The vines around the Joker began to untangle themselves, pulling away until the clown's body dropped to the floor.

Batman stared numbly at it. This man was the cause of so much death and destruction; this man who preyed upon the fears and anxieties of others; this man that had no sense of decency in him.

Even now the vigilante could see Hugo Strange putting the bullet in him, killing him in an instant. It was so fast that the maniac hadn't realized he had been shot for several seconds before he slumped in his restraints.

"Puddin!" Harley screamed as she struggled against her own vines. "No! No, no, no!" Next to her, Poison Ivy just looked at her bemused, not the least bit affected by the murder.

Murder. That's what this was. It wasn't the who that was affecting the Dark Knight, it was the act itself. His daze, slowly at first but with growing furiosity, turned into anger. Fury screamed in his ears as he set his sights on the mad psychiatrist.

He moved as quick as lightning. He slapped the gun out of Strange's hand with a single blow, grabbing onto his shirt with the other. Pulling back his extended arm, he then threw a punch that slammed into the older man's face, snapping his head to one side.

"Why, Strange?!" he roared as he leveled him with another punch. He refused to let the man slump to the floor, keeping him upright as best as he could with one hand. Strange's knees gave with the next blow and he dropped down, but he didn't fall too far. Again, Batman's grip on his shirt held him up so that he dangled like a rag doll.

"That's right, Batsy!" Harley cheered. "Beat him to a pulp! Kill that bald son of a bitch!"

While he could have done without the cheering section, Quinn's words slowed him down for a moment. He had no intention of killing this man, not as casually as Strange had done to the Joker. He would hurt him though; he would hurt him as badly as Dent had done. That definitely had some appeal.

So he punched the man again, pulling back his fist once again. However, as he began to swing it, he felt his arm jerk to a stop, which caused him to snap his head to one side. Wrapped around his raised arm were Ivy's vines; in fact, they were the same ones that had held onto the Joker just moments ago. They were creeping down his forearm to his bicep, but had stopped there. The message was clear: stop, or he would find himself just as helpless as the Joker had.

"My, now that was quite the emotional response," he heard Strange remark, which caused the dark-clad man to return his attention to him. The shrink was getting his feet back beneath him, one hand raised to readjust his glasses on his face. A triumphant smile was growing on his face in spite of the swelling that was forming on the side of his face. There was a trickle of blood running from the corner of his mouth and into his beard, staining it red.

As he stood up, Strange took a step back, pulling himself away from Batman and out of his grip. "Tell me, Batman, why did you see fit to punch me?" he inquired, though his tone indicated he already knew the answer, or at least the answer he believed to be true. "Take your time to formulate your words; I want to hear how you phrase this."

"You killed a man," Batman growled from between clenched teeth. "You murdered him right here in front of me. What did you expect to happen?"

"Oh, I believe there are some that would debate you on the description of the Joker as a man," Strange responded. "Many view him as a monster and those same people would have cheered my killing of him. In fact, once this gets out, I fully expect to receive many letters praising my act."

"It doesn't matter who it is!" Batman roared at him. "This man is dead because of you! There is nothing righteous about murder!"

The fallen psychiatrist gazed at him coolly before he said, "Curious, you are more fixated on the act rather than the victim. Poison Ivy, if you would?"

Batman turned his attention to the redhead, just in time to see a vine move in front of Harley Quinn's throat. Sharp thrones grew from the vine's flesh, the points poking into the clown girl's throat even as she leaned her head back as far as she could.

"Now, it would only take Ivy's will, a literal whim, for her to execute the Joker's flunky," Strange explained. "If I were to believe your outburst, you would be against her killing, correct?"

"Stop it," Batman growled lowly, his voice more guttural than human. "Stop this now, Strange."

A pleased smile appeared on his face. "I do not believe you care too much about these jesters' deaths as you are making yourself out to be. It's their loss that is distressing you so. Without them, what rival would you have to proclaim your superiority?"

"This has nothing to do with who is better than who!"

"Oh, but it is." Strange moved right up to him so that their faces were mere inches away. "That's what this has always been about. All of the costumes and personalities that have emerged since your first appearance has been about this. You fought the Iceman for control of this city; you battled the Joker to protect it from his madness and garnered yourself quite the accolades. You even held off the fabled Court of Owls, a bulwark against their dominion of this city. I could go on and on, including your battles with Harvey Dent and Bane, but it would be redundant at this point as I have clearly made mine. Your only concern isn't the death of the Joker, but the death his presence represents to your legacy."

"What a fascinating observation," Poison Ivy chimed in.

"It perfectly explains your reluctance to simply kill what the world perceives as your 'rogues gallery'," Strange continued. "But there is one flaw in this plan of yours—that I was included as a rival of yours. You have proven yourself a worthy foe, but it is I, Hugo Strange, that has proven himself the superior man."

Batman stared at him. It was the same song and dance with this man, his ever-present need to prove himself the pinnacle of human intellect. It was a game he had grown sick of because others had adopted his philosophy, the Riddler most prominent.

But if Strange wanted to go down this path, then he was going to find that he was just as flawed as all of the other Arkham patients.

"You're deluded, Strange," the Dark Knight said bluntly. "All of this isn't some display of who the better man is—it's to feed that ego of yours. You've been doing it for so long, you don't even recognize it."

"If that is all you have been able to deduce, I am quite disappointed in you," Strange told him.

"Then explain why you killed the Joker? Why there was antagonism between the two of you? Don't worry, you don't have to answer that. I will." Batman straightened out his posture, even though his arm was still held up above his shoulder. "It's simple really: the Joker challenged your intellect, ridiculing you at your own expense. You brushed off his insults because you first believed him to be someone hopelessly lost in their insanity. But then, you discovered there was a logic to his madness and you couldn't stand it."

Strange chuckled. "And why would I have difficulty accepting the Joker's madness?"

"Because it meant that someone you once viewed as a lesser being was a lot smarter than you gave him credit for. In fact, you came to realize he was smarter than you. After all of the plots you devised, the ones that affect the city the most came from this deranged clown. He had achieved a level of infamy you, a self-proclaimed genius, hadn't been granted. And if that wasn't worse, you discovered that me, the person you thought most worthy to challenge, considered him a greater threat than you."

The psychiatrist was silent for several moments. "That is an intriguing line of thought," he admitted after awhile. "It makes me wonder just what sort of psychiatrist you could have been. Of course, your damaged mind would not have the patience for it."

He then sighed. "But I see you are still missing the bigger picture. I do admit that there was antagonism between the Joker and I. In all of his chaos, he thought I was the lesser between us and that was simply not true. Dialogue could not persuade him, so evidence was needed."

Batman held back a snort. Strange was basically repeating what he had said, only giving his own slight twist to it. His narcissism was so complete that he refused to admit when someone had him pegged.

"And tonight, I have the ultimate evidence," Strange proclaimed then. "Not only have I ended his life, I proved that I am not only superior to him, but to you as well. I have done what you could not and definitively put an end to him. For all of time, it will not be the name of the Batman that is praised, but mine."

A fanatical expression appeared on his face. "You will be forgotten to time, an anecdote at best; the same with the Joker. This very night, I have once and for all proven that the superior mind is I, Hugo—"

BANG!

A hole exploded through the right side of the psychiatrist's chest, blood splattering over Batman. The insane look on his face went slack.

"...Strange…"

And then he slumped forward. Batman moved towards him and caught him with one arm, slowly lowering him to the floor. Ivy's vines didn't let him go, but they did grow long enough so that he could kneel. There was an incredulous look on Strange's face as he gazed down at the blood pouring out of his bullet wound.

That's when they all heard it. It started low, but slowly grew in volume.

"Hee, hee, hee, hee, ha, ha, ha. Ha! Ha, ha, ha, ha!"


Compared to the hoard of plant monsters they had encountered at Robinson Park, the ones Huntress found herself fighting were hardly a challenge.

As one blob of leaves meandered over—something that was attempting to look like a dog, but had small legs, no tail, and its head was just off putting—Huntress swung her bo staff, knocking it onto its side, where its stubby legs kicked over and over to try and get back up. For added measure, she planted a foot and swung her other leg, punting it across the roof.

Next was a half-crab, half-bear thing. It was the size of a bear and one side had the usual bear arm and leg. The other side had a giant pincer and several crab legs scuttling as fast as they could move. It lumbered towards her and the vigilante merely pulled out an H-shaped shuriken, and threw it. The shuriken sliced right through the thin crab legs, causing the plant creature to topple onto its side, awkwardly trying to use its oversized pincer arm to push it back up, but was unable to get its bear legs positioned right.

God, this was boring. The only thing that was making her work up a sweat was the sheer number. A glance to Manhunter showed she wasn't too overwhelmed by everything. In fact, she had one end of her staff glowing, gathering power for a blast that was never fired. Instead, she made certain to hit each plant creature she fought with that end of her staff, the glowing energy causing them to begin smoldering, if not lighting them on fire.

All the while, the Mad Hatter fretted as he watched.

"No, no! This isn't how it was supposed to go," he fussed. "Rally yourselves and fight, damn you!"

Sensing one of the malformed creatures creeping up on her from behind, Huntress raised her staff up and jabbed it backwards, the end spearing whatever was trying to attack her. Feeling that her staff was stuck in it, she then began spinning around in a circle, twirling until it slid off her weapon and went flying through the air, where it crashed into another of its kind.

"Not going the way you thought it would, huh?" the dark-haired woman called out as she stopped her spinning, earning herself the creepy man's attention. "What did you think would happen by going up against two women who can kick some major ass?"

"If you believe this is the end, you are sadly mistaken," the man sneered. He pointed up to the sky, where the Man-Bat was circling around. "If my guards are of no use, perhaps the queen will send your heads rolling!"

As if in response, something collided with the Mad Hatter's back, causing him to cry out as he went stumbling forward until he fell onto the ground. Suddenly, the Man-Bat stopped its circling, immediately snarling before it descended back down to the plaza below. There was a faint ringing sound in Huntress' ears, so she figured Canary might have had something to do with the Mad Hatter's inglorious tumble.

Strolling up to the man, Huntress used her staff to casually knock the top hat off of his head. Instantly, the other malformed plant creatures stopped moving, standing in place like bushes as they made odd sounds. "So, without your hat, you have no control," the purple-clad vigilante remarked. "So tell me, what do you—"

BBBBBRRRRRRRAAAAAAAANNNNNNNGGGGGG!

Huntress and Mad Hatter immediately snapped their heads up to look towards the ledge of the roof. Manhunter was on the move then, damn near sprinting until she stopped at the ledge. "Oh, shit," she cursed. "It's the Iceman!"

Huntress wanted to look, but she didn't want to leave the Mad Hatter. He could get his hands back on his hat and they'd be back at whatever boring fight they were at. So she retracted the ends of her staff back into its base and put it back in its holster on her belt. Kneeling down, she roughly grabbed the man and forced him onto his feet, damn near dragging him to the ledge.

The moment they reached it, they saw there was a long wall of jagged ice crossing the plaza. It stopped right at the wall next to the doors of the theater. Where it started stood a man in what looked like a giant space suit, one that was freezing the Man-Bat into a giant ice figure.

Oh shit was right.

"Well, good job, Hatter," Huntress congratulated sarcastically. "You and your friends just brought out the new and improved Iceman. I was barely there for your little meeting at Robinson, but I'm pretty certain he felt the need for an upgrade if that suit is any indication."

The color in the Mad Hatter's face had drained out, leaving it pale. "He's...he's going to kill us all! You have to let me go!"

"No, he's here to kill you and your pals," Manhunter pointed out. "He'll only kill the rest of us if we get in his way."

"You can't let him do that!" the blond man wailed.

"Then consider yourself lucky Batman wants you taken in alive," Manhunter told him. "Otherwise, after the mess you and the other Arkham residents have caused, I'd be more inclined to let the Iceman have you." She then looked to Huntress. "So what do we do?"

"We need to warn the others if they already didn't know," she responded. "Not to mention we need to get out of the open. The Iceman has too much of an advantage from long range." Unfortunately, she wasn't certain where they could go except into the theater. Perhaps they could bar the way in.

She resisted the urge to sigh. After seeing the man's handiwork, she had to wonder just how Batman beat him the first time. This guy was a force of nature and he had only made himself stronger since their last encounter.

Hitting her comm link, Huntress shouted, "Everyone! Into the theater! We can't fight this guy head on!"

Not waiting for confirmation, Huntress pulled out her grapple and fired it right into the roof. Making sure she had a good grip on the Mad Hatter, she jumped off the ledge, the little man screaming as they fell to the ground below. All the while, she held the trigger of the grapple, which allowed more and more cable to come out. It wasn't until they neared the ground that she released the button that the grapple began to apply friction to the cable and slow them down, just in time for a soft landing on the ground.

Manhunter joined her a moment later, just as Black Canary and Katana were rushing towards them. Not a word was spoken as Manhunter grabbed the door to the Monarch and flung it open, the Bird's rushing in as the Mad Hatter was dragged in with them.

Into the lobby they poured in, finding—much to Huntress' surprise—Batgirl with the two younger vigilantes, Bluebird and Spoiler, standing over the tied up forms of the Riddler and Scarecrow. They were just finishing their restraints when the older women arrived.

"Bar the doors," Huntress ordered as she shoved the Mad Hatter to the floor. She pointed a finger at him, sending a death glare his way for emphasis. "You move from my sight, and I'll point out the direction you ran to the Iceman himself, let him have you."

The short man frantically nodded his understanding. In the meantime, Black Canary and Katana were trying to find things to block the door into the lobby.

"What's going on?" she heard Bluebird ask, the blue-haired girl strolling up to her. Before she could reply though, a pale light glowed through the cracks around the main doors before ice suddenly erupted through them, tearing the wooden doors apart. Grabbing the younger vigilante, Huntress dove to one side, yanking the girl with her as the ice crossed through the lobby until it hit the far wall, causing the ice to grow across it until it slowed to a stop.

"That," Huntress responded. "That's what's going on. The Iceman decided to crash the party. He's already taken out the Man-Bat and…"

She trailed off as she looked about the room. She could see the Riddler and Mad Hatter, the latter of whom had scrambled out of the way of the ice wall, while the former had lunged forward and crawled as best as he could. Riddler was mere inches from the ice, but safely out of being frozen by it.

"You guys alright?" Black Canary's voice called out.

"Yeah!" Huntress shouted back. "Who's with you?"

"Katana, Batgirl, Spoiler...Scarecrow…" A pause. "How about you?"

Huntress frowned as she darted her eyes around. There was someone missing and she didn't like the implication. Manhunter had been with them at the door when they came charging in. Oh, she hoped she hadn't been caught up in the ice.

"Check the ice," she ordered Bluebird. "See if you can spot a person inside of it. I'd prefer not to, but we're missing someone." Bluebird gave her a sharp nod before she began looking up and down the ice, the same with Huntress.

"Please, don't be in this thing," she pleaded lowly.


As the others rushed into the Monarch, Manhunter couldn't help but check to make sure they were all there. It was a reflex, something she had done since she had joined the Birds of Prey.

It was because of this, that she spotted a figure fleeing into a nearby alleyway. She knew the others had entered the theater and they had the Mad Hatter with them. Man-Bat was currently an ice sculpture next to the Iceman, which left one person unaccounted for.

Pushing the door closed, Manhunter took off for the alley. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted the Iceman looking in her direction. He must have seen the person she was following and he wasn't going to just let them go. With one arm raised, he had it aimed for the mouth of the alley she was running towards.

She picked up her pace, determined to get there before she joined Man-Bat in a frozen prison.

BRRRRRRRRAAAAAAANNNNNNGGGGGG

She felt the cold right behind her. She could have sworn it sapped the very heat out of her. With a turn of her head, she saw a wall of ice had formed right at the mouth of the alley behind her, effectively sealing her off.

Well, she could help but note that this was what she wanted. The Iceman just made certain she couldn't change her mind now.

Not that she would. Returning her attention in front of her, the vigilante spotted a manhole cover lying on the ground next to said manhole. The escapee didn't care if people knew which way he had gone and anyone would be foolish to do so. After all, there were rumors of man-eating crocodiles in the sewers.

It seemed she was going to discover just how true those rumors were.

The smart thing would be to climb down the latter, but any time spent being cautious was time for her prey to get that much further away. So with staff in hand, she hopped into the hole and allowed gravity to drop her all the way into the sewer.

Manhunter landed with a splash; she refused to think of what she actually landed in though, since that would force her to think of all the nastiness there was. She found herself standing in thigh high water though, a current pulling at her, but not strong enough to carry her away. Hands gripping her staff, she checked in front and behind her, seeing no one else here.

There was no freaking way. She should have at least seen a towering figure lumbering down the tunnel. The water would have slowed their pace.

That's when she heard it. It was as if something were shifting the water, the sound of water drops rapidly falling back into the current. It was coming from behind her.

As fast as she could, Manhunter spun around. There he was, Killer Croc, a clawed hand raised above his head as he snarled at her. She only had enough time to raise her staff before that hand swung down.

The good news was that she successfully blocked the blow; the bad news was that the force behind it knocked her clear off her feet and she fell backwards, splashing into the water and becoming submerged. Thanks to the water, she slowed her descent down until her back barely touched the slimy floor.

And thanks to her lens protecting her eyes, she saw a foot appear above her and drop down on her. It came into contact with her staff and forced it down on her, pinning her to the ground. Immediately, she began to struggle, kicking her legs even as she pushed up on her staff, but to no avail. Bubbles rose from her nose, a steady reminder of the depleting air in her lungs. Already she could feel them straining, burning, crying for fresh air—or just air in general.

Manhunter didn't stand a chance against such strength, not here, not right now. It was pretty clear Killer Croc was trying to drown her and he was succeeding so far. The brunette vigilante could feel her kicking legs weakening.

Damn it, no! Not like this!

Her best weapon was currently assisting in keeping her down, so she couldn't use it. The water around her made certain that any punch or kick she could land would be slowed down and basically useless. There wasn't much in her belt she could use either.

There had to be something she could use! Something! Anything!

Eyes darting around, she could only see the murky water and the scaly foot on top of her. Then she eyed her arm and realized she had one thing she could use. It was a long shot, but as long as she got her wrist above, or at least right near the surface of the water, she could pull it off. At this time, it was her only chance.

Worming her arm out from under the staff, she stuck it up as high as it could go. The top of her fist felt cool air, so she was at least as close to the surface as she was going to get. The armor guard on top of her forearm rose up, revealing twin barrels just below her wrist. This was a lock breaker, one she hadn't used in some time. A blast from this thing could wreck the shit out of most heavy-duty padlocks, even the thickest ones.

Here's to hoping it did something against Croc.

Manhunter fired it. The booming sound it made was deafening under the water. Then Croc's foot rose up, the pressure it had placed on her disappearing.

Immediately, she pushed her way to the surface, head exploding out as she coughed and gagged for air. Her need for it blinded her to everything around here, not something she could afford.

Forcing herself to look for her foe, even as she kept panting, she spotted the crocodile man with a singed mark on his chest. That must have been where the lock busting blast had hit him—good.

However, Croc was glaring at her with murderous intent—not a good thing. Snarling, he revealed his sharp teeth as he lunged at her, once again leading with a clawed hand.

As quickly as she could, Manhunter hauled her staff up and forced herself backwards as much as she could. It worked as Croc's claws just barely missed marking up her face. Holding the staff up vertically, the vigilante brought it down, aiming the end of the weapon right at the inner side of Croc's knee.

The blow immediately caused the reptile man's leg to buckle, causing him to cry out. Manhunter then forced the upper part of the staff forward, slamming the staff into the convict's face, causing him to stumble back from the hit. She then backed up a couple steps, taking advantage of the moment to get some distance between them.

"Not bad," she heard Croc grunt then, one of his hands rubbing his face from where he had been hit. "Yer gonna have to do better than that to bring me down though."

Manhunter twirled her staff next to her before she stopped it, one end of the weapon pointed right at the towering crocodile, light glowing from it. "You mean something like this?" she spat at him.

There was no point in holding back; she knew Croc could take most hits and shrug them off as if they were nothing. Her lock breaker was proof of that. So she powered up her staff and fired the strongest blast she could. Croc's wide eyes were the last thing she saw of him before an explosion sent him flying down the sewer tunnel. She even heard him scream as he flew away from her.

Ugh, loud sound in a tiny hallbad idea, Manhunter groaned. Her ears were ringing from the thunderous roar of the explosion, helped by the enclosed space of the sewer, which increased the echo, but it was something she could live with, unlike her drowning earlier. Keeping her staff up by her hip, she began to trudge down the sewer,

She found Croc. In fact, she had reached a point where the sewer split into two tunnels. Either that, or the tunnels happened to meet here. Regardless, there was a hole in the wall, a pair of legs sticking out of it. Peering into the hole, she saw Croc's upper body and arms sprawled onto the floor, singed from the energy beam, his eyes rolled into the back of his head. For a moment, she thought he was dead, but then saw the slow rise and fall of his chest.

Hopefully he felt that in the morning. Now came a new problem: how was she going to drag his scaly ass to the surface? He was larger than her so it stood to reason that he weighed heavier than her.

Looking up from the fallen crocodile man, Manhunter soon found herself frowning. The light from the sewer tunnel poured into whatever room Croc had blasted into and it showed a lot of barrels, wires connecting each one to each other. By wires, she meant ones that seemed to leap from the top of each barrel to the other.

Manhunter wasn't certain what she was seeing, but she knew that whatever it was, it couldn't be good.


The laughter echoed throughout the theater. Strange was the only one who didn't look for its source, too consumed by the gunshot in his chest. Batman, though, didn't need to look to know just who's laughter that was.

Emerging from the shadows came the Joker, a handgun raised, a wide smile splitting his face. "Puddin!" Harley Quinn cried out with joy.

"Now this is what I call a show stopper!" the mad clown proclaimed. "It had everything! Suspense, terror, gloating, a crashing fall to earth, and of course the twist ending! And I couldn't have done it without all of the characters! Everyone, give yourselves a hand! Pammy, Harley, Batsy, and of course, Professor Strange."

There was no clapping. Harley made some grunting noises as she tried to move her arms to do so, but the vines restraining her wouldn't allow her too. The Joker didn't seem all that concerned though.

Batman glanced to the fallen body on the floor, the one that looked just like the Clown Prince of Crime. The similarities between the two were uncanny. "All this time, you were hiding in the shadows, just biding your time until this moment," the vigilante stated, returning his attention to the green-haired man.

"Oh, I wouldn't say that. Not always to be sure; well, sometimes. A little confusing if I don't say so myself. Getting the right body double was a pain, but as you can see, the results speak for themselves."

"What was the point of this? Of all of this?"

Apparently, Strange wasn't too far gone that he managed to spit out, "You...it's always...been you…"

"Oh, come now, Hugo, if you honestly think this whole thing was about Batman, then I think you need to retake the class on self-reflection. This was never about Batsy." The grin on the clown's face faded, but never truly left. "This was always about you and me, you with your self-aggrandizing self-importance. I'm not sure where you got it in your head that you were my equal…"

He trailed off for a moment, his face twisting with thought before he corrected himself, "No, make that better than me. You've always looked down on us loonies, but where were you living out your days? That's right! Right next to us! Hardly a place for a 'superior specimen' like yourself.

"All this time, with your little plots and your intricate web of intrigue and where do you find yourself? Bleeding out on the floor of an aging, long-forgotten theater. Don't get me wrong, I love the theater, and I must applaud your choice in venue, but what did I find out you were planning for it when I snuck in through the back door? Some preaching about knowing my true identity! Why don't you just check the name in my underwear, why don't ya?"

"You have your name in your underwear?" Poison Ivy questioned unimpressed.

"What, you don't?" The Joker sent a sideways look at the redhead, his smile returning. "Oh right, you don't wear any. My apologies, Pammy. Now where was I? Oh, that's right! I just can't help but feel like a disappointed father, Hugo. Really and truly. I saw so much promise in you and this is where you lead me?"

The clown shook his head with disappointment. "Heh," he suddenly chuckled. "Alright, I can't keep a straight face on that one. Truth be told, I never had any respect for you, even when you were trying to dig around in my brain for answers that never truly existed. Just like all of the other shrinks that tried to make a name for themselves by cracking this noggin' of mine, I fed you tinny, tiny morsels and you ran with it like a dog with a bone. So let me ask you this, as a patient to his former doctor: how does it feel to know you're just like all the other lemmings you profess to be smarter than?"

Strange made a gagging sound, though whether it was from the Joker's taunting, or the pain wrecking his body, it was a toss up. Batman had enough of whatever game was being played here. "Enough of whatever this is," he growled. "All of you are turning yourselves in and ending this madness."

"No, it's not quite time for all of that," the Joker responded. "You see, I still have one more player I need to thank. He's been so patient with us that it's finally time for the big twist."

There was movement out of the corner of the vigilante's eye. Turning his head, he saw the body of the Joker's double move. It started with one hand as he moved to start pushing himself up, the other hand following in turn. As he pushed himself up though, his hand began to bulge out. His arms followed and the colors of his suit began to swirl inward. Brown, no, the color of clay began to take over, the body double standing on both legs and growing larger, taller, bulkier.

Misshapen.

"Ladies and gentlemen, for tonight only, standing in for yours truly and doing a damn fine job if I don't say so myself," the Joker declared, "allow me to introduce—!"

Soon, the only thing left of the double was the Joker's head, his smiling mouth opening suddenly before a clay-like substance poured out of it. It slid down its chin, then over the cheeks, and finally the face. Yellowish eyes soon appeared, a wide mouth with crooked teeth smirking.

"Clayface!"

"Hagan," Batman growled. "Why? Why are you helping the Joker?"

A dark chuckle came from the mud man. "You of all people should know us actors, Bats," he said. "When it comes right down to it, all of us are looking for that one part that will define us for a generation.

"And this was the role of a lifetime!"

Clayface's chest suddenly expanded, a torrent of mud racing right towards the Dark Knight. Midway, however, it changed into that of a large anvil, its flat side leading the charge.

Batman immediately turned and grabbed a hold of Strange. The restraining vines on his arm suddenly loosened, allowing him to yank it out and grip the fallen shrink, a surprise, but one he wasn't going to second guess. Doing his best to lift him up, he then dove to one side, causing the two men to go rolling over each other. It wasn't the most graceful of dodges, but they avoided the anvil as it smashed the floor where they had been standing, floorboards snapping as broken pieces jutted up into the air.

"Gah!" Strange cried out once they came to a stop, him lying on the floor again. As much of a monster as he was, Batman wasn't about to let the man die, even if he did deserve it. For now, he needed to get the former psychiatrist out of harm's way and the best way to do that was to put distance between them.

Springing away from Strange, Batman ran towards the wall of the theater. It seemed Clayface only had eyes for him as he raised a hand and extended his arm, stretching it after the dark-clad man. As he reached the wall, he then darted to one side, Clayface's hand slamming into the wall, cracking the sheetrock.

With a hand shoved into a pouch on his belt, Batman pulled out a couple of shuriken. Pressing his thumb to the body of each one, then then sent the two flying through the air, whirling towards the giant mud man. The shuriken hit their target, sinking into the man's soft flesh.

A moment later they both exploded, sending pieces of Clayface flying in all directions, the former actor crying out from the pain. Though he should have been trying to follow up his attack with another, Batman couldn't help but think of all the times Clayface had been standing in for the Joker.

The earliest moment had to have been when he turned himself over to the GCPD. At the time, the vigilante had felt things were off when the Joker did that, only to perform a miraculous escape right out of the jail cell made specifically for him. In retrospect, it had been Clayface that had escaped and he had any number of ways of doing so, including using the plumbing. There had also been the damage in the secured room at the waste treatment plant. At the time, he figured Croc had been the one to tear the floor up, or even an explosive from the Joker. Now though, it was more likely Clayface had created the hole. Dent hadn't told him about that despite being present there, most likely due to the flip of his coin. After that, there was no telling when the two were switching out for each other.

Somehow the Joker had found out Clayface had been kept in that secured room; had been saving that knowledge for the right moment, and it had finally arrived.

"I'm gonna kill you, Batman!" Matt Hagan roared then, his body reforming from the damage caused by the explosive shuriken. With heavy footsteps, he stormed over towards the vigilante. Raising a hand up, sharp metal tips began to grow out of each finger, the clay of his hand drawing back before a five-prong metal hand appeared. Lunging forward, he drew back his arm and then thrust the sharp weapon at him.

Batman dove forward, going into a roll that allowed him to go right between Hagan's legs, ending up with him on his feet between the shapeshifter. The metal hand stabbed into the floor where he had been previously.

Suddenly, Clayface twisted his body around, ripping his metal hand out of the floor. Spinning, he swung his weaponized hand at the dark-clad man. Springing off the floor, Batman jumped towards the incoming arm, his hands grabbing onto the side of the metal hand. Swinging his legs up, he launched himself up into the air and went into a flip that allowed him to land on the floor some distance away.

Clayface paused for a moment before he turned to face the dark-clad man. His fleshy clay swallowed up the metal hand, returning it to its original state. "You're still as quick as usual, Bats," he complimented before he smirked. "Good, I want you to make this as interesting as possible before I kill you."

"Trust me, Hagan, I'll give you more than you can handle," Batman responded.


As many of you have guessed, the Clayface reveal is the old fake Joker gag from Arkham City, right down to the big reveal at the Monarch Theater. It's been a long time coming for this twist, so I hope it was good for you as it was for me to write it.