The next morning, Wendy was sleeping in her bed, an arm draped over her chest. The room was dark and quiet. The door opened and somebody walked into the sleeping woman's bedroom. The carpet muted the sound of shuffling feet as they walked over to the window. The intruder glanced over at the auburn-haired beauty and pulled down on the chord, opening the blinds that shielded the sliding glass door that led out to the balcony.
Blinded by the incoming sunlight, Wendy groaned and threw her other arm over her face and turned over.
"Time to get up, sweetheart", said Jack.
Wendy turned over to look at her uncle and sat up at once, covering herself with the blanket. She was wearing a nightdress, but was not expecting to get a wakeup call from him. "What the hell are you doing in here?"
"It's 11:30", Jack answered.
"Well, can you get out so I can get dressed, please?" Wendy asked him.
Jack scoffed at her with a smirk and turned around to head out. He shut the door behind him.
Wendy threw the blanket off of her and placed her feet on the floor. "God", she muttered, standing up and walking over to the bathroom. She locked the door and took off her nightdress and took a shower. Once she was done, she dried herself off with a towel and got dressed and brushed her hair as she walked out to the living room. Jack was sitting in an armchair, staring at the TV while shuffling his lucky deck. Wendy walked over and sat down on the couch and listened about the murder of three gentlemen from Wall Street that was being broadcasted on the channel.
"Oh, my God", Wendy whispered.
"It's a tough job, but somebody had to take 'em out", said Jack.
Wendy looked at Jack and questioned him, "Excuse me?"
"People are saying it was a man dressed up as a clown that did it", said Jack. "That's what all these people are talking about now. Three less jerks in Gotham and only one-million, five-hundred thousand more to go." He pulled out a card from his deck and tossed it up in the air. He caught it and looked at it. The Four of Spades.
Wendy looked back at the TV. The newsman reported that police had no clue as to the identity of the shooter, but advised viewers to be on the lookout.
Meanwhile, on the other side of town, Arthur was at Ha-Ha's Talent Booking gathering his things from his locker. He emptied out his locker quietly. Nobody even bothered to say goodbye to him. Except Gary.
"Hey, Arthur. I heard about what happened. Sorry, mate."
Arthur smiled at the empathetic regard from the small man. He truly was a nice fellow, unlike Randall.
"Yeah, doesn't seem right. Getting fired like that."
Arthur dropped his smile immediately and cursed the man he used to call friend. He was one to talk, seeing how it was all his fault that Arthur got fired in the first place.
One of the men playing cards at the table turned in his seat and asked him, "Did you really bring a gun to a children's hospital? Why the fuck would you do that?"
"What, where you going to shoot yourself if your dancing act didn't work out?" Another one asked.
Arthur closed his locker and picked up his bag, ignoring their comments. Everybody laughed at him, but Arthur found the perfect jab to nail the one that ratted him out.
"Why don't you ask Randall?" Arthur remarked. "It was his gun. I still owe you for that, don't I?" He turned around and started to walk away.
"What the fuck are you talking about?" Randall questioned him. "Stop talking out of your ass, Arthur."
Arthur didn't look back at the fat bastard. His only response was holding up a horn and honking it before tossing it carelessly over his left shoulder. He turned the corner and disappeared.
"Uh-oh", Arthur exclaimed sarcastically. He came back and said, "I forgot to punch out." He then proceeded to beat the living daylights out of a clock that was hanging on the wall. He struck the clock about five times before it finally came off the wall and fell onto the floor. He turned again and walked out, laughing maniacally. He walked down the stairs and looked up at a sign hanging above the exist door. Don't forget to smile, it read. Arthur reached into his bag and took out a marker and blacked out the 'forget to' part of the sign. With a spring in his step, he walked out of the building for the last time.
Wendy took a taxi to 135th Street. She was hoping to catch Arthur at Ha-Ha's before heading to work at Grimaldi's Diner. On the way, she saw a person standing on a corner wearing a clown mask.
"They're sellin' masks", said the taxi driver. He sounded like he was from New York.
Wendy looked forward in her seat and asked him, "What?"
"They're selling clown masks based off the description of the guy who killed those rich tycoons. I guess it's a thing now. There's a lot of people in this city who are happy the guy did it."
"Why?" Wendy questioned him.
"Who knows? People in this town hear something on the news, they make a big deal out of it than it really is", said the taxi driver. "They say the guy who did it is a hero."
"I don't believe it", said Wendy. She looked out the window again and said, "A man goes around killing people and they want to praise him as a hero? I don't think so. Personally, I think it's scary."
The taxi driver glanced at the red-headed woman in the rear view mirror. Wendy continued looking out the window. She looked anxious about seeing that clown on the corner.
The taxi driver shifted his eyes forward and made a left turn. "So, Ha-Ha's Talent Booking, huh?"
"I know. Ironic, isn't it?" Wendy asked with a chuckle. "The one place I shouldn't be going to and yet I'm going there anyway." She looked forward and asked, "Do you think I'm doing the wrong thing?"
"Hey, it's your time, it's your money", said the taxi driver.
The taxi driver pulled up next to the sidewalk on 135th Street. He turned in his seat to look at Wendy. He looked like he was in his early thirties. He had dark eyes and a mole on his cheek.
Wendy paid the driver and got out of the cab. The driver rolled down his window and said to her, "You know, this is a dangerous part of town to be in. If you ever need a ride, look up Travis Bickle."
"Travis Bickle", Wendy repeated. "I'll remember that."
"Lots of luck, sweet cheeks", said the taxi driver.
Wendy turned her head and gave him a look, but chose to ignore that remark. The taxi driver took off, leaving her to fend for herself. Looking across the street, Wendy saw Arthur coming out through the door of Ha-Ha's Talent Booking. He was carrying a brown shopping bag in one hand. He turned and spat on the building and then started walking away. He pulled out a cigarette from the pocket of his jacket and held it between his lips as he brought out a lighter and lit up. He turned around when he heard somebody call out his name. A heavy-set man wearing clown makeup and dressed in red overalls and a white shirt came up to him and started talking to Arthur. He was obviously a coworker, maybe even a friend. Wendy stood on the other side of the street, watching them from afar. Whatever it was they were talking about, the heavy-set man seemed desperate. He grabbed Arthur by the lapel of his jacket, as though he were threatening him or pleading him for a favor. Wendy couldn't tell. Arthur shook his head and said something to the man and turned around and started to walk away again, taking a long drag. The heavy-set man tried talking to him again. Arthur turned around and looked at him. The heavy-set man came closer and tried to appeal to Arthur, who laughed and walked back over to him. He grabbed the big red nose from the man's face and tossed it on the ground. The man went chasing after it and Arthur turned with a smile on his face, smoking a cigarette. He laughed as he turned the corner and disappeared.
Wendy looked both ways before carefully crossing the street and ran after him. She turned the corner and walked up to him as she called out his name. "Arthur!"
Arthur turned around and took the cigarette out of his mouth. "Wendy, what are you doing here?" He asked her, surprised to see her on this side of town.
"I thought I'd come see you while you were at work", Wendy answered. "But I guess you're not working today."
"Actually, I just went there to gather my things", said Arthur. He crouched down and extinguished his cigarette on the ground.
"Why?" Wendy asked him.
Arthur stood up and told her as he flicked his used-up cigarette away, "They let me go."
"Let you go? You mean you were fired?" Wendy questioned him.
Arthur blinked and lowered his eyes to the ground. Then he looked at her and said nervously, "Yeah."
"What?! Why were you fired?" Wendy asked him, sounding outraged.
"That guy I was talking to thought I was a freak", Arthur told her. "My boss said I wasn't funny enough and that I'd be better off finding another job somewhere else."
"He can't do that!" Wendy protested. She grabbed Arthur's hand and said, "Come on, I'm going to go back there and-"
Arthur pulled her back and said, "It's too late, Wendy. I've already been fired."
"But that's unfair!" Wendy shouted. "Did you at least tell him about those punk kids that beat you up?"
"Yes, I did, but he still didn't believe me", said Arthur.
Wendy turned around and groaned in frustration, running her fingers through her auburn curls as she walked away. She turned back and lowered her arms down to her sides and walked back over to Arthur, sighing. She wanted to scream at somebody or cry for him or do something, anything. Arthur waited patiently for her to calm down. He could tell she was getting worked up.
"Did you really come down here just to see me?" Arthur asked her, wondering if she really meant it.
"Well, of course I did", said Wendy. "Just because there's a killer clown on the loose doesn't mean I didn't want to come see you in your clown outfit."
Arthur did his best not to show any sign of guilt over his action. He wasn't bothered by it, but he still didn't want Wendy to know. He didn't think she knew it was him. Either way, he was glad she was blind to his crime.
Wendy looked at the bag he was holding and asked him, "What do you have in there?"
"Oh, just the usual", said Arthur, opening the bag for her to see. "Clown makeup, wig, flower squirter, balloons-"
"A clown nose?" Wendy asked him, reaching in and pulling out a Styrofoam red nose, squeezing it a bit.
"You like that?" Arthur asked her.
"I've always wanted to wear one of these", said Wendy. She looked at Arthur and asked him, "Can I try it on?"
"Yeah, here." Arthur took the clown nose from Wendy and placed it gently into her own nose. The soft material of the rounded clown nose felt ticklish on her face.
Wendy touched the red nose on her face and looked at Arthur with soft eyes. "How does it look?" She asked him.
Arthur smiled and said, "It actually looks better on you than me."
"Really?"
"Yeah, it actually does."
The screeching of tires caught their attention. Arthur and Wendy looked in the same direction and saw a stretch limo park on the other side of the street. The door opened and a man stepped out. Dressed in a dark topcoat and fedora, Jack Napier walked across the street and over to his niece. Wendy moved closer to Arthur for protection, feeling an uneasiness coming from the uncle she once sought out.
"Hey, you got a minute?" Jack asked her. He sounded sincere, but Wendy could never be too sure with him anymore. She nodded in response. Jack lowered his face and pinched the space between his eyes with a tired groan. He looked at his niece and said, "Listen, about the other day...I didn't mean to scare you. It's just been a rough couple of days at work, that's all. You may have noticed I've been a little crabby lately. No hard feelings?"
"It's fine, Uncle Jack", said Wendy, timidly.
Jack nodded, giving her a modest, genuine smile and then giving her a look of confusion. "I thought you said you hated clowns", he said, noticing the Styrofoam red nose.
Wendy removed the clown nose and handed it back to Arthur, who slipped it into his coat pocket. "Um, Arthur, this is my uncle, Jack Napier", said Wendy. "Uncle Jack, this is Arthur Fleck. The one I was telling you about."
"So, this is the famous Arthur I've heard so much about", said Jack. He offered his hand out and said, "Nice to meet you, at last."
"Thank you, sir", said Arthur, shaking his hand. "Wendy's talked so much about you, as well."
"I hope she hasn't told you everything", said Jack. "Where do you live, kid?"
"I live in the downtown area with my mother", Arthur answered.
Jack raised an eyebrow at him in amusement. "A family man, huh? I like that in a guy."
Arthur smiled politely, but Wendy looked uncertain, not sure what kind of mind game Jack was playing at. She could see right through his facade and asked him, "Is there something wrong, Uncle Jack?"
"Not at all", Jack answered, turning his attention over to his niece. "But with all this talk about a killer clown on the loose, the guys and I were thinking about taking precaution. In case you want to get killed, I suggest you arm yourself."
"If your suggesting I need a bodyguard, I don't think I'm interested in what you got or what you have to offer me", said Wendy. "Let's go, Arthur."
Jack grabbed her by her arm and pulled her back, turning her to face him. He looked infuriated. Slowly, the madness on his crazed face lessened and he straightened out his suit and fixed his hair.
"You didn't let me finish speaking", said Jack. "If you don't protect yourself, you gonna get fucked."
The goon in the driver's seat honked the horn and said, "Come on, Jack! Let's go!"
Jack turned his body and raised his hand. "Yeah, I'll be right there", he said. He turned back to Wendy and said, "I'm gonna be working late tonight. I don't think I can make it home before ten."
"I don't mind", said Wendy.
"I know you don't. And I know you're old enough to take care of yourself, but here in Gotham, these people will eat you up. Now that some psycho is on the loose killing rich people, you can imagine the chaos that will ensue. You're not scared this clown guy might show up out of nowhere and start killing somebody else, are you?"
"Of course I am", Wendy answered him. He knew damn well that she was terrified of the whole killer clown situation.
"Then you know it's not my job to babysit you", said Jack. He reached into his coat pocket and said, "I know you walk to work sometimes, and I don't trust a woman to use a gun, so I got you a little gift." He pulled out a narrow black box and gave it to Wendy. She opened the small black box and found it was a silver switchblade with a black handle. Arthur felt a little uncomfortable seeing Wendy holding a weapon, but chose not to say anything.
"I want you to carry that thing everywhere you go, otherwise some guy will drag you off the street and not think twice about selling you off as his whore", said Jack. "You got nothing to worry about, kid. Nothing happens in this town without my say-so." Jack nodded his head toward Arthur and told him, "Stay out of trouble, kid. I might just learn to like you." He walked across the street and got in the limo with his friend. The limo started and drove off.
Wendy still wondered what exactly he was trying to pull. He gave her a weapon to defend herself, but there was something about his sudden niceness that threw her off. "What kind of drugs are you on, Jack Napier?"
Suddenly, Arthur felt a spasm in his cheek and tried in vain to stop the powerful urge to burst out laughing, but the battle was lost on his part. Anger and sadness filled his eyes, as the profound laughter erupted from his mouth, causing Wendy to jump a bit and gasp in fright. Arthur noticed he had scared her and quickly turned away and placed a hand over his mouth to try and muffle some of his laughing.
"What? Was it something I said?" Wendy asked him.
Arthur shook his head as another fit of stress-filled laughter forced its way out of him. He placed his free hand on his stomach, feeling a slight pain in his lower torso. He couldn't stop his laughing. He uncovered his mouth and stuck his hand into his pocket, pulling out a card and handing it to Wendy. "I'm sorry", he managed to get out. "I have a...Ha ha!...I have a condition- Ha ha ha ha ha ha!"
Wendy looked at the card Arthur had given her and read it to herself:
Forgive my laughter. I have a condition. (More on the back.)
It is a medical condition that causes sudden, frequent and uncontrollable laughter that does not match the way you feel. It can happen to people with a brain injury or neurological disorders.
Thank you!
(Please return the card.)
Arthur went on with his laughing fit for another two minutes and moved his hand from his mouth to his throat as the laughing ceased. He struggled to breathe for a minute, but finally managed to calm down. Wendy looked at him with sadness and confusion, feeling sorry for him. There were tears in Arthur's eyes, but they did not flow. He stayed silent, feeling ashamed and embarrassed that Wendy had seen him at his most vulnerable.
Wendy placed a comforting hand on his left shoulder and asked him, "Are you okay?"
Arthur kept his head down, not wanting her to look at his face. He wanted to cry, but he had nothing to show for it expect the watery eyes from his laughing fit. "I'm sorry you had to see that", he murmured.
"Arthur, look at me", Wendy told him.
He didn't comply.
Wendy tried asking him again. "Arthur, look at me. Please?"
Arthur didn't want to, but knowing she wouldn't give up until he did, he slowly turned and lifted his head and looked at her, miserably.
"Arthur, it's okay", Wendy reassured him. "It's nothing to be ashamed of. It's just a condition. I know you didn't mean it...Do you want to talk about it?"
Arthur took his time in answering her. "No. I have an appointment with my therapist this evening", he said.
Wendy nodded in understanding and said, "Okay." She dare not question him on why he needed therapy, for she already knew the answer. Arthur turned around and started walking away from her.
"Hey, we're still on for Saturday night, aren't we?" Wendy called out to him at the last minute.
Arthur stopped and turned back to look at her. He seemed surprised to hear her say that. He walked back over to Wendy and asked her, "You mean you don't mind going out with me?"
"No", said Wendy. "Arthur, I don't care if you have a condition. I like you for just being you."
"Who am I, Wendy?" Arthur asked her.
Wendy shrugged, not sure what he wanted her to say or how to put it to him without hurting his feelings. "You're just...Arthur", she answered truthfully. "You're Arthur Fleck. And that's all I care about."
Somewhere underneath all that fragility and humanity left within him, Arthur felt just a tiny glimmer of hope that not all was lost for him and Wendy. She was the only person who hadn't judged him because of his condition.
Wendy got lost in his bright green eyes for a moment and then quickly snapped herself back into reality. She cleared her throat and said, "Well, I should be getting to work here soon. If I'm late, they'll dock me."
"I understand", said Arthur.
"You try and have a nice day now, Arthur", said Wendy. She said goodbye and started walking away.
"Bye, Wendy", said Arthur.
Wendy turned back and waved at him. "Bye."
Arthur watched her go, her curly bush of auburn hair in excellent contrast with that long black coat she was wearing. Whoever her uncle was, he must have been either very rich or very powerful.