Title: DC II Da Crowbar!

...

"You know, there's a twisted irony to all of this, me killing a Joker that is." I idly stated, walking through the figurative madhouse's gates. On the other side of the large hall, currently nursing a headache of sorts was a lone supervillain, his trashed surroundings either caused by him, or the latest grunt to finally blow a fuse and torch the criminal mastermind's lair.

My words seemed to grab the pale, purple wearing manifestation of everything that could possibly go wrong with the human psyche's attention.

"Irony? Is it Tuesday already?" The Joker drawled, completely ignoring the second part of my sentence. I idly watched the man raise himself up off of his twisted, clown-faced throne. "I don't remember ordering up a lamb for slaughter."

I shrugged at the bemusement that currently filled the lunatics face, my hand idly swinging the crowbar I'd brought with me.

"Well, you know what they say," I added on, taking a few steps closer. The Joker in question merely raising an eyebrow as he fully took in my face. "Dipping yourself in acid gives you a running start to dementia."

"...Nobody says that." The Joker drawled, a wicked-looking grin filling his face as the man's hand wandered to the large cylindrical box beside him. "But there's a first time for everything!" He added on, Mark-Hamil's laughter following his echoed words.

I snorted in response, the fan-boy in me almost causing me to back-track on my path. Mark Hamil seemed to just have that effect on people. My reaction admittedly gave him pause enough to stop laughing as he once again peered closely at my face. A twisted sort of light filling his eyes as his gaze bored into mine.

"I remember every face... Can't say I recognize yours. But I absolutely adore that look in your eyes!" The man promptly shrugged. "So, what punchline are you here to avenge?"

"Before I start swinging," The man snorted at my words, his chuckle evidently hard to hold back; presuming he even tried. "You ever wonder why Batman doesn't kill you? Scratch that. You ever wonder why no one sane's tried to kill you?"

"...Do I look like the type of guy to wonder? I am a practical sort of guy. If someone doesn't have the nerve to do it, more punchlines for me!" The man grinned, his rotten yellow teeth blaring as he seemingly brought a bat bigger than his waist out from behind him. Before immediately swinging said bat on top of the closed canister, scattering whatever lock he'd had in place as a veritable sea of acid poured out towards me.

I idly covered the lower half of my body in Haki, enjoying the shock and wary expression that filtered over the clown-prince of crime.

"Oh bother, do I need to get a green rock for you too?" The Joker questioned, idly taking a few steps back, his expression lasting for but a moment as more laughter started echoing out.

He looked like someone would after Santa Clause had finally gotten him the gift they'd been waiting for.

Still, regardless of my feelings on the matter, a small part of me got it.

Why the Justice League, Gotham's system, and every delusion git had refused to pull the pin on the lunatic before me.

Joker was, less of a criminal in the eyes of Gotham, and more of a placeholder. Much like ninety percent of Batman's rogue gallery.

Sure, killing him would temporarily rid the city of its greatest criminal; but the vacuum that it resulted in almost always guaranteed someone would take his place. More often than not, that someone tended to be worse.

Most of the time it was the clown prince himself coming back, albeit either more unstable or somehow, more unpredictable.

But that wasn't what everyone else was worried about.

One could, if they wanted, spend an entire lifetime immediately dealing with any such rise.

It was the in-between most were worried about.

Gotham, in itself, was safer when carved out between a set number of lunatics as opposed to being a genuine free-for-all.

One Joker, could probably kill a thousand people on a good day before he got his shit kicked in.

An uncontrolled territory, filled with Gotham's criminal goons, could probably kill half that number-

Only not every one of them would immediately get caught, simply due to logistics.

There was only one Batman, one Police precinct (Presumably, I didn't exactly look for a map when I'd arrived. Well, besides the one that led me here anyway), and the best way for them to control the crime rate in Gotham was to make sure there was only one Joker that they needed to deal with.

Arrest him? His empire of crime pauses.

Kill him? Someone replaces him, with another throwing out a rebellion because they don't wanna follow said replacement.

Tl;dr

Cut off one head, and two shall take its place.

I however was of the firm belief that, between the two options. I'd rather deal with the one that's less likely to succeed.

A thousand criminals running around Gotham, for the most part, had fifty-fifty odds of succeeding in whatever crime they felt justified them going to jail.

Joker had a one hundred percent success rate when it came to mass-murder.

Not every criminal goon had aspirations of killing for shits and giggles, but he most definitely did.

Sure, the likely criminal riots and whatnot would probably be a problem, but I frankly had full confidence in Jim Gordon dealing with most of them.

He might not stop all of them, but frankly, any success was better than the, understatement in truth, pyrrhic victory Joker always guaranteed.

It was frankly in his brand name.

I idly flash-stepped behind the crazed lunatic.

"Death, quite frankly, does not send her regards."

And promptly started swinging.

It took Batman (And a very fresh-faced Boy Wonder), to my own surprise, a minute before he tracked me down. As unfortunate as it was.

I didn't particularly want the Justice League to come after me yet, which was the only reason I stopped using the super-power lottery I'd started with.

Effectively going civilian.

My only regret was that the Joker's laughter seemed to escalate when he noticed that very fact, his gaze taking me in an entirely new light.

I'd figured I could take him out once Batman was no longer in sight.

Unfortunately, either the clown-prince knew that, or some psycho obsessed deity wanted the mad man kept alive; given that the Joker had practically disappeared off the face of the earth following that particular night. His echoing laughter the only thing convincing me he was going to show up again.

The postcard he sent me for my first night in Arkham, may have had something to do with that last part as well.

...