Day 7:

I must say, Journal, that my plans are going better than could have been anticipated.

The Ventriloquist was released from Arkham today- apparently, he made an almost complete turnaround. They even found him a place to live- the Wayne Halfway Home. I'm going to go visit him later, but I can't exactly say when- things have been quite busy around here.

What a morning I had! Doctor Arkham called me into his office to "congratulate you on Wesker's miraculous recovery. In fact, we're going to let you have a crack at some of our more... problematic patients today."

And that, Journal, is how I met Poison Ivy.

Posion brought two items to our meeting: a cloud of pheromones (Another thing that my "miracle drug" protects against. Sometimes I wonder, is there anything it doesn't do?) and an attitude the size of Topeka. Although clad in a prison jumpsuit, she acted just as if she had on that painted on bodysuit instead. She flopped on to the couch, and the histrionics began immediately. I won't repeat the entire conversation- a small segment will illustrate my point.

"...And then, after I kissed him- and this was the "fevery death" kiss, Batman just laughed! I don't get it! Men are all alike- so how'd he survive? It's alright, though- one day he'll change his mind, and he'll shower me with the attention and love I deserve. And then the other day with Harley Quinn..."

And so on. It was as if I was a potted plant- of course, Ivy would have at least said hello if I was. I began to wonder if Ivy's main psychological problem was just being a colossal bitch. I couldn't really tell what with her endless blabbing. Perhaps tomorrow I'll be able to get a word in edgewise.

The next patient on the agenda was Roxy Rocket. You've probably heard of type-T people- the kind of person who'll hitchhike across the country on a hundred bucks and a smile, or solo-jump a parachute on their first time out of the plane. Well, Roxy rocket was T squared, at least. Let me take you into our session.

She walked into the room, and, to my pleasant surprise after Ivy, actually said hello.

"Hello yourself. So, Roxy- may I call you Roxy? How did you decide to start committing crimes?" (Simple, but direct)

"Well, my stunt career was over, and it just didn't have the... spice it used to. I think that life isn't worth living without new and better thrills- speaking of which, it's almost time for my exit."

"What exit? We have almost an hour left!"

My hand crept into my pocket as I pulled out a pill and swallowed it- better be on the safe side. I felt my pulse quicken, and not a moment too soon: with a colossal rumble, an office wall collapsed.

I lay half-pinned under a pile of bricks as Roxy stepped towards the hole her rocket had made in the wall.

"Sorry about that, Doc."

A moment later, when she had stepped out of the building, I pushed the bricks off of me. I ran outside, just in time to hear a tremendous roar. Roxy was just managing to get her rocket started up.

I don't know what provoked me: perhaps a trace of Ivy's pheromones, or a spurt of recklessness, or maybe just plain orneriness, buf I did it anyway. Running after the retreating rocket, I made a flying leap and managed to catch a tailfin just as it was leaving the ground.

Hanging there, a few hundred feet above ground, by a tenuous, slipping grip, was the closest I had come to death in my whole superheroic career- and I wasn't even In costume! You can imagine my relief when a gloved hand reached down to pull me up.

"Well, what do we have here?" Setting the autopilot, she turned around to face me.

"What's a nice guy like you doing on a nasty rocket like this?"

Shouting over the noise of the rocket: "Um... the thrill?" (Well, at least my banter's improving.)

Suddenly, to my absolute and total surprise, she leaned in to give me a... kiss?

"Finally! You have no idea how hard it is to find a nice guy willing to drop from fifteen thousand feet without a parachute! Anyhow, we have plenty of time up here to-" Luckily, an ominous rumble from the rocket cut her off.

"Looks like we have to make an unscheduled landing. Hold on!"

I grabbed around Roxy's waist for dear life as we descended at an obscenely steep angle towards Nash Forest. Mere feet from the ground (or so it seemed at the time) we finally leveled out. She once more turned around, a gleam in her eye.

"So, Doc, how about a little-" THWAP! A tree branch caught Roxy in the back of the head, and it would have gotten me if I hadn't ducked.

Well, at least now you won't have to sucker punch her, my subconscious chuckled.

I managed to find the emergency stop controls, and it was only about half an hour before the Arkham orderlies showed up. As Roxy was loaded into the ambulance, she murmured,

"What a rush... Call me, Doc."

I chuckled. Nice girl, but crazy. But we'll see... wow, I really need to get a date- and soon.

If you thought my day was crazy, wait till you hear about my night! But that's another story for another time- like tomorrow morning. G'night.

The Dragonslayer (Does a rocket count as a dragon? It does fly, and it breathes fire... no, too narrow, and too D&D for my tastes. Must... find... codename...! Must stop talking like William Shatner too.)