Murder at Arkham

"Insanity is like gravity, all you need is a little push."

===WHOO HOO ONE===

"The prisoner has been secured in his cell. Would you like to speak with him now or..."

Strange closed the thick file. "Patient, if you don't mind. Prisoner has a negative connotation. Wouldn't you agree?"

Mills swallowed hard. His mouth has gone dry. There was just something about the new Arkham administrator that made him sweat. It was the same sensation he got when he was in the maximum-security wing, like he was... prey. Before he could answer, Strange continued.

"And no, I won't be speaking with him, just yet. I'm going to assign him two primary physicians and two backups. They can report directly to me. Of course, I'll want everything on video for assessment."

"You don't want to take his case personally, Doctor Strange?" the young doctor managed to ask. This was, after all, the Joker they were talking about.

"At this point, I think, I can learn more about the patient from observing, not interacting," the pudgy man steepled his fingers.

Who was he to question another psychiatrist's methods? "I see."

"No, you don't. You think I should jump on the chance to engage someone like the Joker. But if you have seen his file, you know that in the past, his doctors haven't fared very well. I would rather study him than have him study me. That way, when we do meet, I might actually have a chance to affect some change in him."

That made sense. Mills nodded like a bobble-head doll. "I'll make sure all the new rules you implemented concerning his treatment are being followed."

"Very good, thank you, Mills. You may go," he dismissed with a wave of his hand.

Strange sat tapping the folder with his fingers, watching as another lackey scrambled to follow his new edicts. He mused, "All this information on you and it tells me nothing. Conflicting garbage, most likely self-orchestrated for your own amusement. But I will find out what I want to know, Joker. Because you will tell me, one way or the other."

He smiled.

===WHOO HOO ===

"I'm Doctor Mills." The young doctor shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

Joker sat with his head down, slightly hunched forward, the straight jacket snug around his chest. He was not in a good mood. It was just insulting. He'd had, what seemed like, every doctor in Arkham coming around to "treat" him yet the head cheese had yet to make an appearance. What was he, chopped liver? No, but this doctor could easily become pate. Joker giggled, "Head cheese."

His latest doctor looked at him askew. "Uh, I'd like this to just be a get-to-know you kind of meeting. No pressure." He offered a slightly pained smile.

Joker raised his eyebrows.

Mills continued undeterred, "Therapy doesn't have to be an unpleasant experience. Through mutual-cooperation, we can help you understand why you do the things you do and guide you to a more productive life."

That was the most ridiculous statement he'd ever heard. WTF, was this guy for real? He was the only one that got to make jokes around here!

What was he missing? A small smile graced the Joker's face as a little light bulb went off in his mind. This ass had been purposely sent to annoy him. In fact, all of the staff that had been sent to talk to him over the last few weeks had been rubes for someone else to gauge his reactions. He was being studied. But none of these assholes were bright enough to think it up on their own.

He glanced up at the camera that was mounted in the corner of the interrogation room. They had a puppet-master and Arkham had a new administrator. Co-incidence? Unlikely. The man hadn't made a personal appearance yet, but he was already playing doctor. Naughty.

"I really think we should start by updating a few of these medical tests." Mills started shuffling the papers in front of him. Anything to not have to stare into those fathomless eyes. "It's been three years since the state first committed you, but you've been in and out of the clinical situation since then. Things may have changed for you, medically."

The Joker cocked his head. Things could change for you, medically, he thought. "Yeah, I'm not interr..ested in more tests. I've been tested to death. I can't be explained by any machines. And if you haven't figurred that out by now, that's your problem."

Mills shuffled more papers. "I really do think we need to get another complete brain scan. It will help to rule out any organic problems." He held up an image of a brain, "Huh, the last one didn't show anything abnormal. Considering your behavior, that's... interesting."

"Don't you mean, unlikely?" Joker quipped. "Let me... let me, put it to you this way, Doc," the bound man leaned over the table. "If you, um, make me do... something... that I don't want to do, then I'll, uh, do something that you don't want me to do," Joker licked his lips.

Mills froze. That sounded very much like a threat. He turned to the guard at the door who had his hand now placed at his belt. Violence didn't deter the Joker at all. If he wasn't careful, he could end up in a very bad situation, very quickly. "I would rather we not have to force you, Joker. It would be much easier if you co-operate. This really is for your benefit. We're only trying to help you."

Joker shrugged. "Whatever you say, Doc, just remember what I said. Each time I have to do something I don't want to do... that counts one against you." he lowered his head, "It might be a family member or a friend or neighbor or hell even the neighbor's dog. But they pay for my displeasurre.. One by one. Until, I get around... to you. I have a very llongg memory."

"Ok, that's it," the guard stepped forward.

Doctor Mills swallowed hard and put his hand up. "That's, all right." He couldn't let the Joker set the tone or he would lose any control he had over him. "Making threats isn't going to change anything."

"Too bad...for you, that is," he wiggled in his seat. "I mean, if I had a wife as lovely as yours, I would want to protect her at all costs. Some people have strange priorities, though." Joker shook his head.

Mills face paled slightly. How the hell did the Joker know anything about his wife. "That will be quite enough," he managed. "I think, we're finished for today. You can take him back to his room." He motioned for the guard.

"Okey dokey," Joker replied amiably.

"On your feet," the guard placed his hand under the Joker's arm and pulled him to his feet. "Don't think I ain't reporting you."

The Joker just giggled in response.

Mills started gathering the files and tried not to look into those eyes, those mad green eyes.

"Hey Doc," Joker called over his shoulder as he was dragged from the room, "How many people are in your family, anyway?"