The joke´s on you!

- Please welcome Joker!

The classic tune of the show beats and the colored curtains open, forming the path that finally leads me to the great stage. Time to shine! Did I mention I´m a dancer? I couldn´t do it another way, I go out on the stage dancing. I smile, flick away my last cigarette and spin around three times until I reach Murray. The audience claps enthusiastically. I shake Murray´s hand and walk towards the other two guests. This is my last chance to kiss a woman and if Doctor Sally is all there is, then so be it. I approach her and she reaches her hand out to me but I take her face in both my hands and give her one of those kisses you see only in the magazines. The crowd claps and whistles.

- Are you alright, Doctor?- Murray asks - That was quite an entrance!-

I take a seat next to Murray and cross my legs.

I look around. Wow! This is amazing! It´s like a dream. The lights, the people, the bright colors, the noise of the crowd…so many heads, soy many eyes. People laugh. I don´t know why because I haven´t told a joke yet.

- Are you OK?- Murray asks.

- Yeah…this is exactly how I imagined it.

- Well, that makes one of us!

Everyone laughs and claps. Did I say something funny? I don´t know. But wow, does it feel good to be applauded. I smile. I could have spent all my life like this. If only I had been born under a different star…

- So, can you tell us about this look? When we spoke earlier you mentioned that this look is not a political statement. Is that right?

- That´s right, Murray. I´m not political. I´m just trying to make people laugh.

- And how has that gone for you?

People laugh.

- Hahahahahaha - I fake laughing as well.

- So, I know you´re a comedian. You´ve been working on any new material? You wanna tell us a joke?

Applause. Is that all for me? This is truly magnificent.

- Yeah? Haha. OK.

I look at Murray while I slightly lift myself from the seat to take the notebook from my pocket.

- He´s got a book! A book of jokes.- says Murray and moves closer , trying to catch a glimpse of the content but I cover the notebook up, shielding its secrets.

I open a random page and turn a few as if I was looking for something although I know I´m looking for nothing. The only joke I´m going to tell tonight is in my pocket and not in the notebook. But then a lonely sentence captures my attention.

"I just hope my death makes more cents than my life."

Between all that mess of images and scrawl that one sentence stands out, as if it was yelling at me. My eyes get fixed on the letters. How can a bit of ink contain so much? Suddenly it´s as if the entire room had gone mute, petrified. People seem like lifeless puppets, sitting there staring at me with eyes of glass that don´t see. Somewhere I heard someone say that time is like a river. It flows at different speeds in different places. I believe I understand now what they meant, for it seems that time has come to a halt for everyone, except for me.

Just as I rehearsed it so many times, my left hand reaches down to my leg and ever so carefully my thumb slides into my pocket, finding the cold body of the gun. My skin touches hers and caresses it for a second. The time has come!

And then my hand collides with something else. A soft and silky fabric that contrasts with the hard metal next to it. It´s the blue handkerchief I put in my pocket when I was getting dressed…

There it is. I wanted to have it with me for this moment, here at the end of all things.

Hold on…

My hand stops.

The handkerchief is in my pocket…in my pocket… The handkerchief is in my pocket…in my pocket.

I put it there because I took it off my wrist and I couldn´t tie it to it again. I couldn´t do it. I couldn´t do it because it´s impossible to tie it with just one hand…which means…it means that I could never have tied it to my wrist by myself in the first place… someone else had to do it. Someone else did it, it wasn´t me. It wasn´t me. That night Penny was staying at the hospital…it wasn´t her. If it wasn´t me and it wasn´t Penny…then it could only have been one person, it had to be her! Sophie.

Sophie…you are real? Oh, Sophie! You are real! Everything was real!

My eyes get flooded with tears and I look up. I´m faced once more with the sea of faces that is the crowd. They´re like grains of sand in a vast desert.

Sophie…in that infinity of faces that make up the world, I who am just one more amongst so many others, I wasn´t invisible to you. And between the millions of souls that wander across the earth, you found me, you saw me, you chose me… You loved me…me, who no one else ever loved.

The gun feels heavier inside my pocket, as if it wanted to finally come out to the stage.

But if there is even just one person in the world who loved me…then everything was worthwhile. I can die in peace.

- Take your time, we got all night...

Murray´s voice cuts the silence. The handles of the clock resume their pace. The earth is spinning again. Something stops my hand, an invisible force takes my fingers away from the gun. What´s going on? This is not how it was planned. Murray stares at me. Everyone stares at me. They´re waiting to hear a joke. My hand goes back to the notebook. A joke, a joke. There´s got to be something here that I can use. I turn a few pages. I stay calm even though my hands are sweating nervously.

- Haha. OK. Here´s one: Knock, knock.

- And you had to look that up?

Everyone laughs. But not at a joke, for I haven´t told any. They laugh at me. Murray laughs at me. This is the third time you stab me, Murray.

- I wanted to get it right…- I say and between the mockery I start over again - Knock, knock…-

- Who´s there?- Murray replies.

- It´s the police, madam. Your son´s been hit by a drunk driver. He´s dead! Haha.

- Oh no, no, no. No, you cannot joke about that!- says Doctor Sally upset.

- Yeah, that´s not funny, Arthur. That´s not the kind of humor we do on this show.- Murray scolds me.

Oh it´s not? Well it seems to be the kind of humor that is appreciated on the streets…when my illness plagued me and made a fool of me in front of everyone, didn´t you find it funny? When they beat me down and kicked me around, didn´t you laugh? Didn´t you all laugh? Alright. If you didn´t like my joke, let me tell you something else. Maybe this seems more entertaining to you. I will reveal to you my little secret instead of taking it with me to the grave. I will tell you my story! I will bleed words and stain the walls of the studio with them. I will splash this factory of arrogant jokes and false laughter with truth and you will hear me!

- OK, yeah, I´m sorry. It´s just, you know…it´s been a rough few weeks, Murray… ever since I… killed those three Wall Street guys.

My confession has left them speechless. I let my eyes wander across all those heads. My eyes become glassy. Not a sound can be heard anymore. There´s no more laughter or applause, only a whisper.

- OK, I´m waiting for the punchline.- says Murray.

- There is no punchline. It´s not a joke.

The crowd is stunned. Murray moves closer to me.

- You´re serious, aren´t you? You´re telling us you killed those three young men on the subway?

- Mhmmm.

- And why should we believe you?

- I´ve got nothing left to lose. Nothing can hurt me anymore. Hahaha. My life is nothing but a comedy!- I swallow some tears and smile.

People start booing at me.

- Let me get this straight. You think killing those guys is funny?

- I do.- I finally confess - And I´m tired of pretending it´s not.-

I no longer care about their reaction.

- Comedy is subjective, Murray! Isn´t that what they say? - I say, looking the crowd directly in the eyes and I raise my voice.

- All of you…this system that knows so much, you decide what´s right or wrong, the same way that you decide what´s funny or not.-

- Get him off!- yells someone in the back of the hall.

- OK, I… I think I might understand that you did this to start a movement? To become a symbol? - says Murray.

- Come on, Murray…do I look like the kind of clown that could start a movement? I killed those guys because they were awful. Everybody is awful these days. It´s enough to make anyone crazy.

- OK, so that´s it, you´re crazy. That´s your defense for killing three young men?

No, I´m not crazy, I´m saner than ever! It´s you who lives of fictions, Murray and the truth spits in your face! No, it´s not me who is wrong. The world is wrong! The world is wrong and this bullet is not for me …

- No…they couldn´t carry a tune to save their lives!

The booing becomes louder. It´s OK, you can disapprove me as much as you want. Contempt is familiar to me. I´ve fed on rejection and hatred and I´ve cried many nights, but I have accepted them and I´ve made with them my shield and my stronghold! I don´t care that you laugh at me. I don´t care about anything anymore.

- Ugh, why is everybody so upset about these guys? If it was me dying on the sidewalk, you´d walk right over me! I pass you everyday and you don´t notice me!But these guys, what? Because Thomas Wayne went crying about them on TV?!

- You have a problem with Thomas Wayne?

- Yes, I do! Have you seen what it´s like out there, Murray? You ever actually leave the studio? Everybody just yells and screams at each other. Nobody is civil anymore! Nobody thinks what it´s like to be the other guy. You think men like Thomas Wayne ever think what it´s like to be someone like me? To be somebody but themselves? They don´t! They think that we´ll just sit there and take it like good little boys. That we won´t werewolf and go wild!

The audience is aghast. Oh, how sorry I am to disappoint you. Did you want a party clown? Were you expecting a jester to come and entertain your Majesties with cheap tricks? You kings in suit and tie. You lords with blind eyes and deaf ears who force us to our knees and walk over us, stepping on us with your shiny shoes. The weight of this pyramid you´ve built breaks the men at the bottom and with the wheels of this horrible system you´ve created, you crush their mortal souls. And what do you expect? That we smile and put on a happy face?

- You finished? I mean, there´s so much self pity, Arthur! You sound like you´re making excuses for killing those young men! Not everybody, and I I´ll tell you this, not everyone is awful.

- You´re awful, Murray.

- Me? I´m awful? Oh, yeah? How am I awful?

- Playing my video. Inviting me on this show. You just wanted to make fun of me. You´re just like the rest of them!

- You don´t know the first thing about me, pal. Look what happened because of what you did. What it led to. There are riots out there. Two policemen are in critical condition and you´re laughing! You´re laughing! Someone was killed today because of what you did!

Hahahahaha this is funny. It is. The joke is on you, Murray.

- I know…- I say and take a deep breath - How about another joke, Murray?-

- No, I think we´ve had enough of your jokes.

- What do you get when you cross a mentally ill loner with a society that abandons him and treats him like trash?! - my voice breaks - I´ll tell you what you get! YOU GET WHAT YOU FUCKING DESERVE!-

In the blink of an eye the gun is in my hand, my finger is on the trigger and with one single, clean shot in the head I kill Murray Franklin.

The shot rumbles. The blood stains my face and the walls. People scream and run out of the studio. I stay seated watching the spectacle. My legs shake violently. I see Murray´s body dead on the chair. I killed Murray. A tear runs from me eye.

- Hahahahahaha.

I killed Murray and one part of me cries while the other one laughs. You killed me first, Murray. You killed me when you shattered the only dream I had in my life. You destroyed me when you mocked me. You murdered me. I only returned the favor.

I get on my feet. This gun has already fulfilled its mission and I no longer need it. I toss it on Murray´s desk, I look around at the few people still fleeing from the studio and I approach the camera that is still transmitting the program live.

- Good night- I say to all the audience behind their TVs - And always remember, that´s life!-

Outside I´m met with a unique scene. Even though I´m handcuffed in the police car, it doesn´t keep me from appreciating the wonderful spectacle that has set in the streets of Gotham. There are fires and riots everywhere. The flames climb high into the night sky, putting the stars and arrogant lights of the city to ridicule. It´s raining but it´s not raindrops. It´s raining pieces of shattered glass from the windows of luxurious shops and it´s raining sparks from the cables in the high streetlights. The sound of chaos is the best music I´ve ever heard. It´s the screams and howls in the streets that announce the end of the false calm that reigned among the people of Gotham. I see clown faces everywhere I look. I feel their rage, their anger…and I feel their liberation. The sound it produces creates a symphony and that music creaks like metal, like the sound of chains that finally break. And even though I´m handcuffed, I feel like I´m finally free.

I laugh and laugh and laugh. If the manager of this great circus that is the world is watching us from above , I hope he is laughing now. I hope he´s enjoying this magnificent show as much as I am.

- Hahahahahahaha!

- Stop laughing, you freak! This isn´t funny!- says the officer who´s driving me to the police station - The whole fucking city is on fire because of what you did!-

- I know…- I say, watching the flames in awe - Isn´t it beautiful?-

And then a blinding light hits my eyes and a strong blow darkens my sight. Everything goes black around me. Am I already dead? I feel a pair of hands carefully holding me and lifting me up. When I open my eyes again I realize I´m laying on my back. My body hurts. There´s so much noise. I hear screams. My hands are free. Someone´s removed the handcuffs. I turn my head and look around. I´m laying on the front of the police car.

- Get up!- the voices yell - Come on, get up!-

Is it me they´re talking to? I slowly get up. The pieces of glass dig into my palms when I try to lift myself. I get on my knees and then on my feet. Who are all these people? Why are they cheering me on? They´re hundreds…no, they´re thousands! All of them look at me, they lift their arms and cheer. They see me! People see me! I exist! I exist and now I finally know it! I feel something strange, something magnificent. I feel a certain connection. I feel part of something bigger than myself. And then I finally get it, now I understand it all…

I´m one of them and all of them are me. They are my mirror, they are my echo. It´s my amplified voice, my multiplied pain, it´s the drops that form the river of blood that flows from my open veins.

I feel tears streaming down my face, but I don´t cry of pain, I cry of joy. And I smile. I smile for my audience, my true audience.

I notice the metallic flavor on my tongue. It´s my own blood. I put my fingers in my mouth and soak them in that beautiful color that wounds produce, especially those that are deep, and I paint a blood smile on my face. I open my arms and receive in them the wonderful ovation of the people. Their hands reach up to the sky, their screams fill up the night and their torches light it like fireworks. It´s like the end of a great celebration, the final note of a splendid symphony, an ode to the vindication of all the wretched of this world.

What a tragic parody. I´m a clown that laughs, hero of a world that cries.