"Going somewhere, Johnny?" asked a voice. Crane turned to see Harley Quinn smiling at him, her arms folded across her chest and a strange glint in her eyes.
"Harley! I was just…leaving," stammered Crane. "I have work to do…elsewhere…"
"You ain't gonna stay for the big fear gas finale?" asked Harley. "The thing you were so excited about in leading this attack on Gotham?"
"Well, your son seems to have it well in hand," said Crane. "I don't think he needs me around anymore, so I'll just be going…"
"Positive male role models aren't meant to walk out on people, Johnny," interrupted Harley. "Are you afraid of something?"
"I'm not afraid of anything," retorted Crane. "I'm the Master of Fear…"
"But you're afraid we're gonna add your body to the collection of corpses, huh?" interrupted Harley, grinning. "I was a shrink too, Johnny, remember? I can read people. And you might not have a face anymore, but I can read it as absolutely terrified anyway."
"I wouldn't cross me, my dear," retorted Crane. "I am a dangerous man, with multiple defenses to protect myself, and I will not be murdered by a woman and her psychotic child."
"You should be flattered you were so useful to our cause that we kept you alive this long," retorted Harley. "But you know as well as I do that these little supervillain team ups never last. Too much ego and in-fighting. Mr. J always said if it wasn't so fun to torment the others, he'd have eliminated the competition a long time ago. You people were always coming in between him and Batsy, always trying to compete with Mr. J to be the top supervillain in this town. But it was always so pathetic, it wasn't even a competition. And J.J. doesn't suffer fools as gladly as his father did."
"I am not a fool," retorted Crane.
"Well, you were kinda foolish not to have seen a betrayal coming," said Harley, shrugging. "You shouldn't have actually trusted people who aren't serious about anything to tell you the truth about anything. It's nothing personal, you understand. It's just that we need everyone together again, just like old times."
"Why?" asked Crane.
"You haven't figured it out?" asked Harley. "Guess you aren't as smart as you think you are. Come on, I'll show you," she said, beckoning him out of the room. Crane kept a tight hold on the gun in his pocket as he followed her into the old penitentiary.
The metallic door in front of him slid open. "Freeze's old cell," explained Harley, flicking the lights on. "Good for storing things you don't wanna rot. I was inspired by Penguin, actually – I don't condone what he did to the babies, obviously, but I can't blame him for wanting to have an image of what things used to be like preserved forever."
Crane stared aghast at the scene revealed before him – the room contained several bodies which had been arranged in ghastly fashion, in the middle of movement as if they were alive, but obviously, horribly dead. Ivy's body was there – the look on her face was one of shock and terror, no doubt a result of several deep stab wounds all over her body which had been sewn up. The horrific sight contrasted frightfully with the position of her body, which was entangled seductively in her plants and blowing a kiss. Penguin's body was there – the head crudely reattached and still eyeless, the mouth gaping open in a silent scream, posed with an umbrella and cigar. Nygma's burned and blackened corpse was there, being kicked by the burned and blackened corpse of Nightwing.
There were other Rogues there too, others Crane hadn't realized were dead, but had obviously been hunted down and killed by Harley and J.J. in horrible ways. Hush's bandaged face was covered in dried blood – possibly the face had been removed pre-mortem, as it had with so many of his victims. Mr. Freeze's normally bluish skin showed almost purple against his bloated face – he had clearly died from heat exhaustion, which could have occurred just by leaving him in a normal temperature without his suit. His wife's body lay at his feet, clearly having been removed from her stasis tube and left to die from her illness. The Mad Hatter looked on with sightless eyes and grinning mouth, his hat smashed in where clearly his skull had been smashed in with a hammer. Killer Croc's body was riddled with multiple harpoons piercing his scaly skin - he was posed mid-roar, which almost gave Crane flashbacks to when he had attacked him and ripped his face off.
"We just wanted the whole gang back together again," explained Harley. "All of us in Arkham, just like old times. But this time the others will stay in their place, locked in here, while me and Mr. J will be out causing chaos and ruling Gotham. That's how it always should have been."
"Harley, listen to me," said Crane, turning to her in desperation. "I'm a psychiatrist, and so are you. I think deep down you understand that this is all wrong. You're trying to preserve life at the time when it was most comfortable for you, but you can't stop time. You have to accept the reality of the situation. The Joker is dead. And you have to move on. Things can never be as they were before."
"Mr. J lives on in our son," replied Harley. "He's alive inside him, literally through his DNA, and figuratively through his actions. Through J.J., we'll always be together. And once Batman is gone, once he's paid for Mr. J, and J.J. has achieved everything his father always dreamed of, then the world will be perfect, as it always should have been."
"Harley, you know as well as I do that perfection is an illusion," said Crane. "Reality is imperfect, and it's filled with things we can control, and things we can't. We have to accept the things we can't control, and you couldn't control the Joker's death. You have to accept that things are different now, that everything has changed…"
"Nothing has changed," interrupted Harley, firmly. "Not really. We're all here together again, Gotham is burning, and soon Batman will arrive to stop us. But he won't stop us this time. He'll die, as he always should have done if there was any justice in this world. And then everything will be the way it always should have been. Everything will be perfect."
"Sounds good to me," said a voice. They both turned to see Batman standing in the doorway.
"Batman, I never thought I'd be so glad to see you!" exclaimed Crane. "You've seen the chamber of horrors this woman has produced," he added, gesturing around. "It must hurt you deeply to see all your old enemies murdered like this, when you would never have wanted them dead. You need to save me now – stop this attack, arrest her and her son, and lock me away in a cell far away from them."
"I could do that," agreed Batman, nodding. "But here's a better idea - I add you to this chamber of horrors myself. How's that for a joke?" he chuckled. "It's certainly a punchline you wouldn't expect, and comedy is all about surprises!"
"I…I don't understand," stammered Crane, staring at him aghast. "What's wrong with you?"
"Nothing's wrong with me, Johnny, not anymore!" laughed Batman. "For a while there I was in really bad shape, humorless and brooding. But not anymore. Now I've seen the light, and it's wonderful. For the longest time I felt nothing but pain and guilt, but now that's all gone. There's only joy. For the first time in a long time, I'm free. And I just feel like laughing."
He did, cackling madly as he strode into the room. Crane watched in horror, as Batman went from corpse to corpse, giggling and making strange remarks. "Hey, anyone need some new shoes?" he laughed, patting Croc. "That's good crocodile skin! Look at this guy – shame Harvey isn't here," he said, gesturing at Hush. "We would have Two-Face and No-Face!"
Harley watched him, strangely fascinated. "You…remind me of someone, Bats," she said, slowly.
"Yes?" pressed Batman, smiling at her. "Who is it, Harley?"
"Just…the way you talk, and the way you laugh…" stammered Harley. "You kinda remind me of…Mr. J."
Batman giggled. "Let me tell you a little secret, Harley," he whispered, bending down next to her. "I am Mr. J," he whispered.
He suddenly whipped out a gun, and fired six rounds into Crane's face. He was dead before he hit the ground. "Couldn't fill the Scarecrow full of straw, so I filled him full of lead!" chuckled Batman. "You gotta improvise with jokes sometimes, don't you?"
"Oh…Mr. J!" gasped Harley, gazing into his eyes. "It's really you!"
"I've been alive inside Batsy all these years," said Batman, taking her hands. "And I finally got complete control of him now. From now on, it'll be just you, me, and J.J. running this town, with no one to stop us."
"Mr. J…it's a miracle!" sobbed Harley, touching his face gently. "It's almost too good to be true!"
"Yes," murmured a voice from the doorway. "It is."
They turned to see J.J. standing there, keeping his gun trained on Batman. "It's some kinda Bat-trick, Mommy," he murmured. "You know that as well as I do."
"It's no trick, baby – he just murdered Johnny!" exclaimed Harley, gesturing to the body. "And made a joke outta it! It's Mr. J in there for sure!"
"I don't know what your game is, Batman," said J.J., glaring at him. "But I don't believe this little act. And you will not take Mommy away from me."
"Sonny boy, it's me!" exclaimed Batman, approaching him with his arms spread. "Your dear old dad…"
"My father is dead!" snapped J.J. "You killed him! How dare you pretend to be him now?! How dare you try to trick my mother, to give her false hope?! She's mourned my father for fifteen years, and now you're trying to tell me he's alive inside you?!"
"Quite the joke, isn't it?" chuckled Batman. "I'm sorry for all the pain you both went through, but I wasn't strong enough to take control of Brucie before. I had to bide my time to build up my strength. I can prove it."
"How?" demanded J.J.
"You have Batsy's little friends kept here, don't you?" asked Batman. "Take me to them. I'll kill them. Then you'll have to believe me, because Batman would never do that."
J.J. shook his head slowly. "This is a trick," he repeated. "You want me to take you to them so you can help them escape. You've got a plan to rescue them, and that's what this act is all about."
He carefully holstered his gun. "But I will take you to them. You need to see what they're suffering because of you. Maybe you did just suddenly snap because of your guilt, your guilt at killing my father and losing your surrogate son. But just because you're crazy doesn't mean you're my father. It takes more than that to be the Joker. I should know."
"I know it too, sonny boy!" chuckled Batman. "You don't know how many years I struggled against Batsy's mind, trying to break out of the small, humorless cage he kept me in. He thought if he just isolated me, and himself, he could stop me. But that's not how it works. If you lock someone up, you don't fight them, and Batsy always needed to fight to maintain his strength. Without the fight, he was weak and easily malleable, so that when I eventually broke out and took over, it was relatively easy to win. And now this whole town is gonna find out the Joker is back, in a new, improved Bat-body!"
"I don't think it's an improvement, puddin'," said Harley, taking his hand and beaming at him. "But it's better than nothing! Better to have you back in any body than have you gone forever!"
J.J. said nothing, leading them out of the penitentiary, his normally smiling face cold and hard and resolute.