Three Jokers in the Pandemic 2: Get Vaccinated!

by Jack Spheniscidae Enterprises

Despite all dying in the last one, Society's Most Dangerous Gamers the Three Jokers are back and fully vaccinated - ready for the return of normality. But too bad Jokers - the Delta variant isn't the only thing bout to make life a whole lot more difficult in Covid Year Two!

10. The (Crossover) Finale Part I

At the Beginning of the End

"I'm getttin' kinda antsy, with no Ayer Cut out there being released. That was my Phoenix Down, yo. I'm countin' on it to salvage my Joker's rep on the Internets." Jared Leto's Joker whined as he lay on the psychology couch of Greendale's eminent professor of psych, Ian Duncan. "But like that fossilized asshat Joe Biden actually doing anything so voters don't abandon his ass for Big Red Republican Dick at the polls in November, it's not happening! Fuck, that'll be the last time I vote for some senile old racist to defeat the other senile old racist! Voting is useless!"

"Are you really so certain that a new cut of… the bloody first Suicide Squad movie… will suddenly make you the nerds' fancy?" Professor Duncan raised a skeptical eyebrow. "You'll still be running about the place with a big damaged tattoo on your forehead."

"Now that you mention it…" Leto Joker froze up. "...fuck, what if they're right? What if I'm forever doomed to be the Arrested Development Season 5 of Jokers?"

"Well, I already know you're a lousy maid." Professor Duncan tutted. "Terribly sorry to bring it up, mate, but I do believe you've ruined my shoes."

Leto Joker and Professor Duncan looked around his office. It was flooded, ankle-deep, by the blood of the dead hooker that Professor Duncan totally had nothing to do with - he found her like that - from the last chapter. Her messily dismembered body parts were strewn about the place, floating.

Leto Joker tepidly splashed some of the blood. "I guess it turns out I'm better at making messes than cleaning them up."

"I should've known, I saw Suicide Squad." Professor Duncan sighed.

Before this conversation could go on any further, they were violently interrupted by the sound of air raid sirens being blared over the school's PA system.

"What the fuck?" An unknowing Leto Joker asked, but an alarmed look seized Professor Duncan.

"Bloody hell! Fuckin shite! I left me Picasso Automatic back in me flat!"

"Picasso Automatic? What are you talking abo" Leto Joker was cut off as a camo facepaint-clad Todd kicked down the door all decked out in combat fatigues with an army-issue paintball assault rifle in hand.

"HERE'S TOOOOOOOOOOOODD!" Todd screamed, looking quite crazed. He swung his rifle in perfect aim at Professor Duncan and brought his finger down on the trigger.

"HUMAN SHIEEEEEEEEEEEELD!" Professor Duncan shrieked in response as he suddenly and rudely grabbed Leto Joker by the neck and held him high against the paintball barrage.

"Owowowowowowowoowowowowoowiewhatthefuckisthisman" Leto Joker said as he was pelted all over by extremely painful paintballs, until Todd's paintball rifle clicked empty.

"Oh shit!" Todd frantically scrambled to reload.

"Alright, it's my turn ya baby-killing wanker!" Professor Duncan deviously sneered.

"Hey, I resent that!" Todd stammered. "The courts ruled they were toddlers! Not babies! There's a key diff"

Professor Duncan threw Leto Joker into Todd, knocking them down and getting hooker's blood that hadn't already spilled out of Duncan's office all over them.

"Uh… is this…" Todd realized what was all over him.

"It's… um… paint. I had the uh, forethought to flood my office with the stuff in the event of another paintball incident." Professor Duncan innocently whistled. "So I guess this means I got you."

"THIS AIN'T PAINT AAAAAAAAAAA" Todd had a Vietnamiraq flashback and shut down.

"Ah yes, a bit of a dirty move. But you did have me at a wee disadvantage and all's fair in love and war." Professor Duncan picked up Todd's fallen rifle and a spare clip, and reloaded it. Then point blank put Todd out of his misery.

"Who thought now was a good time for paintball?" Professor Duncan muttered to himself. "Well, since I'm here and it's here, might as well win i"

As soon as he stepped out of his office, Professor Duncan was instantly tagged with a barrage of paint.

"Bloody bugger blast it!" Professor Duncan fell on his knees and began hitting the floor with his fists. "I was so farting close!"

"The only thing you're close to is defeat, beeeee-atch!" Chang laughed as he stepped over Duncan's body and then shot Duncan again in the back of his head with a real high-tech sci-fi cyberpunk future looking paintball gun for good measure, KO-ing the normally jovial Englishman. "Ok, slaves, on me! We got some points to capture!"

Chang motioned and the study group (minus Abed, Troy, and Annie because they were still with The Three Jokers and Britta because she was probably off somewhere being a Britta) followed after him.

"Will someone tell me what the hell is happening?" Leto Joker, covered in blood and paint, wailed.

---

"I can't count the reasons I should stay~"

Sometime later Jeff Winger was listening to that one song again from his phone as he cautiously patrolled the desolate paint-splattered halls of Greendale. Of course he had to draw advanced scout duty from Chang. And just to dissuade him from getting any bright ideas, Chang had him bugged and outfitted with a remote-activated collar designed to explode paint all over him. All three of them who had fallen in with Chang had been forcibly drugged and outfitted with these by him. Jeff hated it, not just for obvious reasons. It really clashed with the stylish longcoat and shades he was wearing for paintball stylishness. Still, he couldn't say he was having a completely horrible time. On his way here he'd taken out eleven lone wolves, along with the entire Chess Team and the Yearbook Club in a particularly harrowing encounter in the dangerous chemicals storage.

These victories were sending the Winger on a bit of a power trip which was sending all sorts of signals to Jeffrey Jr.

"One by one they all just fade away~"

Suddenly, through the music, Jeff thought he heard something behind him. Cautiously, Jeff removed his earbuds and turned around.

Blast.

It was the Germans. For some reason, the four of them were dressed like a cross between gay cowboys in a spaghetti western and East German secret police with big barrels of beer strapped to their backs and tankards on their bandoleers.

"...I hate Germans. You're almost as bad as the French!" Jeff complained.

"You tink Der Frenchmen are badder than us? For that you vill die! No one out-evils Der Great Motherland Deutschland!" One of the Germans jeered.

"Ho ho ho if it isn't our old enemy Der Vinger! Ve haffe you cornered und outnumpered! Now we vill show you der might of Deutschland!" The leader of the Germans sneered.

"Deutschland Deutschland Uber Alles!" The rest of the Germans sang in drunken chorus.

"I ain't outnumbered." Jeff parted his coat to reveal he had two Dali Magnums holstered.

"You really zink you can outdraw us all? Fool! Ve vill dispoze of you und be home vith our new Playstazion Five in time for bratwurst und lager!" The lead German chuckled. "It is Vinter for Poland, France, und Vingerland! You stepped in der schiese now, Vinger! Ho ho ho ho!"

The Germans whipped out their Expressionist Glocks and fired at Jeff. Jeff did a cool John Woo backwards dive as he pulled out his Magnums and blasted away three of the Germans immediately. As the leader of the Germans scrambled to correct his aim, Jeff did a tactically useless but cinematically kickass 360 twirl and blasted the German's firearm right outta his hands.

"Vat vat vat der fich is dis? That Playstazion Five vas to be ours!" The German Leader wailed as Jeff Winger emptied the rest of his clips into him until he was nothing but a crumpled paint-soaked ball of tears on the floor.

"You forgot something about the way of the gun, son…" Jeff drawled. "It ain't just about who shoots the first and fastest… it's also about who shoots the straightest and calmest."

Jeff blew smoke and with a flourish returned his pistols to the holsters.

"Shooting first, shooting fast… a bit telling of what you were like in bed." A familiar voice that Jeff hadn't heard in ages - like not since like five seasons and a non-existent movie ago, suddenly spoke out and sent chills down Jeff's spine. Coming from around the corner was the sound of the walk of a lady.

"You!?" Jeff exclaimed.

"Miss me, bitch? You broke my heart and now I'm gonna…" It was (ex?) Professor Slater, his ex from his first ever semester at Greendale. She was dressed up like a genderswapped Venom Snake complete with the eyepatch and robot arm revving up a paintthrower (It's a flamethrower but for paint) that was strapped onto her back and pointing it really menacingly at Jeff. "...BREAK YOUR SOUL."

"Oh crap!" Jeff whipped his guns back out only to hear the click of emptiness as he pressed down desperately on the triggers. He had forgotten to reload after pointlessly but so stylishly emptying an entire clip into the last German when one shot would've sufficed. "OH CRAP."

"Yeah, crap's what I'm gonna do on your chest when I'm done with you!"

"Uh… what makes you think I'm not gonna enjoy that?" Jeff tried to snark in the face of his imminent destruction.

"Cause I had a vindaloo burrito just for this occasion." A wicked gleam lit up in Professor Slater's eyes. The vindaloo burrito! For when bad vindaloo shits and bad burrito shits ain't doing enough on their own!

"...oh no." Jeff was pondering the optics of running away like a little bitch back to the safety of Chang.

"Back away from Jeff, you wrinkly has-been!" Annie Edison stepped out of the shadows with a shotgun (a paint shotgun, not a real one, don't worry). Annie was wearing a long-sleeved official Joker-branded green and purple jacket over her normal clothes. On the back was the official logo of JOKER GANG. "You wanna mess with my friends, you mess with me!"

"So you're Jeff Winger's latest cover girl? Oh Jeffrey, that brainless virtue-signalling blonde wasn't doing enough for you?" Professor Slater glared at them. Jeff tried to sneak away, only for Professor Slater to shoot some warning paint at him. "Annie why don't you step back, drop your gun, and go choke on some pills while I do us both a huge favor? You can tag me afterwards, I don't care about winning paintball, I just care about showing Jeff what's what."

Annie set her shotgun down. "Please, ma'am, we can end this so we all walk away before we do something we really regret."

"No way! I didn't drop off the face of the Earth for what feels like five seasons and a non-existent movie to train and plot my revenge on Jeff Winger to just like not get my revenge on Jeff Winger!"

"I really think you should, ma'am. Um, whoever you are. Sorry, I don't remember the names of secondary characters who disappeared after one season." Abed added as he walked in from outta nowhere. He was still wearing his Evil Abed goatee but was now all dressed up as a Joker Goon just like Annie. "Haven't you ever watched a movie or played a video game or read a book? Revenge is so hollow. That's a very important message."

"Oh, shut up. That's fiction. This is real life we're talking about. Now stay back all of you or you're all outta this game!"

"I believe you." Annie's voice deepened to a growl as she raised her arm and with a flick of her wrist a gun popped out from underneath her sleeves. She fired at Professor Slater's paintthrower's tank, exploding it and dousing Professor Slater in paint, taking her out of the game.

"Fuck!" Professor Slater looked at herself coated in paint, then looked at everyone else who was not coated in paint. Then looked at the gun in Annie's hand, which was smoking in a conspicuously not paintball manner. "Oh, that's just great! You deserve this crazy whore, Jeff!"

Professor Slater then ran away.

"Annie… is that a real gun?" Abed's eyes narrowed.

"Uh… so what if it is?" Annie tried to act innocent.

"That's against the rules of paintball. Not that it matters to me, because I'm Evil Abed and rules are for goody two-squares, but you're not Evil Annie. You're Good Annie and breaking the rules is not good." Abed explained.

"Yeah, but we're taking Intro to Jokerfication. The Jokers are bad guys and we're learning how to be like them. How am I supposed to get a good grade and maintain my GPA if I flunk the course because I'm too good to get downright dirty and Jokery?" Annie pointed out.

"Forget morals! Just where the hell did you get a gun, Annie Oakley?" Jeff demanded. "You could've put someone's eye or life out with that!"

"Uh… Professor Joker took me to a gun store after class last night and brought it for me. For self-defense." Annie said.

"Huh… Evil Troy and I didn't get any free guns from the Prof and together we're four times the evil-doer you are. No offense, Good Annie." Abed started looking very suspiciously at Annie.

"Well…" Jeff awkwardly spoke. "...it was nice seeing you two. But I really need to be getting on my way."

Annie shoved her gun (the real one, not the paint one) back in Jeff's face. Abed raised his own firearm as back-up for Annie, not that she needed it.

"Sorry, Jeff, but we've also got our orders. You're taking a little detour with us."

Jeff sighed wearily. His paintball ass-kicking spree had started off so well.

---

Phoenix Joker sat in a dressing room, brooding to himself as he smoked cigarettes moodily in silence. At the start of the latest Greendale Paintball War, the Joker Gang had taken the theater building and established it as their command center. Ledger Joker and that black kid Troy Barnes were currently on the frontlines, leading the grunts in an attempt to add the cafeteria to their territory.

Joaquin Phoenix's Joker in the last two chapters had gotten a job at Greendale Community College teaching the world's first ever Intro to Jokerfication course. It was to find, recruit, and mold the best young depraved minds into Grade A Joker material. Material that would serve as the foot soldiers of a new Joker Gang that would help the Three Jokers rob the Batman's money which they would then use to bribe the entire population of the United States into taking the Coronavirus vaccine to finally get the virus under control. Batman had enough money to cover the entire population of the USA, especially since all the Batmans were rooming together during this crisis.

But that plan had gone awry as some of the students couldn't cut the mustard and had taken such offense to failing Jokerfication that they convinced Greendale's Dean to try and cancel the class, and replace it with the Intro to Stand-Up Comedy Class that Intro to Jokerfication had originally replaced.

To make matters worse was the man the Dean wanted to replace him with… none other than Jerry Seinfeld. Was it Jerry Seinfeld the real life actor comedian or Jerry Seinfeld the fictionalized character from the show Seinfeld based on and played by Jerry Seinfeld? Eh, this is a fanfic written after copious consumption of Mountain Dew. Don't think too deeply.

Phoenix Joker and Seinfeld, while you may not know it, had history together. And it wasn't pleasant. Phoenix Joker took a long drag on his cigarette and blew out an obscuring cloud of smoke that segued into a very expository flashback.

---

It was Gotham City sometime in the late 1980s, a Gotham City which suspiciously seemed a lot like 1980s New York City. Ronald Reagan had just finished setting America on fire and now his successor George HW Bush was doing his part in pissing on the ashes of the American Dream… a tradition which proudly continues today on both sides of the political aisle. But those big world problems were far from the mind of struggling aspiring comedian Arthur Fleck, who was struggling to become the comedian he aspired to be.

"Boy oh boy I sure hope that my meeting today with the TV people at NBC goes well." Arthur Fleck said with exposition as he ran down the street. "I don't know how I got the chance to develop and star in my own sitcom show but I gotta take it."

Arthur Fleck then arrived at the local NBC corporate building.

He was in such a hurry that he slipped on a patch of wet floor on the way to the elevator. The doors closed before he could make it and then he collided with a smack against them.

"Here let me get that for you." The man said as he held a hand out to help Arthur up. Arthur gratefully took it.

"Thank you, good sir! It's good to know that even living in a SOCIETY like Gotham City one can still bump into a good Samaritan!" Arthur held out his hand. "I'm Arthur Fleck! And you are…?"

"Jerry Seinfeld. Pleased to make your acquaintance."

Arthur Fleck and Jerry Seinfeld waited for the elevator to come back down.

"So what are you here for?" Arthur asked.

"Oh, I'm here to inquire about the janitor job. I've been trying to make it as a stand-up comedian but my mom is making me get a real job." Seinfeld sighed.

"What a coinkydink! I'm also an aspiring stand-up comedian! And I'm also here for a job!"

"Oh, I sure hope it ain't the janitor job. Reaganomics musta buttfucked America somethin' fierce if people's lining up to fight for the privilege of cleanin' toilets. Ain't that somethin' fer trickle-down economics in action, huh? Geddit? Cause pee goes into the toilet by tricklin' down outta the dick! Ha ha ha hyuk hyuk nyuk." Seinfeld laughed at his own joke.

"Oh no, I got a meeting with television creator person Larry David. I'm here to convince him to make a comedy television show!" Arthur replied.

"You lucky bastard! Hmm… what would this show of yours be about?" Seinfeld asked out of curiosity.

Author's Note: I was too lazy to google the actual details of the pre-production of Seinfeld

"Nothing! Or rather, the unexpected funniness of mundane everyday nothingburger life! I prepped a pitch complete with my best jokes and routines, along with stories that really happened to me (and my buddy Eric) that I think will be comedy gold. If it gets a pilot ordered… I think I'll call it… FLECK." Arthur was looking real proud of himself as he took a notebook out of his pocket filled with his handwritten jokes. "It could be my ticket to the big leagues!"

"Why Fleck?"

"Well, cause this show's gonna be about me… starring me… as me! What better way to make my very name a brand?"

"Very… very… intriguing." Seinfeld stroked his chin in a not at all sinister manner, not at all looking like he had struck gold through less than scrupulous means. Totally. "Huh… do you think a name like Seinfeld would have a nice ring for prime time?"

"Ha ha ha sure why not! But y'know…" Arthur Fleck playfully elbowed Jerry Seinfeld. "Who's the dude pitchin' here today? You or me?"

"Oh, you are! I would totally never give cause to think otherwise! Totally!" Jerry Seinfeld gave Arthur Fleck a friendly manpat on the back. As Seinfeld did that Arthur did not notice the sneaky slight of hand with which the other man replaced his notebook with an almost identical one.

An elevator arrived and opened up. They were about to step inside when suddenly Jerry Seinfeld swerved around and pointed at something.

"LOOK ARTHUR, ISN'T THAT SUPERMAN?" Seinfeld violently shook Arthur's shoulder.

"Superman? Where?" Arthur looked around, also extremely dizzy and disoriented from all of Seinfeld's shaking. When he had looked long enough and decided that he had missed the sighting of Superman, Arthur turned back around to finally step in the elevator and ride to Larry David's floor.

Only to see that the elevator had closed and gone back up without him.

And Jerry Seinfeld was nowhere in sight.

"Uh… Jerry, where'd ya go buddy?" Arthur asked out loud. Nobody responded.

As slow as he could, Arthur took out his notebook. His shaky heads grasped at the cover, futilely delaying the inevitable. But finally he stabilized his hands and found the will to open the notebook that he thought contained his pitch. His eyes widened and his heart began frame-skipping beats as the handwriting and jokes that weren't his came into view.

"What… the… FU"

Just like that Boba Fett series, instead of getting these flashbacks done with ASAP, we're gonna drag it out for a bit. So let's flash-forward to the present.

---

Phoenix Joker's flashback was interrupted and he was jolted violently back to reality by the return of his lieutenants Annie and Abed with a prisoner. That middle-aged smartmouth whom Ledger Joker had not too softly put the discipline on in class yesterday.

"We caught a straggler inchin' in on our turf, boss." Abed said as they sat Jeff down in a chair and began the process of tying him down.

"Guys, I really don't think this is necessary. You already disarmed me." Jeff glared at Annie, who was twirling his pistols like a cowgirl at the rodeo.

"You clearly have no idea what's at stake here. This is serious business, Jeff." Abed disagreed and tightened the ropes something extra tight.

"It's just a Playstation 5, Abed!" Jeff yelled. "Christ, all it does is play video games with slightly better graphics than the last one! Just for the hype and price to go down and buy it then! What do you need a Playstation 5 for, really? More games? Geez, I've seen your fucking Steam account! You own over 300 games and have played only ten of them!"

"Oh, but how can I have the bragging rights and commercialist validation of getting in while the getting was hot?" Abed smacked Jeff for his foolishness.

"You forget… one thing, underling." Phoenix Joker strolled in like a military dictator observing the troops, with his arms behind his back. "That PS5 belongs to me, and my fellow Jokers, and whoever is the lucky student who shall graduate from Intro to Jokerfication to full Jokerfication is. We only have the budget to make one of you three a full Joker. The rest will have to settle for Goon Status."

"Then that PS5 is as good as mine. Because who is better Joker material than Evil Abed?" Abed laughed to punctuate his point.

Phoenix Joker sat across from the captive Jeff Winger.

"Well, now. Who's your master, little rat?"

"The collar on his neck suggests he belongs to Senor Chang's army. He outfits his troopers in them to guarantee loyalty or death." Annie explained.

"Chang. That unlicensed Joker wannabe mofo." Phoenix Joker clenched his fist, hissing the word. "If friggin' Seinfeld wasn't givin' me enough of a headache already."

"'Bout Chang, I got no love for the man myself… but you clowns did come stompin' onto his old stompin' grounds and pissing about the place. You think he'd take that lying down?" Jeff pointed out.

Phoenix Joker smacked him.

"Bitch I say you could talk? You talk when I want you to talk, about what I want you to talk about!" Phoenix Joker smacked Jeff over and over again. "So now, bitch, tell me all about Chang's plans!"

Annie and Abed meanwhile picked up some cardboard tubes that had belonged to Jared Leto's Joker, formerly containing pre-order posters from boutique blu-ray label Shout Factory. I have not been paid by Shout Factory, one of America's premiere distributors of entertainment in physical media, to write this. They used them to help Phoenix Joker in the whacking of Jeff Winger.

"Uhnggh! Fine! Just stop hitting me!" Jeff complained. "He was sending me to scout out a route to the cafeteria. We got good intel that there's a frothing and powerful anti-Seinfeld faction forming there. Chang figured he'd add them to his ranks, one way or another."

The Dean's announcement that the winner of this year's paintball game would also get a Playstation 5 (though he pronounced it Playstation V for some reason) had sent nearly the entire campus into a warrish frenzy. Only Britta Perry had yet to participate, on account of her being in traction due to events in the last chapter. Though there were still several separate factions acting on their own accord, control of the Greendale campus had quickly been split between control of three factions and most of the student body, those who had not yet been taken out of the game, had fallen into one of three armies.

The Army of the Joker.

The Army of the Seinfeld.

The Army of the CHANG.

"Well… looks like they're gonna be part of our ranks now." Phoenix Joker smirked. Then he pulled out his phone and dialed Ledger Joker to send some new orders his way.

Suddenly there was sudden beeping from Jeff Winger's collar.

"Uh… Jeff, why are you beeping?" Annie nervously asked.

"Oh no." Jeff realized what was about to happen. There was a crackling noise and Chang's voice began to emanate from speakers built into the collar.

"Naughty, naughty, Jeff. I warned you what would happen if you pussied out and tried to go rogue agent on me. Stitches get snitches, bitch. Looks like I'm gonna enjoy my PS5 without you. Not that I woulda let you play it anyways, Jeffie Weffy."

"Stitches get snitches? Isn't that the other way aro" Annie began to inquire but at that exact moment the beeping sped up and everyone leapt for cover. Jeff's collar exploded and sprayed paint all over him and the immediate surroundings.

"Ah, goddammit. Who's gonna win paintball if it isn't me? Paintball is my game, man! It's over without me!" Jeff whined.

"Is that some sneaky self-aware snark leaning on the fourth wall I hear, Jeff? Are you finally acknowledging that we are stuck in a fanfic?" Abed curiously tip-toed up to Jeff.

"Just what I needed. More of that shit." Jeff sighed.

---

"You see that?" Chang swiveled around in a swivel chair and sat his legs on the table in front of him where Pierce and Shirley were seated. Around them, a baker's dozen of other Greendale students turned Chang-ers were milling about doing menial henchman tasks. Behind Chang was a high-tech super computer with lots and lots of monitors of candid footage of happenings going on all around the school. In the early hours of the Paintball War Chang had commandeered the A/C Repair School. After executing (with paint) the entire faculty and student body when they had refused to bow down before him, Chang had since transformed it into the command center for his army.

"I warned you all what would happen if you tried to fuck with me. And now Jeffrey's fucked around and found out." Chang laughed.

"You shoulda sent me instead. Jeff's a delicate lil dandelion." Pierce said. "Torture wouldn't have broken me like that."

"You wanna test your luck, grandpa?" Chang raised an eye eyebrow. Pierce gulped and shut up.

"Geez, Chang. I don't know about all this ruling through fear stuff." Shirley shook her head. "Wouldn't you much rather do like the good book does and rule through love?"

"The same book where God's fucking up Job's life cause of a bet, asking Abraham to sacrifice his kids to prove his loyalty, or sending the Israelites to kill everyone in some town cause they worship wrong?" Chang sneered.

"Well, I wasn't specifically talkin' bout the Old Testament." Shirley nervously deflected. But a part of her did feel impressed in a morbid way that Chang seemed to have actually read parts of the Bible, or at least googled the summaries online and was filtering them through his own Chang recollection.

"Don't make me send you to the front lines, bitch. Hhhh… of course, we may all be heading to the front lines sooner than we think." Chang contemplated his battle plans. "Now the Jokers know about the Seinfeld Revenge Squad. They're deffo gonna try to recruit 'em before I can. And Seinfeld, he'll probably just try to wipe 'em out before either of us can use them. We may have to storm the cafeteria."

At that moment, alarms started blaring. Chang turned back to his setup of monitors to see what was going on.

"Ahh, I see the Jokers are getting a bit big for their britches. Sent a Joker Death Squad after me, huh?" Chang twiddled his fingers as he looked on a screen that showed four students proceeding down a hallway.

---

Leonard, Other Annie, Magnitude, and Star-Burns were all dressed like Joker Goons and heading down what looked like a normal hallway. All of a sudden, there was the sound of electricity cackling as the power went haywire. The Joker Death Squad looked up in confusion as the lights began flickering on and off until with a screech of static a time vortex opened in front of them.

"Yo what the freak is that?" Magnitude asked as he excitedly pointed at the time vortex.

"Tarnation, just what the day needed." Leonard scowled. "Some friggin' time travelers."

"Uh, Leonard, time travel doesn't exist." Other Annie pointed out.

"Lady, which one of us here fought in Worlds War I? It ain't you, four-eyes! I know what I'm talkin' about." Leonard dismissively replied.

"Leonard, you're old. But not that old. World War I was like one hundred years ago!" Star-Burns pointed out. Star-Burns had made a full recovery from his grievous wounds that the Jokers had unintentionally inflicted upon him when they ran him over and exploded him in the first chapter of this crossover extravaganza.

Leonard scoffed again and smacked Star-Burns, so hard he almost reshaped those star-burns. "Bucko, did I say World War I? Nooooooooo - I said Worlds! Learn the diff, bitch!"

At that moment, a naked nubile black man of an older complexion who looked like real Hollywood actor Keith David stepped out of the time vortex and it disappeared behind him.

"Danger alert! Code red, code red!" Leonard looked downwards before he raised his firearm.

"Woah! Don't paintball him, it's real Hollywood actor Keith David!" Magnitude protested as he forced down Leonard's arm. Man, Keith David, you were wicked cool in Pitch Black starring Vin Diesel! This calls for a POP POP!"

The black man sighed and began expositing. "Hate to break it to you, son, but I am not Keith David. People keep mistaking me for him, for some reason. It ain't like we lookalikes or brothas from other muthas."

"I can't believe you're not Keith David. Pop pop popped, dawg." Magnitude looked disappointed immeasurably and it was certain his day was ruined.

The man ignored him and continued on. "My name is Elroy Patashnik. I come from the Greendale Community College… OF THE FUTURE with a grave warning. Time has become unstuck in your present, my past, and it shall have unpredictable and dangerous consequences for all if not restuck!"

"I knew it! TIME TRAVELER" Leonard was horrified.

"Where… where… are your pants?" Star-Burns nervously asked. He and Leonard couldn't take their eyes, which seemed to be filling not with fear but rather envy, away from where they were stuck downwards.

Elroy sighed. "Abed insisted the time machine I built had to be Terminator rules. He wouldn't stop bugging me until I programmed it to only take my birthday suit through."

"Sir, are you on drugs? Some of that… mari-juuuuuuu-ana?" Other Annie asked.

"You sayin' that cause I'm black, bitch? Dayum ho, we can't dawdle with this frivolous chit-chat! Our world, nay, the whole multiverse is at sta"

"DIE TIME TRAVELER DIEEEEEEE" Leonard screamed as he fired at Elroy.

"Woah! You got a major malfunction coming your way, Leonard!" Elroy sidestepped the blast, but as soon as he set foot on a new tile on the floor, something unexpected happened. The tile sank down, like the pressing of a button. Suddenly, the hallway began to transform. The walls and floor peeled away to reveal something all futuristic and science-y. And before anyone could react, at both ends of the hallway, giant metal doors slid down from outta nowhere trapping them.

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA." Chang's voice suddenly burst in over the PA system. "I knew investing a hefty sum in my fortune in turning one random hallway in Greendale into a Chang-brand death corridor would pay off! NOW YOU'RE ALL GONNA DIE!"

At that moment, machinery began to power up. A laser beam formed at one end of the hallway and sped like Sonic towards the stunned people trapped in the deadly corridor.

"Get down!" Elroy authoritatively commanded with his deep voice that really sounded like the authoritatively commanding baritones of Keith David. Everyone dropped to their bellies, except for Other Annie who wasn't fast enough and the laser beam went through her neck. Instantly, panels in the walls opened up and fired paint from nozzles directed by the laser.

"AW DAMMIT. Fuck, I bet this never happens to Other Annie!" Other Annie threw her paintgun down in frustration upon her elimination.

"It ain't over yet!" Star-Burns yelled and pointed to where more lasers were forming.

"HUMAAAAAAN SHIELD!" Leonard yelled as he grabbed Elroy by surprise. "Your Big Black Dick will stop those lasers!"

"Let go you senile junk food junkie lasers don't work like tha" Elroy said but was cut off as a laser passed through both him and Leonard and they were both sprayed with paint.

"Oh, this is just what I needed!" Elroy complained as he tried to wipe the paint off himself.

"Oh I'm poppin' outta here!" Magnitude tried to jump over the laser only for the laser to rise to match his movement and cut him off halfway. Paint splashed all over him while he was still in mid-air and he crashed back down to Earth a magenta mess.

"You won't take me down that easily!" Star-Burns proclaimed as he leapt the highest he had ever leapt, so high he clung onto the ceiling rafters all spread out like Spider-Man. The laser passed underneath him just barely, but there was no time to celebrate as even more lasers formed up and came his way.

Star-Burns did all manner of leaps and dives and splits and cartwheels and crotch grabs and so on to avoid the lasers. When the last laser had passed him, Star-Burns threw his back in defiant victory.

"You didn't count on me being indestructible, eh, Chang? Now I'm gonna get you!"

Upon saying that, a new laser formed and as it traveled towards Star-Burns it transformed into a whole grid of lasers that encompassed the whole corridor.

"Oh." Star-Burns spoke as the lasers collided with him and his whole body went up in paint. Everyone accounted for, no more lasers appeared and the corridor began to slowly transform back into a normal hallway.

Elroy looked around at his fellow paint-coated peers. "Fuck. And we still got a timeline to save. Anyone got any pants I could borrow, not covered in paint preferably?"

Everyone around him was writhing and moaning in a daze. The trauma of being kicked out of the game of paintball was just too much compared to the fate of all of existence. Elroy sighed and began looking around for clothes extremely cautiously as he went into a seemingly empty classroom. He was a big naked black man after all in a school full of trigger-happy YTs.

"I can't believe it. Everyone's hung up on goddamn paintball. When darker times are coming and their portents are right…" At that moment, a tall lanky man in an outdated looking suit with a funny looking face and a full head of hair growing upwards burst in from out of nowhere into the room with Elroy.

"Hey you!" The man's eyes suddenly shot downwards like a magnet at Elroy's lower extremities.

"...around the corner." Elroy stared. "Can I help you, mister…"

"Mister Kramer, that's me!" Kramer introduced himself "...uh, have you seen my friend Jerry? I'm lost!"

"Uh, no."

"Oh. Sorry if I scared you." Kramer shrugged and tried turning around to find more rooms to burst into in search of Jerry. But he couldn't peel his eyes away from the sight. He couldn't even blink. Elroy got an idea.

"Say, son, do you really need those pants?" Elroy inquired.

---

"What the hell was that?" Chang looked away from his monitors. "I didn't expect any naked black men today! Hhhh…"

Chang looked down his own pants for comparison. "Jesus Christ, the legends are true. He's gonna be a problem."

"Honey, that man ain't even reachin' average. Trust me. You ain't seen nothin' yet." Shirley interrupted Chang. "So forget him, I wanna know where you got the money to turn this school into a death trap!"

"Oh. I got into Cryptocurrency and NFTs." Chang shrugged apathetically before he whipped out a phone with a shitty drawing of Chang as an ape.. "You wanna invest in some Chang-coin?"

"Don't mind if I do!" Pierce whipped his phone and wallet out. Chang tossed his phone over his shoulder and gleefully rubbed his palms.

"Uh… I'll pass." Shirley shook her head.

"That wasn't a request, Shirls." Chang reached into his pocket and pulled out the detonator that would set off the paint collars around their necks. "Get yourself some apes, bitch."

"I'm sorry, but like my lord and savior Jesus Christ in the forty days of desert, I must respectfully say no to your fake internet money voodoo." Shirley stood her ground proudly.

Chang sighed. "I really hoped it wouldn't come to this. Actually scratch that, part of me did and is gonna enjoy what happens next."

He then pressed the button for Shirley's collar.

---

"That laser corridor was kind of cool. But also super derivative. Of the fucking Resident Evil movies. That have like nothing to do with Resident Evil. But that sexy MILF Milla is so sexy in them I can forgive them." Abed commented as they viewed the aftermath of their failed attack on Chang. Abed then looked at Annie. She was smiling for some reason.

"Annie… why are you so pleased? We have lost like four good side characters… and my eyes just had to witness a big naked black man and thus make me question all sorts of things about myself."

"That's Elroy! Y'know, our fellow member of the Save Greendale Committee I was talking about but you all were acting like I was crazy! SEEEEEEEEEEEE how WROOOOONG you were?" Annie crazily screamed at Jeff, who was still tied up and coated in paint.

"SHUT UP I CAN'T HEAR ANY OF YOU NANANANANANNANANA I'M DREAMING AND I'LL WAKE UP ANY MINUTE NOW." Jeff cried and shook wildly to break free of his bindings, to total futility.

"Whatever. Late season additions to the main casts of shows rarely ever have the memorability and acclaim of the originals." Abed stared at Annie. "No one will pick Erzi over Jadzia when it comes to the Daxes, for example."

"Abed, you know I can't track that space trek wars stuff for shit." Annie sighed.

"Ok. I believe you now. Something strange has happened to the timeline. We should probably fix it… but paintball takes priority to crises. We lost some good side characters, Annie. Can you comprehend that?" Abed tutted.

Annie shrugged. "Chang's defenses had to be gauged. We knew it was a suicide mission from the get-go. Why do you think I 'convinced' Other Annie to volunteer for it?"

"You did what?" Abed suddenly felt some pits in his tummy.

"If there was even a one-percent chance… that four-eyed [RACIST SLUR]... had higher Joker potential than me…" Annie's voice slowly descended into a whiny growl. "Then I had to take it as an absolute certainty. And take her off the playing board."

"Annie… that's kind of evil of you." Abed nervously laughed.

"Jesus, Annie!" Jeff added.

"Jesus had nothing to do with it, Jeff. It's all Annie here. Just Annie." Annie smiled innocently. And then she got out of her seat, clicking her heels together as she did. "Anyhoo! We should inform Professor Joker about the bad news!"

"We probably shouldn't do that just yet. He's flashbacking again." Abed pointed to Professor Joker, who was slumped back in a chair, smoking as he sank deeper and deeper into another flashback.

---

It was once again Gotham City sometime in the late 1980s, a Gotham City which still suspiciously seemed a lot like 1980s New York City. After a truly humiliating series of mishaps set up by Jerry Seinfeld to prevent him from reaching Larry David's office on time which we won't go into deep detail about, just imagine After Hours crossed with Miracle Mile crossed with Die Hard with just a dash of Garfield: The Movie, Arthur Fleck had finally made it to television creator person Larry David's office.

He limped in with his suit all torn up and covered in garbage and fluids, smelling of charnal houses or an average San Franciscan street.

I have never seen an episode of Curb Your Enthusiasm.

Larry David, a wizened balding old man, was sitting at his desk.

"Who the blazes are you?" An indignant Larry David, not expecting the sudden arrival of Arthur Fleck, asked in an unfriendly tone.

"I'm… I'm…" Arthur Fleck panted for breath as he struggled to get the words out. "I'm… Arthur Fleck. Your one o'clock."

Larry David checked his watch.

"I had Arthur Fleck at one o'clock already. It's now five o'clock. The blazes are you up to?"

"Please, Mr. David! A cruel and devious trick has been played upon us both by a swindling mountebank! A charlatan coelacanth of the highest degree!" Arthur Fleck fell on his knees and got into the default "I'll suck your cock" begging position.

"Geez, man, don't bite my cock. What is your malfunction?" Larry David asked, annoyed. "I"ll let you know I have a very hot wife Cheryl Hines and she has not left me for an anti-vaxx lunatic yet. I am one-hundred percent hetero, brooooo!"

"Larry David, I am the real Arthur Fleck! The one who you met and presented to you the ideas for the television show Fleck was nothing but an imposter who stole my identity and my ideas to pass them off as his own!"

"Really? So what's his name then?" Larry David asked, doing a poor job of hiding his apathy.

"JERRY SEINFELD!" Arthur Fleck screamed to the heavens as he threw his back way back in rage.

"Seinfeld, huh? That name kinda has a nice ring to it!" Larry David wondered.

"Take this seriously, man!" Arthur Fleck begged. "Please please let me pitch you and we can get this show rolling!"

Larry David was getting real antsy, frustratedly looking at the door as he fidgeted. "I don't know, man, Jerry Seinfeld already pitched a show to me at one o'clock and I said yes. It would be kind of dickish of me to go back on a promise like that."

"Whaaaaaaaat? He pitched you from my ideas that he stole!" Arthur Fleck shouted in disbelief.

"So?" Larry David shrugged. "At least Jerry Seinfeld was on time! He may be a dirty thief, but he's punctual! He respected that I am a working professional on a frigging packed schedule! He didn't come freaking barging in here at five o'clock! Now traffic is gonna be all fucked and the dinner prepared by my hot wife Cheryl Hines will be cold when I get home!"

"Dude, it's cause he tricked me! I woulda been here on time if he hadn't!" Arthur Fleck pointed out.

"Excuses, excuses! You say you woulda been here on time, but when it mattered and push came to shove were you? No you WEREN'T! Someone had to STEAL YOUR IDEAS and SABOTAGE YOU to get someone who wasn't YOU here on time!" Larry David suddenly snapped. "And this Seinfeld, he came in a sharp dressed man! You, on the other hand, look like poo poo!"

"Please, if you would just stop screaming at me and just lis"

"And you smell like it too!" Larry David made a p-u face.

"This can't be happening! Can't you understan"

"I was crazy to even give you a meeting in the first place!" Larry David ranted. "I saw you on friggin' Arthur Murray, you bombed that stint worse than Heaven's Gate at the box office!"

"That wasn't really me, it was a fucking clip! Taken outta context!"

"Hey, did you just say the fucking F-word to me? Larry David? Who the fuck do you think you are?" Larry David grabbed Arthur Fleck and began shaking him wildly before throwing him to the ground to work him over with some kicks. "You know what, I should've just found out about this Seinfeld guy and met with him sooner! So maybe I wouldn't be stuck dealing with you! You know what, I think I'll ring up Seinfeld. Let him know that I know the jig is up but it don't worry me. We're just gonna retitle our show to Seinfeld and make television history. What kinda of a name for a show was Fleck, anyways?"

"Fleck is my name!"

"No, fleck is the shit that gets left behind on the toilet after you flush when you eat too many Cheesy Gordita Crunches at Taco Bell. You're shit, Fleck."

"You can't do this to me!"

"You should've come on time then!"

"I told you why I didn't!"

"That's not an excuse!"

"How is someone stealing your ideas and identity and trying to kill you to stop you from showing up on time not an excuse?"

"There's no rule in showbiz saying you can't do that!"

"Whatever happened to truth, justice, and the American way?" Arthur Fleck asked.

"How the heck should I know? But I do know you've kept me from going home to bone my hot wife Cheryl Hines before she leaves me for an anti-vaxx lunatic long enough! So… adieu, bitch!" Larry David then threw Arthur Fleck out of his office. "Don't let me ever see you again, you little joker!"

"I'm sure that's the last the world will ever see of him and what I did here will have no repercussions whatsoever." Larry David shrugged and went back to his desk to wait out Arthur Fleck's departure as the Curb Your Enthusiasm theme began to play. From outside, he could hear Arthur Fleck banging on the door futilely but inevitably the noises grew weaker and sparser until they ended altogether.

"Oy vey, what an asshole!" Larry David shrugged.

You… little… JOKER!

That word hit Arthur Fleck like a bolt of lighting, convalescing in a neat little lightbulb above his brain. Even as Larry David locked the door before him, and thus shut the door on all his entertainment dreams and aspirations, what Arthur Fleck felt building inside him was not despair but something far darker.

"This society…" Arthur Fleck monologued to himself as he picked himself up and began the long grueling walk home. "...if my only choice is to settle for living in a society or becoming the Joker… I'm gonna become The Joker."

At that moment, Phoenix Joker was jolted out of his flashback by the return of Ledger Joker and Troy Banes. The rest of the Joker Gang that had gone with them on the mission to recruit the legion of Seinfeld haters hiding out in the cafeteria were not present.

"Please tell me something went well."

"Define well." Ledger Joker nervously smiled.

---

A few moments ago Ledger Joker and Troy Barnes, leading a team of Joker Gang, had arrived at the cafeteria after hours of harrowing fighting against the forces of Chang or Seinfeld and sometimes both in a vicious three-way of paint. Many good people had been lost in the fighting, but they were men on a mission so they had no choice but to carry on towards the future.

"Huh. Who are all these folks?" Troy asked as they cautiously entered the cafeteria, and the moment they stepped through instantly hundreds of arms fully loaded with paint were trained on them.

"Dunno. They ain't with me." Ledger Joker replied. All around them were a myriad of people who looked like they'd fallen out of a portal from the 90s as evidenced by their fashion sense into whenever this fanfic is taking place. The crowd before them parted ways to form a path to their leader, a stern looking mustachioed-man dressed like a chef.

"Oh, hey. It's the Soup Nazi!" Troy said.

"I hate that name! I left New York City to escape that moniker, only to have it pop up again and again wherever I go like a rash on ass!" The Soup Nazi complained. "But enough about me! Drop your weapons if you want to live!"

"We're just here to talk!" Ledger Joker insisted. "Get those friggin' guns outta our face!"

"Who has the bigger guns here? You or me, silly clown man?" The Soup Nazi replied as all of his compatriots cocked their guns.

"Fine!" Ledger Joker gave the order for the rest of Joker Gang to lower their weapons.

"Uh, Joker, I don't think that is very smart." Troy whispered.

"Shut up. Who's in charge here, you or me?" Ledger Joker hissed and reluctantly Troy threw down his paintblasting sawn-off. Soon, their weapons were being confiscated like phones in the classroom.

"Now we can talk terms of alliance, clown man." The Soup Nazi crossed his arms.

"Huh? You know why we're here?" Ledger Joker asked.

"Of course. Our intel man reported it to us hours ago." The Soup Nazi motioned towards a fat postman in glasses. It was Newman! (although they had no way of knowing that)

"How did we miss someone like him spying on us, running about campus? You ain't exactly a twig." Troy scratched his head.

"Buddy, I was a postal worker in fucking New York City. I know a thing or two about getting around like a pro." Newman proudly said.

"Ok, so since we can skip that chit-chat, how about you just sign these papers right now and head over to Joker Gang HQ for initiation?" Ledger Joker reached into his pockets and took out a contract.

"Not so fast!" The Soup Nazi slapped the papers out of Ledger Joker's hands. "Do you even know who I am?"

"Yeah, you're the asshole who showed up at this school last month, makes really good soup but is also a really big asshole about it." Troy piped up.

"You should not have taken seven minutes of holding up the line to decide if you wanted your soup that day, young fool!" The Soup Nazi unapologetically said. "Before I was reduced to selling soup at a no-name community college in Colorado, I was once KING of the New York Soup Scene! Until…"

The Soup Nazi's brows furrowed with intensified rage that had been building up for like nearly 30 years, his skin reddening like former American political swing states Ohio and Florida with each successive election year.

"...Seinfeld and his friends discovered my soup. Then when the WOMAN could not abide by my very sensible rules, she chose to steal my recipes and expose them for all to see! They ruined my life, my everything! And I was not alone!" The Soup Nazi motioned around the room. "All of us have had our lives ruined by Seinfeld and/or friends!"

"Hear hear!" The whole room arose in cheers of agreement before they began recalling their own grievances.

"Aw geez, where do I get started?" Newman gritted his teeth, clenched his fists.

"Seinfeld ruined my dreams of making it in the restaurant business! Then he and his friends got me deported!" A vengeful Pakistani gentleman shouted.

"That fuckhead Seinfeld taught me how to say fuck and I got in trouble with my fucking mom!" Said a foul-mouthed kid, before widening his mouth to reveal a gruesome sight. "She had the fucking dentist replace my fucking teeth with fucking soap to keep me clean 24/7! Now all my fucking food tastes like fucking soap when I swallow!"

Then he took some melted no-fat yogurt out of his pants that he'd been carrying around for who knows how long. "And just to rub it in, he had to go and ruin my dad's yogurt business too!"

"I stole a gyro off him in the subway once. Then I got food poisoning and shat my intestines out into the toilet. It's all Seinfeld's fault for having that gyro to begin with!" Another angry voice called out.

"That goofball pal of his Kramer, he was a real pain-in-the-ass with his fresh fruit perfectionism! A real lousy cuss-tomer!" A disgruntled store owner with a name-tag reading Joe complained. "And I bet that Seinfeld was enabling him all the waaaaay!"

"Who the hell's Kramer?" Troy asked.

"Shut up and let us bitch!" The entire Seinfeld Revenge Squad screamed at him.

"Seinfeld's buddy George stole the suit of my dreams from me!" A funny looking pudgy balding guy complained. "Then I tried to take my revenge on him and the little bastard weaseled out of it!"

"And we're the guys who took the fall for it!" Some businessmen who looked like they'd been violently shitting their pants for the past thirty-ish years. "He coulda warned us but didn't!"

"George Costanza is a double-dipper!" Another man screamed and there were many gasps of horror.

"And he can't park for shit!" Someone else added.

"Uh… what does Seinfeld have to do with this guy George?" Troy asked again.

"He's guilty by association!" The Soap Nazi shouted as he shook his fists. "GUILTY BY ASSOCIATION!" Chants rang out in chorus.

"Seinfeld must die." Crazy Joe Davola growled before he karate-chopped a table in two. "Kramer, George, Elaine… all must die too."

"Maybe not that far! For some reason we will get in trouble if we kill him, and no way in hell should we let Seinfeld get the last laugh." Newman advised.

By now a whole calendar's line-up of gorgeous looking women including real Hollywood actress Marisa Tomei were lining up to all fire off their grievances with Seinfeld or his associates. This took a looooooooong time and behind them even more people from all walks of life and even a few people from all walks of un-life (they were zombies or ghosts who could only communicate with moans or boos but the tone made their hatred clear) were all lining up to vent their grievances with Jerry Seinfeld or his friends so let's fast-forward.

"We thought it was all over when the judge sentenced 'em all to some time in the slammah." Newman explained. Ledger Joker and Troy looked bored out of their minds, their senses numbed by the maximalist full frontal verbal assault of the Seinfeld Revenge Squad.

"I moved to Greendale to start life anew, fresh!" The Soup Nazi ranted. "But then one day I see SEINFELD in this town, trying to start a new life for himself too! And you know for sure… where Seinfeld goes… HIS FRIENDS… follow! I could not risk THE WOMAN again ruining everything!"

"Hear hear! Elaine's the worst of them all!" A few voices piped up in agreement.

"But I remember, I am not alone!" The Soup Nazi cackled. "And thanks to the Computer Internet, I was able to find and organize the Seinfeld Revenge Squad!"

"Great! So let's work together! Enemy of my enemy is my friend, yo!" Ledger Joker impatiently demanded.

"Not so fast!" The Soup Nazi motioned and some authoritative-looking woman went up to the Joker.

"What's going on here?" Troy asked.

"It's a simple test." The Soup Nazi crossed his arms.

"You see, some of us here got to talking and thinking." Newman explained. "Seinfeld and his buddies are classic narcissists, thinkin' they're so special and the world revolves around them. That the fabric of existence should bend to their needs, trampin' over the rest of us without a care for the destruction they leave behind in their wake. But they ain't special, they ain't alone in bein' a loaded grapefruit of assholes."

"Grapefruit?" Troy asked.

"It makes sense when you think about it, kid." Newman scoffed. "Short of it is, we spent years revolvin' round one solar system of assholes. We ain't in a hurry to trade it for another galaxy of 'em. I mean, you're talkin' about workin' for the friggin' Joker."

"Batman's the real asshole here! I'm innocent! He framed me and now society's out to get me, like OJ!" Ledger Joker defended himself. Upon the mention of OJ, someone in the crowd began screaming and screaming, like the term was triggering some really bad memories involving one of the Seinfeld crew. "C'mon, I'm great friend material. Let's kick ass together!"

"Well, prove it." The Soup Nazi did not look convinced. "Tell him what to do, woman."

The woman next to the Soup Nazi began talking, if you could call it that. Her lips were moving, but there was nothing audible, not even a faint whisper coming out. Ledger Joker stared, bewildered and straining as he tried to make sense of what this low-talker was saying but he hadn't made out a single word when she stopped.

"There you have it." The Soup Nazi said. "You willing to do what it takes for our alliance?"

"Uh… can you have her repeat that? And speak up this time?" Ledger Joker asked.

"You testing my patience, silly clown man." The Soup Nazi rolled his eyes.

Ledger Joker gulped.

"This is gonna be a show." Newman giddily rubbed his palms together.

"You catch any of that, kids?" Ledger Joker asked his Joker Gang in a whisper.

Troy shook his head then whispered his mind.

"Uh… I think we should just leave. This is proving to be more trouble than it's worth."

"We can't just pussy out like that, dude." Ledger Joker exasperatedly replied. "I'll just pretend I understood her and say yes. How hard can whatever it is they want us to do actually be?"

Ledger Joker turned to face the increasingly bloodthirsty crowd.

"Sure, it ain't gonna be any sweat off my back!"

The Soup Nazi snapped his fingers and a big pot of soup was wheeled up to them on a cart.

"This is cream of mushroom soup to be drunk by you Joker, to prove your trustworthiness. But wait! There's only mushroom, no cream. Where is the cream? Why, you will supply the cream!" The Soup Nazi pointed at Troy's dick.

---

Troy and Ledger Joker ran for their lives, paint flying after them. The mob was on their heels. The rest of the Joker Gang had been taken down.

"NO FRIENDSHIP FOR YOU!" The Soup Nazi somewhere way back, was shouting. His voice still carried like a fart in the wind.

"I told you we should've just gone home!" Troy cried.

"Yeah, but when we get back to HQ, I'm telling Joaquin it was all your fault!" Ledger Joker snarled.

"You can't do that!"

"Watch me, bitch!"

At that moment, they collided with Kramer rounding a corner as he also ran around like a headless chicken in the halls.

"Ow! Watch where you're going!" Troy yelled at Kramer.

"I was! You're the ones who should watch where you're going! You have poor eyesight? Not eating enough fresh fruits and veggies? You should! They're delicious and they're good for you!" Kramer insisted. "Here, have a carrot on me!"

Kramer took a carrot out of his pocket and put it in Troy's.

"Uh… thanks?" Troy asked.

"No problemo, homeboy!" Kramer slapped Troy's palms. "Say, I'm Kramer. I'm looking for my friend, Jerry. Have you seen him?"

"Jerry, huh? C'mon, let's take this weirdo captive and bring him back to HQ for interrogation." Ledger Joker flipped open a knife, only for the sounds of angry shouting and footsteps to catch up to them. He looked up and they were completely surrounded. "On second thought…"

"Hey, it's Kramer!" Newman shouted in recognition.

"Hey, Newman! Long time no see!" Kramer waved.

"KRAMER?" Hundreds of other voices lit up in contempt.

"GET HIM!" Someone shouted.

"Oh no! What did I do?" Kramer screamed as he sprinted away like a majestic gazelle, and forgotten in this new development, Troy and Ledger Joker were tramped upon by the pursuing mob.

"Owowowowowowowoowow…." Troy moaned.

"Christ… how can I crawl back to that me-wannabe Joker emptyhanded?" Ledger Joker chowed down on some medicinal herbs he'd stolen from Jared Leto's Joker earlier.

"Well, we do have Plans B-Z…" Troy raised his hand. "Hey, gimme some of those herbs, man."

"No way bro, steal your own."

---

"So we failed to recruit the Seinfeld Revenge Squad but…" Ledger Joker nervously smiled. "So upon going through all the back-ups provided by Troy here…"

"Don't tell me you went to who I thought you went to…" Abed sighed. "Plan Z, really? It was a joke, Abed. I didn't think we'd actually need to go that low."

"Desperate measures, last resorts, Abed. Plans B-Y were already DQ'ed or with Chang. It's a real paintbath out there. Hey, he could actually be… an… asset…" Troy sweated as music suddenly began to build up. It was a familiar glam-rockin' 80s tune by the band Europe. It was…

"Oh no. I smell another surprise crossover. Empty pop culture references r us, amirite." Abed interrupted as he sniffed.

It was…

"IT'S THE FINAL COUNTDOWN! Nuh nuh nuh nuh nuh nuh nuh THE FINAL COUNTDOWN!"

The front door to Joker Gang HQ was kicked down as smoke poured out. And leaping through the smoke was a wiry man with a receding hairline dressed like a Vegas stage magician, throwing playing cards about the place.

"My name is Bluth… Gob Bluth, and prepare to be… CONFOUNDED… by MAGIC!"

"What the fuck is this?" Phoenix Joker asked. "Uh… ain't this that guy from Arrested Development… a fictional character from a fictional show? How the hell is he here? Jared's Joker even referenced the freaking show at the start of this chapter."

"Dude, we're in a shoddy fanfic remember. Just go with it, bro." Ledger Joker shrugged.

"Oh, he was a new professor last semester. Introduction to Magic. Only he got fired because he didn't do much teaching." Abed looked up and away, as a cartoon thought bubble formed and a flashback started playing in it.

---

In another bloated flashback Abed and Troy were sitting at the front of a classroom dressed up as Constantine (Keanu's) and Constantine (Matt Ryan's) respectively. Jeff walked in, dressed like Doctor Strange, very uncomfortable in the cheap costume.

"I can't believe you convinced me to sign up for this class and even dress like this." Jeff whined very expositorily. "I don't think stage magicians are the same thing as comic book magicians."

"Yes, but think of the prize. You get all my chicken tenders at lunch on chicken tender day for not just a whole month, but two whole months." Abed reminded Jeff.

Jeff sighed. "Why am I the only one in costume though?"

"What do you mean? We're in costume." Troy replied. Jeff stared.

"C'mon, you don't know who John Constantine is?" Abed asked.

"Who?" Jeff blinked.

"And Annie will be showing up in costume too. As Scarlet Witch." Abed informed Jeff. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"Scarlet Witch? Which one was that?" Jeff blinked. "You know I can't keep track of capeshit the way you do."

At that moment, Annie walked in, conspicuously not dressed like the Scarlet Witch.

"Why aren't you in costume, Annie? The costume that I brought with my money for you?" Abed asked.

"I put it on and I looked like a cheap hooker in the mirror." Annie sighed. Jeff seemed disappointed at the thought of missing that sight.

"Cheap hooker?" Abed was indignant. "You're no cheap hooker! You're the Scarlet Witch! Formerly the most powerful magic mutant daughter of Mag-freaking-neto before retcons, still the most powerful magic not-mutant whoever's-daughter she is now! With a robot boyfriend!" Abed's voice dropped to a whisper. "Though let's not think about the alternate universe with the brother boyfriend… whatever… Annie, you're a beloved character, not a hooker!"

"Abed, words are coming out of your mouth and they seem to be in English. But I don't understand what any of them mean!" Annie nervously responded.

"Elizabeth Olsen wears this in those Marvel movies and shows and would you call her a cheap hooker?" Abed asked.

"Well, I've had cheap hookers that looked hotter than Scarlet Witch. And could act better too." Pierce walked in, dressed like Doctor Doom. A professional cosplay level dress-up, based on the comics iteration not any of those shitty F4 movies. Behind him was Shirley, dressed like the Virgin Mary.

"Shirley, that isn't the costume we sent you." Abid tsk'ed.

"Superheroes." Shirley sighed. "I'll tell you what real magic is. Giving birth to our lord and savior Jesus Christ. Who didn't need no hocus-pocus hoodoo to perform his miracles. No! He had the power of the Lord!"

"Hi Shirley. Uh… Pierce… we didn't tell you to come in costume.." Troy said.

"Well, I couldn't let you young bucks upstage me now could I?." Pierce smugly replied. "Hey, don't worry, Annie. I'm sure Britta will be happy to wear that in your stead. Some feminists think its empowering to dress like a lady of the night, I hear."

"Britta ain't coming. She texted me to say that magic is like gaslighting and we should feel bad for getting into it." Abed looked at his phone. "Awwww... and I had the sexiest Zatanna costume picked out for her."

"Oooh… can I replace her?" Chang said from outta nowhere, popping up behind them and eliciting screams of shock.

"Please go away Chang." Jeff moaned.

"C'mon! Would superheroes really turn away a chance to make a friend? Especially a friend like..." Chang ripped his shirt open to reveal that underneath he was wearing a Superman costume.

"Superman? SUPERMAN'S WEAK TO MAGIC. The fuck you doing in MAGIC CLASS?" Abed and Troy raised their fists. Chang gulped and scurried away to the door.

"Yeah, well Superman don't forget no punk ass bitches when tax-time comes around!" Chang screeched before he ran back into the halls.

"ARE YOU BITCH ASS HOES READY TO GET YO MINDS BLOWN AWAY LIKE AN UNDERCOVAH COP IN A DRIVE BY" A disembodied voice, like a white dude doing a bad impression of a black guy, suddenly screamed out.

"Shut up guys, I think the class is starting." Jeff whispered.

At that moment, the Final Destination began to play. Part of the ceiling exploded and Professor Gob Bluth fell out of the hole and flopped out on the ground like a dying fish before picking himself up.

"It's magic time!" Professor Bluth then did a bunch of magic tricks and stuff in front of the class as the Final Destination continued to play before cycling onto other glam rock 80s classics in the playlist. And then just kept going.

"Clap please." Professor Bluth would occasionally pause to say before getting right back to performing. People would try to raise their hands, and then just yell out, to start the class already but these protests all fell on deaf ears. One by one, students began throwing their arms up in frustration and getting up to leave the class until it was just the Study Group (minus Britta) and a few of the secondary/tertiary supporting characters too.

"Hey Professor, when does this damn class start? It's over in like five minutes. " Pierce yelled out after he checked his watch.

"Yeah, uh, when are you gonna teach us magic?" Annie added.

"Teach you magic? What self-respecting magician gives away his own secrets? Not even Tony Wonder would sink that low!" Gob looked aghast. "I'm here to bask in the adoration of an adoring audience!"

"Then why are you teaching a freaking class about magic?" Jeff pointed out.

"Hey, I needed the money to rebuild my life here! The average rent and starting price of cocaine in SoCal was just too damn high!" Gob complained.

"Your magic ain't even that good anyways. You're a fraud. Like the Spoon Guy!" Pierce booed.

"DON'T COMPARE ME TO THE FREAKING SPOON GUY! HE'S A NON-UNION SCAB!" Gob yelled as he tackled Pierce and began throttling him.

---

"I thought the Dean fired you after your first day. For choking Pierce into a coma. And also ruining Jeff's hair when he tried to pull you off him." Abed remembered. Everyone was staring in awkward disbelief at Gob's antics.

"I got fired, sure. Fired from Intro to Magic. But the Dean needed a new teacher for…" Gob stopped what he was doing and paused dramatically. "...RACIAL RELATIONS 101. I minored in that when I got my magic major!"

"I… I… think we should get back to planning new assaults on our enemies!" Annie said, trying to stop things from going too far as they tended to do.

"And I'll be teaching it with my good 'ol buddy and hardworking TA…" Music began to play as Gob reached behind his back and whipped out a rather ugly puppet of a lil black guy. "...FRANKLIN!"

"Oh god. Puppets. After what happened the last time too." Abed cringed.

"Oh… it ain't easy bein' white…" Gob sang in his regular voice. Then he sang for the puppet via ventriloquism in a faux-black guy's voice. "IT AIN'T EASY BEIN' BROWWWWWWN!"

"Uh… what the… fuck?" Troy dropped his Evil Troy character and spoke in his regular old voice.

"All this pressure to be bright…" Gob resumed singing in his normal voice before resuming the Franklin voice. "...I GOT CHILDREN ALL OVER TOOOOOOOOOOWWWWWN!"

"Oh, fuck this honkey nonsense!" Troy football-tackled Gob and started fighting with him in an attempt to wrench Franklin off. They fell right into the captive Jeff, breaking his bonds as they knocked him over and continued to tussle for control of the lil puppet Franklin.

"SELF HATRED WON'T CHANGE THAT I'M SPITTIN' FACTS, HOMIE!" Gob choked out in Franklin's voice as Troy smacked him.

Troy responded by punching the puppet over and over again.

"Ow ow ow ow ow that's my face dawg!" Gob screamed again.

"Freedom! Screw you guys!" Jeff cried as he ran away, flipping the bird as he did.

"Uh… shouldn't we go after him?" Annie pointed out.

Troy was now beating Gob with his puppet.

"Uggggh! This is still a win! Because it proves black or white, we're all in this together!" Gob raised his fist and shook it before Troy began kicking him.

"Why bother?" Ledger Joker shrugged as he got out a bag of popcorn and headed to the microwave. "He's outta the game. He's not a threat anymore."

"Or is he?" Abed raised an eyebrow. "I guess we'll have to find out next chapter. Because this shit is like 30 pages in the drafts already and this author can't edit his fanfic for shit. If I were Good Abed, I'd hate multi-part finales. It's like all those concepts that are actually two-hours-at-best movies that somehow get stretched out into an interminable amount of hour-long episodes as a miniseries and dumped out on some streamer. Whatever happened to brevity? But because I'm Evil Abed, I'm lovin' it! Hey, let's go down memory lane and binge some Marvel-now-on-Disney-Plus-Netflix shows after this war's over!"

On the next Three Jokers in the Pandemic

Jared Leto's Joker finally gets his big hero moment.

Kramer shows off a very special trick that he learned back in the joint, to great consequences.

Elroy's mission to correct the timeline is constantly waylaid by his need to keep finding new pants as the ongoing paintball war keeps ruining his current pairs.

The dramatic final duel for the prize PSV gets Britta'd

And Superman! For real!

---

That transitional music or whatever it's called from Seinfeld was playing as the scene shifted to Seinfeld's HQ, which he had violently taken from the theater kids in the early days of the latest Greendale Paintball War. Seinfeld was currently doing a stand-up routine for his army, to entertain and raise their morale during this lull in the fighting.

"You know, people are always coming up to me in the street. They're like, are you Jerry Seinfeld? The guy who voiced the bee in the Bee Movie? And whenever I say yes, they're like ohhhhh that's like my guilty pleasure movie!"

Seinfeld looked at his audience, which was made mostly of insignificant background extras-type students and such "very fine" members of the community like the war criminal, the groundskeeper with the Nazi tattoo, and those annoying high schoolers. And at the front of the audience was a funny looking little pudgy man in glasses, who was also clearly bald but wearing a ridiculous hairpiece that made him look like a member of a shit alt rock band in the late 00s. It was George Costanza!

"Guilty pleasure. Whenever I hear that word, I just have to roll my eyes. It's just a dumb movie about a talking cartoon bee and the woman who wants to bang him, I mean, how guilty can you be for liking it? I feel a guilty pleasure should be something you should actually feel guilty about enjoying. You know, like snuff flicks or Nazi propaganda. No one in their right mind would admit to enjoying actual guilty pleasures! Because you're meant to feel guilty about them, not pleasure!"

"Don't see what's so wrong about some good 'ol Triumphin' of the Will." The groundskeeper shrugged.

"Guilty pleasures don't have to be just about movies though. Serial killing's probably a guilty pleasure. Or how about dating hot looking young women who are 30-40 years my junior. They'll say that's an inappropriate age gap, but as those who do it probably see it - do shoppers yank the brownest spotted bananas off the shelves or do they go for the ripest yellow bunch?"

The young coed women in the audience started to fidget uncomfortably as Seinfeld's gaze lingered on them suspiciously longer than the average gaze.

"Or masturbation. There is something sad and pathetic about bringing yourself sexual pleasure with yourself as your sexual partner, but I ain't too much of a man to lie and say that it don't feel good. My buddy George there…" A spotlight shined on George Costanza, who started to nervously sweat and his hair-piece began to slip. "...well, the two of us could probably tell you all about a little contest we had once. That's a story for another day, but let's just say we invented the idea of this computer internet thing called No Nut November before there was a computer internet! And do we get royalty checks for it… Nooooooooo!"

Seinfeld paused to bask in the laughter of his audience. No one laughed.

(What's going on here? I thought this material would get 'em gutbusting in the aisles for sure! Please laugh! Why aren't you laughing?) Seinfeld thought. (A-ha, I bet it's woke cancel culture at work again! It's totally not because I'm not funny anymore!)

Seinfeld was about to berate them for having their senses of humor ruined by Woke Cancel Culture when the student Garrett, dressed like Seinfeld's old nemesis Newman, walked in.

"Hello, Newman." Seinfeld said flatly.

"Seinfeld, I rendezvoused with our spy in Chang's camp and I have lots of intel to report."

"No, no, no. You're Newman. You're supposed to say Hello, Jerry after I say Hello, Newman to you."

"But I'm not Newman. You just made me dress like this!" Garrett protested.

"Well you're Newman until Newman actually shows up! Now do it right, bitch!" Seinfeld bitchslapped Garrett.

"Fine!" Garrett sobbed.

"Hello, Newman." Seinfeld said flatly.

"Hello, Jerry." Garrett said.

"Now you can report."

"Well, we lost both the chemical lab and the ice cream freezer to Chang's forces. The latter will put a real damp on morale. You really shouldn't have promised that ice cream party, mister." Garrett looked at George Costanza, who was turning red and struggling to keep his hairpiece in place.

"It seemed like a good idea at the time! Ice cream never never boosts results!" George Costanza defended himself.

"Hey, don't second-guess my second-in-command!" Seinfeld slapped Garrett again. "Now what else have you got?"

"The Joker Gang took out twelve of our battalions."

"Wait, twelve entire battalions?"

"Yes."

"Damn! That's a lot of our guys! Who the fuck does this Joker think he is?"

"Well, he's the Joker. Clown Prince of Crime. And there's like three of them here. So that's like triple the crime." Garrett pointed out.

"He's a criminal, not a comedian! He does crimes, not jokes!" Seinfeld started ranting. "Who gave him the right to call himself Joker, when what he is is a Crimer! Damn… I just fought in this war for the right to teach a Stand Up Comedy class… but now I'm gettin' an urge to kick some clown ass and show them who a real Joker is!"

"And, sir…" Garrett continued. "...there's word on the campus that a… City College may be planning an invasion to win this paintball game for themselves."

Seinfeld shrugged at that. "Whatever, Newman. You go deal with that. You're a postal worker. You got experience dealing with cities."

"Sir, I must remind you I'm not actually this Newman!"

Seinfeld slapped Garrett again. "Bitch, you're Newman until I say you're Newman! Now get to work! I must confer with my second-in-command."

Seinfeld went up to George Costanza.

"Just take it off, George. You like sillier with it on. Just embrace the dome, man."

"Uh, I can't, Jerry."

"Why not?"

"I need this hairpiece to cover the uh… swastika I got tattooed on my head."

"You got a WHAT tattooed on you?"

"Hey, my time in prison wasn't as rosey and sunshiney as yours! It was either get buttfucked by the Nazis, blacks, and Mexicans or just get buttfucked by the Nazis while the blacks and Mexicans just try to kill you!"

"Did they say that was what was gonna happen if you didn't get a swastika tattooed on you?"

"No, no one asked me to do anything! But I saw all the big prison movies! Shawshank, Escape from Alcatraz, Midnight Express, Con Air, BLOODFIST 3! I know what happens when you don't got a crew! I made a preemptive decision for my own wellbeing?"

"So you got into White Power so black guys would only try to kill you and not fuck you? You got no problem with getting killed by a black guy, just fucked by him?" Seinfeld stared at George skeptically.

"Hey, that's just how it is!"

"So how was it? The Nazi sex?"

"Oh, I never had any sex. They kept saying I was a disgrace to the Aryan bloodline. No one wanted to be my Nazi bunk buddy. How? Look at me! How am I a disgrace in any way?" George waved his arms around wildly.

"Not even when you dropped the soap?"

"No. Not even when I dropped the soap. I started dropping my soap on purpose to see if anyone would try something. But na-da! No one ever did! They let me pick it up in peace! Every freaking time!"

"So you just got beat up by black guys a lot."

"Yeah… not just the black guys. Everybody. And they didn't even make me suck their dicks afterwards. What gives? I left prison feeling like I had an incomplete experience! And now that I'm on the outside this tattoo is doing even more jackshit for me! It's ruined every interview I got! We're living in a society! Or something!"

"You don't say." Seinfeld sarcastically replied.

"Well, except the one at Fox News. For some reason. I failed that one because I accidentally spilled my McDonald's coffee on Tucker Carlson's dick while I was leaving." George threw his arms up in frustration.

"Well then… movin' on." Seinfeld awkwardly said. "Elaine and Kramer show up yet? They both gave me a big honking yes after I told them about this paintball thing!"

"Elaine? She ain't even responding to any of my texts! She isn't even properly ghosting me by reading the messages!" George held up his phone, which had texts upon texts sent to Elaine that had no indication they'd been read by Elaine.

"Leave it to the woman to forgo all punctuality! But you'd think Kramer would at least be on time! He's Kramer, af-"

At that moment, Kramer burst in through the doors.

"-ter all. Oh hey, Kramer."

Jerry, George, and Kramer briefly danced giddily in place upon this reunion.

"Jerry! George! Long-time no see!" Kramer aggressively shook their hands. Seinfeld's eyes then went downwards as Kramer was doing this.

"Uh, Kramer, where'd your pants go?"

"Oh, a big black man asked me for them. He was naked." Kramer nonchalantly said.

"You just gave a big black man who was naked your pants?"

"Well, yeah. Jerry, if it's between your pants or the wrath of a big naked black man, what would you choose?"

"I'd choose a little dignity, Kramer!" Seinfeld said.

Kramer took out a cigar and calmly lit it. He took a puff and blew out smoke.

"I'd choose walking away with everything else intact, Jerry."

"Uh, guys… what's that sound?" George interrupted.

"Yeah! What is that sound? It sounds like an…" Seinfeld listened.

"An angry mob? Well, that's because it is." Kramer said.

"What?"

"Yeah, I ran into 'em earlier. You know everyone the four of us have ever pissed off? They're all here and boooooy are they in a bad mood!"

"Even the dead ones?" George asked sarcastically.

"Yeah! Even the dead ones! Remember Susan? She's a zombie now!" Kramer earnestly nodded.

"Dead people are back? How?" George yelled.

"Dunno. Maybe it had something to do when the Green Green Lanterns were shooting all the Black Green Lanterns a few months back. Or maybe it's a Casper the Friendly Ghost the Movie unfinished business kinda thing. Except they didn't look too friendly back there." Kramer started contemplating.

"Kramer, forget the specifics… just tell me - did you just lead an angry mob to my headquarters?" Seinfeld started sweating as he heard banging on the doors.

Kramer shrugged. "Uh… I may have done so. But hey, it took me forever to find this place and I was getting tired! You try going anywhere with an angry mob on your heels!"

"Oh, Kramer!" Seinfeld put his hands on his head in exasperation as the angry mob led by the Soup Nazi burst in. Caught off guard, Seinfeld's forces were fish in a barrel for the bloodthirsty mob.

"Seinfeld! In the flesh! Where is the Woman? I want her scalp!" The Soup Nazi yelled.

"I don't know!"

"I guess you'll just have to do." Newman chuckled as he walked up. "Elaine can wait. We can take our time with you until then."

"Hello, Newman." Jerry said as he locked eyes with Newman, even as his soldiers began falling in paint-splattered positions all around him.

"Hello, Jerry." Newman replied.

"See, that's how you do it!" Jerry shouted at Garrett, who was ducking and weaving over paint while screaming.

"I've been waiting for this for a long time." Newman whipped out two pistols.

"Yeah, so have I." Jerry replied as he and Newman began running around the room dual-wielding and firing at each other, every drop of paint they fired colliding in mid-air.

"Oh crap! HUMAAAAAAAN SHIEEEEEEEELD!" George screamed and grabbed Garrett to use as a human shield.

"Owieowieowie!" Garrett cried as paint splattered against him.

"Real leadership material there, George!" Jerry yelled as he grabbed one of his own troops and used them as a human shield, before taking a paint balloon they had strapped on their belt and throwing it square in Newman's face.

It bounced off without popping and bounced a bit more before exploding all over more of Seinfeld's own. Seinfeld dove behind cover in time to avoid the paint.

"Geez, Jerry, you throw like a Yankees pitcher!" Newman taunted him.

"Shut up, Newman! Don't you dare compare me to the Yankees! Mets for life!" Seinfeld cried.

"Some fan you are! You're a disgrace to the Mets and the rest of us Mets fan! I declare you an honorary Yankee Wankee!" Newman laughed.

"AAAAAAAAAA!" Seinfeld screamed and dove over his cover, firing all of his ammo as he did.

"GAAAAAAAAACCCCCCKPPPPPT!" Newman choked on the mouth full of paint Seinfeld had just filled him with.

"Yeah! Who's the little Yankee Wankee now, Newman!" Seinfeld reloaded and continued firing into Newman. He was about to teabag his nemesis before more of his old arch-enemies and one-time nemesises rushed him. Seinfeld sighed and dove to get behind cover.

"Woah woah woah! Someone help!" George cried as he pirouetted like a ballerina on hot coals to dodge paintballs that were being lobbed at him by a former line-up of the New York Yankees.

"I got you George!" Seinfeld fired dual-wielding in mid-air, taking out the Yankees before he landed. And also both George and his Uncle Leo too.

"JERRRRRRY! You got me too!" George screamed. Jerry shrugged.

"How could ya? This is anti-semitism, ya bastard! I always knew you were a self-hating Jew schmuck, Jerry!" Uncle Leo cursed as he wiped the paint off his shirt and angrily shook his fist at Seinfeld, who again just exasperatedly shrugged in response. "I'm tellin' yer parents and Nana about this!"

George then sheepishly raised some surrendering hands to the mob as members of it comprised mostly of people he'd pissed off over the years began to surround him. "Hey, I got tagged. I'm outta this game of paintball. Can I leave?"

"Yeah, you can leave. You're gonna leave in pieces." His old nemesis Lloyd Braun said as the mob closed in on a screaming George. They jumped on George and dogpiled him for a bit, only for George to scream sprout up like a sudden boner and throw them all away from him in a whirlwind like one of those movies where that kind of thing happens.

"I tried to show some sportsmanship but you all had to be sore winners! What is wrong with you people? WE ARE LIVING IN A SOCIETY!" George ranted as he began kicking random people while they were down.

"Huh." Kramer blinked as a stray bit of paint blew his cigar out of his mouth. He took a moment to register what had just happened before spasming out in a bit of shock before regaining his composure. "Jerry, I do believe it's time to run."

"Yeah, we should do that." Jerry agreed as he shot a few of his many exes as they charged him.

"It's every man for himself!" George screamed as he barreled towards the exit like a gorilla, knocking everyone out of his way like bowling pins, inadvertently clearing a path for Seinfeld and Kramer. The three men ran away, leaving their army to its fate.

"YOU CAN RUN BUT YOU CAN'T HIDE!" The vengeful Soup Nazi bellowed. "NO VICTORY, NO HOPE, NO ESCAPE FOR YOU!"