"Is everyone dead?!"

My arms splayed out to an empty room. The corpse of the demon I shot to death lay curled on the floor. Blood had since ceased oozing along the floor. The other corpse I've been talking to slowly slid its face across the bar, then toppled off the stool onto the floor with a thud. I looked behind me back towards the bar. The bartender whose throat I slit half an hour ago was motionless on the floor, blood stained his green flannel red and his arms hung limp at his sides. His eyes stared blankly at nothing. I drummed my fingers annoyedly on the bar, next to the playing card I used to kill him. The joker on its face smiled up at me with bloodstained teeth. I let out a grunt of frustration.

Behind me, I heard the small shuffling of feet, and the sound of someone failing to hold their breath. "Where the hell do you think you're going?" I asked. The shuffling stopped. I turned and looked at Bruce with my arms crossed, acting like a parent who caught their child sneaking into the house after curfew. He looked at me with the same scared eyes he's had ever since I held him hostage, it was getting annoying. I stood up, my feet crunching on broken glass as I walked slowly over to him.

"When I asked if everyone was dead, did you not hear me? You have very large ears, I would be surprised if you didn't, unless…" I stepped right up to him, grabbing him by his collar and pulling him up to my face. "Unless you are dead, which makes you very lively for a corpse. Maybe I should fix that."

The bat's eyes grew more scared as he shook his head, "N-n-no! P-lease.." He put his hands up, but I ignored his pleas for mercy. I licked the tips of my teeth, tasting that familiar taste once more. Without thinking my mouth widened, my smile breaking as I felt my face rip apart at the corners of my mouth. I could feel my jaw unhinging, hear the sickening sound of skin tearing apart; whatever was happening must have been haunting because Bruce was completely petrified. I could see drops of green fall from my mouth onto the red of Bruce's suit, burning through as soon as it made contact. I didn't understand what was happening, but every fiber of my being was telling me to rip him apart. Chew through the meat, down to the bone. Infect him with the gift you gave so many others. Was this my voice?

For just a small moment, for perhaps the first time in my life… I hesitated. And in that hesitation I heard something else. A noise further back in the bar. My mouth immediately closed up, the torn skin stitching itself back together, leaving long red marks on either side of my face. I stared at Bruce for a few seconds, both of us panting heavily. Then I threw him off me into a booth on the wall, he flopped back onto one of the seats and laid there, staring up at the ceiling. I shook my head, trying to regain what little sanity I had that kept me from going completely mad. Then I listened for the noise again. And I heard it.

Something was crawling along the floor, slowly. A small cough emanating occasionally. Then a voice. "Wasn't… enough? Two… crazy… Gotta… out…" I followed the noise, walking through the bar. I stepped back over a demon's corpse, my feet crunched again on broken glass. Then I saw him on the floor. The demon stopped moving and talking after seeing my legs, and looked up at me. Half of his face was exposed muscle, light from overhead reflected on the shards of glass in his face, making it sparkle. Blood caked over his eye forcing him to squint. He looked back down at the floor, coughing and shaking as each cough surged through his body. "God dammit," it was all he could say.

"Hello my not Two-Face, two-faced pal!" I greeted him, squatting down I asked, "Do you need a hand?"

The demon looked back up at me, eyes glaring. With a pained voice he replied, "Screw you, you fuck."

My face mocked one of sadness. "Awww don't be like that. I can see you're upset, why don't you tell me what's troubling you?"

"Blow me," he responded, coughing again, this time accompanied by blood.

Annoyed I stood back up, keeping my eyes on the demon. I walked around him, not breaking my line of sight. I stopped and stood to the demon's right. Raising my left foot I slowly placed it on the back of his head, then pressed down hard, forcing the side of his face filled with glass against the floor. He immediately began struggling and started screaming. I could tell his old wounds reopened as blood seeped out from underneath his face. I smiled, then I pressed harder, savoring the sound of his screams. Then I released my foot, the demon's screaming slowly came to a stop, leaving him breathing through sobs.

"You ready to open up now? I hope so, because you don't look so good. I don't think you'd be able to handle another session of physical therapy," I said, chuckling.

"Wha-whatever man, fuck," he responded.

"Is that a yes? Oh good. And Harley used to tell me you needed to get an education to do this crap," I said under my breath. I walked back in front of where the demon lay panting, then sat down on the blood-soaked floor. "So, let's hear you repeat what you said. When you failed to get away quietly."

The demon breathed for a few moments, not responding. I sat waiting attentively. Then he spoke. "I was sayin… why is there another one… of you?"

I tilted my head confused, "Another one of me? I think you must be mistaken. I'll have you know this item is one of a kind," I said placing a hand on my chest. "No other like me exists."

The demon below wheezed before devolving into another small coughing fit. I couldn't tell if he was trying to laugh at me. "Oh but he… he does. Does nothin' but smile, like you," he winced in pain. "And… and he walks around like he owns the damn place. Kills anyone who pisses him off. Worst part is… ain't no one know what sets him off. Goddamn," he paused to cough some more, then continued, "goddamn psycho."

"Is that all?" I ask, smirking. "Well if killing with a smile is the only thing that connects us, I'm sorry to say but I know plenty of people who fit that description. And a lot of them got it from me." I reached my hand down and grabbed his hair, sharply yanking his head up so he looked right at me. "Anything else?"

The demon grunted angrily, blinking a few times, "You even dress like him too! Fuckin'... ugh, dirty suit, smellin' like a corpse. And… what… what were you goin' on about, fun? Oh yeah, you're him to a T," the demon weakly let out something I could tell was a laugh.

"Even got a stupid gimmick goin' on, with that… clown get-up. Fuckin' freak."

By now I had had enough. My brain ran wild with several ways I wanted to kill him, but only one came to mind that I found fitting.

"Thank you for… sharing your feelings," I said with a small scowl. "I think this concludes our little therapy session. I'll be sure to remember your comments for future review." Smiling, I continued, "To wrap up, let's turn that frown upside down. Because you still look rather upset," I said as the demon continued to glare at me, "and at Joker's Roadside Therapy, we never have an unhappy customer."

Still holding his head up with one hand, I produced a hose from the sleeve of my other arm and put it up to the demon's face. Noticing this, he began struggling, not knowing what was inside. "Just take a deep breath," I said as a small green cloud was released from the hose, which the demon inhaled immediately. Once he did, I let go of his hair and dropped him on his face. I stood up into a squat and asked, "Now, tell me how you feel?"

The demon grunted, placing his palms onto the floor, struggling to pick himself up. He said, "I feel like I- I'm gonnHA, gonna kick yourrraha, kick your aaaahahaha…'' He stopped his struggle, falling to the floor again, his words devolving. Slowly morphing. Into laughter. He rolled over onto his back, his arms tensing up as his hands clawed at his throat. The exposed muscles in his face flexed and tensed rapidly as he lost control. His once angry face forcefully changed between a smile and a look of horror as he laughed. Tears streamed down his face, turning red as it mixed with the reopened wounds. A few seconds later, and whatever little resistance he had left entirely. Laughter roared out from his lips as his eyes bulged out of their sockets. His skin tore creating new wounds. A few seconds more, and his laughing grew hoarse as his throat began to close up. His body shook as he was still forced to laugh even when he couldn't breathe. His arms locked in complete rigor mortis, bent towards his body from his past struggle. Then his legs stretched completely out, his back arched, and then he stopped moving. He slumped back to the ground, a pained smile stretched across his torn face, his eyes completely bloodshot. I watched it all transpire as it had in the past with so many others. It was like a work of art, the effects of the gas, more so than Scarecrow's anyway. No, unlike him there's no cure for this, they're stuck like this. They die laughing, and that joy is etched into their body forever. A work of art.

"Wait, I said that already," I muttered out loud. I shook my head, "I got to get a grip, I might go mad otherwise." I laughed. I looked back down at the now-smiling body, lost in thought.

"Brucie? You still here?" I asked, turning around to find the bat peeking out from the booth. "Ah good, now then, I hope your big ears were working this time. You mind filling me in on this guy?"

Later on, we're back on the streets and far away from the carnage I left behind. "So, Alastor eh?" I say, thinking. When we left the bar, Bruce told me as much as he knew about this man. Told me much of what that smiling corpse said was true, and gave a little more.

"He dropped in one day l-like the rest of us, and ever since he's been… unpleasant," Bruce said.

"Unpleasant is when a child vomits on your shoe, this guy sounds like a riot!" I laughed. "Oh I can't wait to meet him!"

"A-are you going to kill him?" I heard the bat ask with concern.

"I haven't quite decided on that, on the one hand he's been stealing my bit, and if I want to get famous in this town I don't want to be known as the 'Radio Demon Copycat'. It's a bit of a mouthful. But on the other hand, he could be tons of fun to hang around, unlike you you wet sponge," I snapped at Bruce, who followed meekly behind me.

"W-well, either way, you can't just m-meet him."

I stopped in my tracks. Turning around to face Bruce I asked, "Oh really? And why not?"

Bruce had a look of fear on his face again, which still annoys me, and he replied, "Because no one knows w-where he is."

"Oh what a load of trash," I retorted, "you're telling me this guy's a big deal and he doesn't have, what? A house? Favorite restaurant? Friends? Obsessive fangirls? A number in the phone book?"

Bruce shook his head nervously. "H-he's normally just seen walking around, usually in the c-cannibal district, but I'd never go there. Place is full of people that want to e-eat you."

"Yes, cannibals do tend to do that," I say bluntly. Clapping my hands together I continued, "Well it looks like our next course is set."

Bruce stepped back a little, "Y-you don't mean to actually go there right?! I t-told you they eat people! They, they'll eat us! No, we can't, I-"

I cut off the bat's stammering, "See Bruce, that kind of negative attitude is why you'll never get far in life! All I hear from you is no no no no no, when it should be yes yes yes yes yes! Besides you said it yourself, it's the most likely place we'll find him. Unless there's another way you can think of? Maybe a giant signal that shines an 'A' into the sky?" I asked with a smile.

Bruce stammered a bit more, looking around as if he was trying to find an exit from the situation. Seeing nothing he ceased his stammers, sighing pitifully and hanging his head.

"That's the spirit Bruce! Come along then," I stepped over to Bruce's side and linked my arm around his. Skipping forward I forced him along the path, singing, "We're off to see the cannibals, the wonderful cannibals of hell!"