit. "Is this one of your jokes? Because this one is not funny."

"Sorry for that. Here." said the lawyer as he offered Weatherby a new pen. After the same extensive examination he passed it to the Riddler. Nigma scribbled a few names, addresses and then pushed the papers and the pen back. Joker picked up both pens and replaced them in his suit and, after picking up the papers that he neatly bundled together, he placed them in his suitcase. "I think that concludes our meeting, Mr. Nigma. Thanks for your cooperation."

"You have not heard my best riddle yet, Wilde, but sure, whatever. I can get it to you later…Tell Brufford that I hope he recovers soon. I like 'im better than I like you." Nigma started to play absentmindedly with the desk's edge. "By the way, that clown chick…what's her name…the Mime, no, Harley. Did you know she's been having lengthy sessions with a certain caped detective…?"

"Say what??" Wilde's hazel eyes opened wide with surprise. Nigma's smile widened.

"Don't know what she's up to, but I think she's gonna need a lawyer soon. Maybe I could put a good word about you with her…or maybe you just don't care anymore. I wonder if being left abandoned on a cell is the reason why she talks to the rats now."

Wilde stared at Nigma momentarily, his eyes glowing with resentment. Weatherby was still standing by the table, between them, and he must have noticed the drop in temperature between the two, for the impassive officer could not hold a shudder. With a snort, Wilde closed his suitcase forcibly and headed for the door. He could hear the Riddler laughing very loud behind him. Nigma really knew how to spoil an otherwise good mood. HELLOOO, CAN YOU GO BACK THERE AND JUST ICE THE RIDDLER NOW? HE'S LAUGHING AT US. Weatherby was close behind him and almost did not make it in time to open the door. There, against the wall was the guard that had brought the Riddler to the room. He exchanged glances quickly with him and then started to walk to the security post. In the post, Reynolds scanned him again and sifted through the contents the envelope. Joker wanted to remain calm, but he had the need to leave that hospital as soon as he could. HARLEY AND THE FLYING RAT! WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT OF THAT, THE LITTLE BITCH…He was not feeling well. His heart was racing, and he could feel his blood pressure starting to get high enough to start a pounding on his temples by the time he has passed the third security post. WHAT THE FUCK DOES SHE WANT TO DO…HAVE US ARRESTED? WHAT HAS SHE TOLD THE BAT? He did not say a word during the whole process, a lump had settled in his throat making him very difficult to utter a single word and his brain was far away, in another plane replaying in his mind what he thought would those encounters between the Batman and his Harley would have sounded like. NIGMA, YOU FUCKING SON OF A BITCH, IF THIS IS ONE OF YOUR LIES…I'M GONNA DO ONE OF MY PERFORMANCES ON YOU! Finally he reached the last post as his stomach started to turn and make him queasy. He was slowly loosing control. SEE, JACK. HOLDING BACK IS NOT GOING TO DO YOU ANY GOOD. LET ME OUT, I'LL DEAL WITH THEM. The thoughts in his mind were coming and going at the speed of sound, and Joker felt like he needed to run over someone as he got into his car. THIS IS NOT FUNNY. BUT IF YOU WANT, I CAN MAKE IT FUNNY, I LIKE FUNNY. LET US FIND SOMEONE TO KILL. JUST RIDE OVER A SCHOOL BOY, OR THE LADY IN THE WHEELCHAIR. I KNOW, LET'S RUN OVER SOME NUNS. LET IT OUT, JACK...LET ME OUT! The engine roared to life and he sped away, grasping the steering will with enough pressure to make it creak under his grip. Once in the highway, he was finally able to spit one word that sounded more like a growl. "HAAARLLEEYYY!!!"