COMMAND PERFORMANCE
by ejay
DISCLAIMER: "Batman," "The Joker" and "Gotham City" are not mine. They are owned by National Periodical Publications (aka DC Comics) which is owned by AOL-Time/Warner and are used without permission.
Ron Harris trudged up Finger Street dragging the heavy luggage transport with his folded-up table and suitcase filled with magic props strapped to it. He paused on the corner of Kane Street to catch he breath and check his bearings.
His mind went back to the evening in Gotham Square, the theatre district for Gotham City. The crowds had been brisk, even for a Friday night and Ron's act had gone over well. There could be as much as two hundred dollars in the hidden compartment of his suitcase. Not that he'd actually counted. it was not only considered gauche to count your take in front of the audience, but it was dangerous to flash very much cash in Gotham City, even if it was mostly ones and fives.
He had turned onto Kane Street, to work his way to Adams Court and his rooming house when a sedan cut off his path. The car, purple and green had two non-descript goons in the front seat and a shadowy figure in the back. The figure stepped out into the streetlight to reveal chalk-white skin and a shock of green hair. This was the Joker, the most deranged, homicidal killer in a city known for its bizarre villains. Poison Ivy, The Riddler, Two Face, all paled before the Crime Clown of Gotham!
"Well, well, well." Chortled the Joker. "A weary little busker wending his way home after an evening of entertaining the masses on the streets of Gotham. and what do you do my little man? A little song, a little dance, a little seltzer down the pants?" The Joker screeched in merriment at his own lame joke.
"I'm a magician." Said Ron.
"A magician?" questioned the Joker, his dark green eyebrows arched in surprise. "A magician?" He questioned again, turning to his associates.
"Uh, yeah boss. A magician." Said the larger of the two.
"Well, let me tell you something, Chuckles." Snarled the Joker. His customary grin twisting with malice. "I don't like magicians, never have. They're all nasty little rabbit pullers ruining perfectly good decks of cards. If I wasn't such a decent law-abiding citizen, I would make it my pleasure to rid Gotham of one more parasitic magician!" The Joker turned to go.
Just as Ron began to think he could remember how to breathe, the Joker turned back to him.
"Wait a minute," he said, drawing a huge pistol out from his purple coat. "I just remembered. I'm NOT a decent law-abiding citizen!"
Ron felt his insides go cold as he realized that he was about to die on a dirty Gotham street for no good reason than to amuse a homicidal maniac. As the Joker pulled the hammer back, Ron felt something inside of him snap.
"All right!" he snapped at the Joker. "You've been burnt by bad magicians. I don't blame you; I've seen some pretty bad examples myself. But I can guarantee you that I'm better, more imaginative and more original than any you've seen before. And I can prove it!"
The Joker seemed amused by Ron's outburst. "Oh, really?" he said. "And just how do you intend to do that?"
Ron thought quickly. "Three of you, three tricks. If at the end of that, you don't agree I'm the best you've seen, fine. But if you do agree I'm better than anyone you've seen before, you don't kill me."
The Joker considered Ron's offer. "All right Chuckles," he said, finally. "But you better make them good."
Ron didn't waste any time, he turned to the first hood, the one who'd spoken earlier.
"Think of a number from one to fifty two." Already the Joker was looking bored.
"Don't tell me the number you thought of, but answer my question. was it five?"
The thug actually had to think about it. "Um, no." he finally answered.
"Good," responded Ron. "I want you to count off as many cards as you thought of." Ron counted off five cards as an example. "Look at the card that's there, show it to your boss and your friend there, and put the whole pile back on top of the deck." He handed the deck to the thug, hoping he hadn't made a mistake.
Ron turned his back and waited for what seemed a lifetime. Finally he heard the thug say, "uh, OK."
He turned back and took the deck from the thug. Fanning the cards, he looked into the thugs' vacant eyes and pulled a card out of the deck, placing it into his pocket.
"Now, don't tell me the card you saw," warned Ron. "But I want you to tell me how many cards you counted."
"Uh, five?" answered the thug.
The Joker sighed; "No, Louis. It was seven."
Ron counted out seven cards into the thug's hands. hoping against hope that the Joker had been right and wasn't just trying to screw up the trick. Finally, he turned over the seventh card, it was the four of clubs.
"Was that your card?" Ron asked Louis.
"Um, I don't think so. Was it boss?" asked Louis to Ron's despair.
"No, Louis." Explained the Joker patiently. "You picked the Ten of Diamonds. Oh," he said, covering his mouth. "Did I spoil something?" He didn't look all that upset at the idea.
"Not really," said Ron, reaching into his pants pocket with an empty hand and pulling out the Ten of Diamonds.
"Hey, yeah!" said Louis, happily. "That was it!"
"OK Chuckles, you got one." Admitted the Joker. "It dragged a little and Louis here wasn't exactly the perfect subject to start with, but there it is. Now what?"
Ron wouldn't let the Joker get on his nerves. He turned to the second thug and spread out the cards in as even a fan as he could manage with shaking hands.
"Ooooh, pick a card, any card at all!" minced the Joker. "I think we've all seen this one."
"It may start like any other trick," said Ron, handing the thug a pen to write his name over his card. "But I guarantee you, it's going to end like none of them." He cut the deck to allow the thug to put his card back in the middle, then replaced the top half of the deck. "I'm going to do three things with your card." Ron said, placing the deck behind his back. "First, I'm going to find your card from behind my back."
He pulled out a card, surprising the Joker by placing the rest of the deck in his hands.
"Now," continued Ron, "I'm going to tell you what your card is without looking at it." He rubbed the face down surface of the card with one finger. "Hmmm," he said. "Small card, black, no sharp points, I have to say it was the three of clubs."
"Hey, that's right!" said the nondescript gunman.
"O.K., Chuckles." Snorted the Joker. "When does it start to get interesting?"
"Right here." Ron responded. He folded up the card without showing its face and proceeded to tear it in two. Then he took the two pieces and tore them into four. Finally ripping the four pieces into eight, he reached in the mess and pulled out a small piece of card from the corner, on it were a three and a club.
"Would you keep this please as a receipt?" Ron said, handing the small corner to the thug.
Placing the rest of the pieces into his other hand, Ron reached into his pocket for the lucky talisman he'd carried since high school. He certainly hoped it was lucky now. He rubbed the closed fist with the talisman, and then open the fist over the deck of cards to reveal the pieces had vanished.
Taking the deck from the Joker, he said. "Now somewhere in this deck there's a face up card." He glanced up, behind his menacing audience, Ron could see a homeless man staggering up the street. He hoped the man kept moving. he'd spent too much effort getting the Joker's attention to have the moment ruined now. As he spread the cards out in his hands, a white surface gleamed in the middle of the blue backs.
"It's the three of clubs." Sure enough, it was.
"There's a signature on it." It seemed the nameless gunman's identity would remain unknown, Ron couldn't read the scrawl on the card. But the Joker's lackey could.
"Hey, that's me!" He responded happily.
"And there's one corner of the card missing." Ron drew out the card to show the missing corner and held it to the piece held by the gunman. It was a perfect match. "Wow!" The second gunman exclaimed. Ron handed him the card. He placed the rest of the deck back in its' box and placed it into his inside coat pocket.
"Well, well, Chuckles." Drawled the Joker. "Seems like your two for two." His face grew hard. "But now you've got ME to deal with! And whatever you've got in mind had better be bulletproof!"
Ron looked into the Joker's ice-blue eyes without fear. Win or lose, he'd done the best he could and now he was going to perform the trick of his life. Reaching into his coat, he pulled the deck of cards from his shirt pocket. Turning one card face up; he displayed it to the Joker. "Four of hearts," he said, glancing down at the deck.
The street bum had disappeared, probably into the back of the alley to sleep it off. Ron breathed a silent sigh of relief; that would be one less hassle to have to deal with.
He looked back at the Joker. "Would it be alright if I placed the four of hearts under your lapel?" He asked gesturing as the purple suit where a bright white carnation rested.
"Well, I don't usually on the first date. but what the Hell!" replied the Joker. Ron flipped the four of hearts face down, slid the top card off the deck and slipped its' corner under the Joker's lapel.
"Watch the tubing Chuckles!" Warned the Joker. Ron didn't allow himself to rise to the bait.
The card sat in the lapel like a bizarre campaign button.
Ron flipped over the next card in the deck, ".and my card will be. the joker!" Sure enough, a garish clown face, similar to the Joker's own, sat face up on the deck. "Hold it, Chuckles!" snarled the Joker. "If anybody's going to use the joker in a card trick, it's going to be me!" He started to reach for the card in his lapel.
Ron's hand stopped the Clown's hand in its' track. Louis and the second thug looked stunned as if no one had ever touched the boss before and probably no one ever had. But Ron had to be willing to gamble; his life was at stake.
"Are you certain?" He asked the Joker.
The Joker seemed shaken by Ron's confidence, but rallied himself. "You're darn tootin'" he replied. "A face like this calls for certain perks and one of them is that the joker is MY card!" But he put his hand down, curious to see what Ron would do. "Very well then," said Ron, flipping over the joker on top of the deck and snapping the top of the deck with his middle finger. "I'll take the four of hearts!"
The three criminals looked stunned, as the four of hearts, which should be under the Joker's lapel, appeared face up on the top of the deck. The Joker looked down at the card sitting in his lapel and then reached up with a gloved hand and removed it. It was the joker.
The two gunsels watched carefully for their boss' reaction. A low, mirthless laugh filled the night air.
"Oh, that was good kid, that was very good!" Chortled the Joker. He displayed the namesake card in his hand. "Can I keep this?"
"Of course." Ron said, trying to keep his voice steady.
"Well then, you're going to have to sign it." The Joker handed him the card.
Ron thought for a moment and then wrote across the card face; "To the Crown Prince of misdirection, from a rank amateur," and signed his name across the bottom. "Excellent my boy." Grinned the Joker as he received the card. "And this is for your troubles." He slipped Ron a bill.
True to the code of the street, after saying thank you, Ron slipped the bill into his shirt pocket without looking at it.
"And now, true to my word, I'm not going to kill you." The Joker turned to get back into his car. Ron began to breathe normally again when the Joker replied. "Louis will do it for me."
"WHAT!" Shouted Ron, shocked beyond all response.
"Oh yeah, sometimes you just gotta watch that fine print there kid. But I gotta say, that was some good magic!" He handed the gun to the bigger of the two gunmen.
"Aw, boss, do I gotta?" Louis asked.
"Louis." warned the Joker.
Louis turned to Ron with the big gun in his hands, sad regret on his face.
"I'm sorry kid, I liked it, I really did." He raised the gun.
A pair of lights appeared in the distance and a deep-throated roar was heard.
"The Batmobile!" rasped the Joker. "No time for fun now, Louis!"
The Joker leaped into his sedan followed by the nameless gunman and a surprised but cheerful Louis. The car raced away followed by the ominous black shape of the Batmobile.
Ron looked around. It seemed as if nothing had happened. He turned to gather up his cart before the Joker decided to come back.
"I've been having some problems locating the Joker's latest hideout." Came a deep voice from behind him. Ron turned to see the Batman standing not more than a foot away.
"Gaaah!" Exclaimed Ron. "You guys just keep sneaking up on people!" Batman acted as if scaring the daylights out of a person was an everyday occurrence for him. And in fact, Ron thought, it probably was.
"Your little stunt here gave me time to slip a homing beacon onto his car." Ron thought about the street person staggering up the street and examining the ugly sedan. He would never doubt the stories about Batman's abilities as a disguise artist again.
"Well, that wasn't exactly what I had in mind. But I'm glad I was able to help." Ron thought for a second. "Hey, I thought you were chasing him."
The Batman held up a small box with a flashing red light. "Remote control," he explained. "When I saw it going bad I thought you could use a distraction. The car'll chase the Joker for a few blocks and then he'll congratulate himself on having lost me." He pressed a button on the box and said, "home."
Batman looked at the young magician. "You did some good work there," he said. "I recognized Hay's 'Amateur Magician's Handbook' and I think I saw a restaurant magician in Massachusetts perform that trick with the torn card. That last one. the handling almost looked like John Scarne."
"Thanks," responded Ron, startled to learn of Batman's grasp of magic and sleight of hand. "I saw Scarne do something like that in a beer commercial on TV. I had to work out my own handling." Then he frowned. "Wait a minute." Said Ron. "If the Joker was going to kill me anyway, why give me a bill?"
"You learn not to ask too many question of the Joker," responded Batman. "You just hold on and run with the ride." In the distance, Ron could hear the rumble of the Batmobile as it returned. "What did he give you anyway?"
Ron fished out the bill. "A hundred!" He exclaimed. "Do you suppose it's any good?"
Batman took the bill and ran an ultra-violet light over it. "The Joker hasn't run any counterfeiting scams for quite a while. Lately he's been knocking over drug houses and stealing their takes. I'd say it's OK to keep the bill. you can certainly do better with it than the original owners." He returned the hundred to Ron.
The Batmobile pulled up behind the Dark Knight and its' cockpit like door popped open. As Batman got into the car he had one last thing to say to Ron.
"Keep your wits up and your eyes open from now on," he said. "Gotham City can be a nasty place at night." The door hissed shut and the Batmobile sped off into the night. Ron watched until the flame from the car was swallowed up by the night and the city.
Then, he picked up his case and trudged the rest of the way home.
Well, there it is, the very first fan-fiction I ever finished. Please be kind.
DISCLAIMER: "Batman," "The Joker" and "Gotham City" are not mine. They are owned by National Periodical Publications (aka DC Comics) which is owned by AOL-Time/Warner and are used without permission.
Ron Harris trudged up Finger Street dragging the heavy luggage transport with his folded-up table and suitcase filled with magic props strapped to it. He paused on the corner of Kane Street to catch he breath and check his bearings.
His mind went back to the evening in Gotham Square, the theatre district for Gotham City. The crowds had been brisk, even for a Friday night and Ron's act had gone over well. There could be as much as two hundred dollars in the hidden compartment of his suitcase. Not that he'd actually counted. it was not only considered gauche to count your take in front of the audience, but it was dangerous to flash very much cash in Gotham City, even if it was mostly ones and fives.
He had turned onto Kane Street, to work his way to Adams Court and his rooming house when a sedan cut off his path. The car, purple and green had two non-descript goons in the front seat and a shadowy figure in the back. The figure stepped out into the streetlight to reveal chalk-white skin and a shock of green hair. This was the Joker, the most deranged, homicidal killer in a city known for its bizarre villains. Poison Ivy, The Riddler, Two Face, all paled before the Crime Clown of Gotham!
"Well, well, well." Chortled the Joker. "A weary little busker wending his way home after an evening of entertaining the masses on the streets of Gotham. and what do you do my little man? A little song, a little dance, a little seltzer down the pants?" The Joker screeched in merriment at his own lame joke.
"I'm a magician." Said Ron.
"A magician?" questioned the Joker, his dark green eyebrows arched in surprise. "A magician?" He questioned again, turning to his associates.
"Uh, yeah boss. A magician." Said the larger of the two.
"Well, let me tell you something, Chuckles." Snarled the Joker. His customary grin twisting with malice. "I don't like magicians, never have. They're all nasty little rabbit pullers ruining perfectly good decks of cards. If I wasn't such a decent law-abiding citizen, I would make it my pleasure to rid Gotham of one more parasitic magician!" The Joker turned to go.
Just as Ron began to think he could remember how to breathe, the Joker turned back to him.
"Wait a minute," he said, drawing a huge pistol out from his purple coat. "I just remembered. I'm NOT a decent law-abiding citizen!"
Ron felt his insides go cold as he realized that he was about to die on a dirty Gotham street for no good reason than to amuse a homicidal maniac. As the Joker pulled the hammer back, Ron felt something inside of him snap.
"All right!" he snapped at the Joker. "You've been burnt by bad magicians. I don't blame you; I've seen some pretty bad examples myself. But I can guarantee you that I'm better, more imaginative and more original than any you've seen before. And I can prove it!"
The Joker seemed amused by Ron's outburst. "Oh, really?" he said. "And just how do you intend to do that?"
Ron thought quickly. "Three of you, three tricks. If at the end of that, you don't agree I'm the best you've seen, fine. But if you do agree I'm better than anyone you've seen before, you don't kill me."
The Joker considered Ron's offer. "All right Chuckles," he said, finally. "But you better make them good."
Ron didn't waste any time, he turned to the first hood, the one who'd spoken earlier.
"Think of a number from one to fifty two." Already the Joker was looking bored.
"Don't tell me the number you thought of, but answer my question. was it five?"
The thug actually had to think about it. "Um, no." he finally answered.
"Good," responded Ron. "I want you to count off as many cards as you thought of." Ron counted off five cards as an example. "Look at the card that's there, show it to your boss and your friend there, and put the whole pile back on top of the deck." He handed the deck to the thug, hoping he hadn't made a mistake.
Ron turned his back and waited for what seemed a lifetime. Finally he heard the thug say, "uh, OK."
He turned back and took the deck from the thug. Fanning the cards, he looked into the thugs' vacant eyes and pulled a card out of the deck, placing it into his pocket.
"Now, don't tell me the card you saw," warned Ron. "But I want you to tell me how many cards you counted."
"Uh, five?" answered the thug.
The Joker sighed; "No, Louis. It was seven."
Ron counted out seven cards into the thug's hands. hoping against hope that the Joker had been right and wasn't just trying to screw up the trick. Finally, he turned over the seventh card, it was the four of clubs.
"Was that your card?" Ron asked Louis.
"Um, I don't think so. Was it boss?" asked Louis to Ron's despair.
"No, Louis." Explained the Joker patiently. "You picked the Ten of Diamonds. Oh," he said, covering his mouth. "Did I spoil something?" He didn't look all that upset at the idea.
"Not really," said Ron, reaching into his pants pocket with an empty hand and pulling out the Ten of Diamonds.
"Hey, yeah!" said Louis, happily. "That was it!"
"OK Chuckles, you got one." Admitted the Joker. "It dragged a little and Louis here wasn't exactly the perfect subject to start with, but there it is. Now what?"
Ron wouldn't let the Joker get on his nerves. He turned to the second thug and spread out the cards in as even a fan as he could manage with shaking hands.
"Ooooh, pick a card, any card at all!" minced the Joker. "I think we've all seen this one."
"It may start like any other trick," said Ron, handing the thug a pen to write his name over his card. "But I guarantee you, it's going to end like none of them." He cut the deck to allow the thug to put his card back in the middle, then replaced the top half of the deck. "I'm going to do three things with your card." Ron said, placing the deck behind his back. "First, I'm going to find your card from behind my back."
He pulled out a card, surprising the Joker by placing the rest of the deck in his hands.
"Now," continued Ron, "I'm going to tell you what your card is without looking at it." He rubbed the face down surface of the card with one finger. "Hmmm," he said. "Small card, black, no sharp points, I have to say it was the three of clubs."
"Hey, that's right!" said the nondescript gunman.
"O.K., Chuckles." Snorted the Joker. "When does it start to get interesting?"
"Right here." Ron responded. He folded up the card without showing its face and proceeded to tear it in two. Then he took the two pieces and tore them into four. Finally ripping the four pieces into eight, he reached in the mess and pulled out a small piece of card from the corner, on it were a three and a club.
"Would you keep this please as a receipt?" Ron said, handing the small corner to the thug.
Placing the rest of the pieces into his other hand, Ron reached into his pocket for the lucky talisman he'd carried since high school. He certainly hoped it was lucky now. He rubbed the closed fist with the talisman, and then open the fist over the deck of cards to reveal the pieces had vanished.
Taking the deck from the Joker, he said. "Now somewhere in this deck there's a face up card." He glanced up, behind his menacing audience, Ron could see a homeless man staggering up the street. He hoped the man kept moving. he'd spent too much effort getting the Joker's attention to have the moment ruined now. As he spread the cards out in his hands, a white surface gleamed in the middle of the blue backs.
"It's the three of clubs." Sure enough, it was.
"There's a signature on it." It seemed the nameless gunman's identity would remain unknown, Ron couldn't read the scrawl on the card. But the Joker's lackey could.
"Hey, that's me!" He responded happily.
"And there's one corner of the card missing." Ron drew out the card to show the missing corner and held it to the piece held by the gunman. It was a perfect match. "Wow!" The second gunman exclaimed. Ron handed him the card. He placed the rest of the deck back in its' box and placed it into his inside coat pocket.
"Well, well, Chuckles." Drawled the Joker. "Seems like your two for two." His face grew hard. "But now you've got ME to deal with! And whatever you've got in mind had better be bulletproof!"
Ron looked into the Joker's ice-blue eyes without fear. Win or lose, he'd done the best he could and now he was going to perform the trick of his life. Reaching into his coat, he pulled the deck of cards from his shirt pocket. Turning one card face up; he displayed it to the Joker. "Four of hearts," he said, glancing down at the deck.
The street bum had disappeared, probably into the back of the alley to sleep it off. Ron breathed a silent sigh of relief; that would be one less hassle to have to deal with.
He looked back at the Joker. "Would it be alright if I placed the four of hearts under your lapel?" He asked gesturing as the purple suit where a bright white carnation rested.
"Well, I don't usually on the first date. but what the Hell!" replied the Joker. Ron flipped the four of hearts face down, slid the top card off the deck and slipped its' corner under the Joker's lapel.
"Watch the tubing Chuckles!" Warned the Joker. Ron didn't allow himself to rise to the bait.
The card sat in the lapel like a bizarre campaign button.
Ron flipped over the next card in the deck, ".and my card will be. the joker!" Sure enough, a garish clown face, similar to the Joker's own, sat face up on the deck. "Hold it, Chuckles!" snarled the Joker. "If anybody's going to use the joker in a card trick, it's going to be me!" He started to reach for the card in his lapel.
Ron's hand stopped the Clown's hand in its' track. Louis and the second thug looked stunned as if no one had ever touched the boss before and probably no one ever had. But Ron had to be willing to gamble; his life was at stake.
"Are you certain?" He asked the Joker.
The Joker seemed shaken by Ron's confidence, but rallied himself. "You're darn tootin'" he replied. "A face like this calls for certain perks and one of them is that the joker is MY card!" But he put his hand down, curious to see what Ron would do. "Very well then," said Ron, flipping over the joker on top of the deck and snapping the top of the deck with his middle finger. "I'll take the four of hearts!"
The three criminals looked stunned, as the four of hearts, which should be under the Joker's lapel, appeared face up on the top of the deck. The Joker looked down at the card sitting in his lapel and then reached up with a gloved hand and removed it. It was the joker.
The two gunsels watched carefully for their boss' reaction. A low, mirthless laugh filled the night air.
"Oh, that was good kid, that was very good!" Chortled the Joker. He displayed the namesake card in his hand. "Can I keep this?"
"Of course." Ron said, trying to keep his voice steady.
"Well then, you're going to have to sign it." The Joker handed him the card.
Ron thought for a moment and then wrote across the card face; "To the Crown Prince of misdirection, from a rank amateur," and signed his name across the bottom. "Excellent my boy." Grinned the Joker as he received the card. "And this is for your troubles." He slipped Ron a bill.
True to the code of the street, after saying thank you, Ron slipped the bill into his shirt pocket without looking at it.
"And now, true to my word, I'm not going to kill you." The Joker turned to get back into his car. Ron began to breathe normally again when the Joker replied. "Louis will do it for me."
"WHAT!" Shouted Ron, shocked beyond all response.
"Oh yeah, sometimes you just gotta watch that fine print there kid. But I gotta say, that was some good magic!" He handed the gun to the bigger of the two gunmen.
"Aw, boss, do I gotta?" Louis asked.
"Louis." warned the Joker.
Louis turned to Ron with the big gun in his hands, sad regret on his face.
"I'm sorry kid, I liked it, I really did." He raised the gun.
A pair of lights appeared in the distance and a deep-throated roar was heard.
"The Batmobile!" rasped the Joker. "No time for fun now, Louis!"
The Joker leaped into his sedan followed by the nameless gunman and a surprised but cheerful Louis. The car raced away followed by the ominous black shape of the Batmobile.
Ron looked around. It seemed as if nothing had happened. He turned to gather up his cart before the Joker decided to come back.
"I've been having some problems locating the Joker's latest hideout." Came a deep voice from behind him. Ron turned to see the Batman standing not more than a foot away.
"Gaaah!" Exclaimed Ron. "You guys just keep sneaking up on people!" Batman acted as if scaring the daylights out of a person was an everyday occurrence for him. And in fact, Ron thought, it probably was.
"Your little stunt here gave me time to slip a homing beacon onto his car." Ron thought about the street person staggering up the street and examining the ugly sedan. He would never doubt the stories about Batman's abilities as a disguise artist again.
"Well, that wasn't exactly what I had in mind. But I'm glad I was able to help." Ron thought for a second. "Hey, I thought you were chasing him."
The Batman held up a small box with a flashing red light. "Remote control," he explained. "When I saw it going bad I thought you could use a distraction. The car'll chase the Joker for a few blocks and then he'll congratulate himself on having lost me." He pressed a button on the box and said, "home."
Batman looked at the young magician. "You did some good work there," he said. "I recognized Hay's 'Amateur Magician's Handbook' and I think I saw a restaurant magician in Massachusetts perform that trick with the torn card. That last one. the handling almost looked like John Scarne."
"Thanks," responded Ron, startled to learn of Batman's grasp of magic and sleight of hand. "I saw Scarne do something like that in a beer commercial on TV. I had to work out my own handling." Then he frowned. "Wait a minute." Said Ron. "If the Joker was going to kill me anyway, why give me a bill?"
"You learn not to ask too many question of the Joker," responded Batman. "You just hold on and run with the ride." In the distance, Ron could hear the rumble of the Batmobile as it returned. "What did he give you anyway?"
Ron fished out the bill. "A hundred!" He exclaimed. "Do you suppose it's any good?"
Batman took the bill and ran an ultra-violet light over it. "The Joker hasn't run any counterfeiting scams for quite a while. Lately he's been knocking over drug houses and stealing their takes. I'd say it's OK to keep the bill. you can certainly do better with it than the original owners." He returned the hundred to Ron.
The Batmobile pulled up behind the Dark Knight and its' cockpit like door popped open. As Batman got into the car he had one last thing to say to Ron.
"Keep your wits up and your eyes open from now on," he said. "Gotham City can be a nasty place at night." The door hissed shut and the Batmobile sped off into the night. Ron watched until the flame from the car was swallowed up by the night and the city.
Then, he picked up his case and trudged the rest of the way home.
Well, there it is, the very first fan-fiction I ever finished. Please be kind.