Thomas and Martha were unaware of all the violence and chaos going on outside the movie theater. They were only trying to enjoy some time with their son and only child, Bruce. Once the Zorro movie was over, they walked out of the theater, only to find their limousine had been set on fire. There was some kind of a riot going on out in the streets. A bunch of people dressed in clown makeup and wearing clown masks went running by. Some were carrying stolen televisions and waving smoke grenades. Others were smashing windows on cars. Police sirens wailed everywhere. Bruce was scared, but his father told the family they would go down the alley to avoid the mob. The moment they did that, however, somebody followed them. A sinister-looking man wearing a heavy coat. His hands were inside his pockets.

"Wayne!" Joe called out to him. The Wayne family turned around and looked at the criminal, who raised a gun and pointed it at the patriarch. "You still think we're fucking clowns?"

Thomas raised his hands and tried to talk some sense into him. "No, please!"

BANG!

Martha screamed her husband's name, watching as he fell dead on the ground. Looking at the murderer, she soon met the same fate and was shot, her blood spraying onto her son's frightened face. Joe grabbed at the string of pearls around her neck, breaking it and letting them spill onto the cold ground as she slumped down next to Thomas. Bruce stared up at Joe, thinking he would be next. Joe thought about it, but chose to spare his life. He would never hurt a child. Now that the rich couple who started all this was dead, his job was finished. He turned around and ran away, leaving a traumatized Bruce alone with the corpses of his parents.

He laid like one dead on the hood of the squad car. There was darkness all around him, but the voices he heard were faint. Suddenly, Arthur coughed up a bit of blood and turned over onto his side for a moment, then laid down on his back again. The voices grew louder. Arthur opened his eyes and lifted his head up. He sat up slowly and found there were people in clown masks and makeup all around him, some encouraging him to get up.

Arthur recovered his strength and stood up slowly, staggering to his feet so the people could get a better look at him. The crowd cheered louder, stunned and amazed that he was still alive.

Arthur looked around at his legion of masked followers, hardly believing what he was seeing. He had brought the city down into chaos. Half of Gotham was burning. The air was thick with smoke. All because he finally stood up for himself against some rich people. The crowd mistook it for standing up against the system. No matter how it looked, Arthur Fleck was still a hero in their eyes, someone who finally stood up against the over-privileged.

Despite the pain he was in, Arthur started to perform a slow, graceful dance for the crowd, spreading his arms and flicking his wrists as he turned and moved his body to the same cello music he heard before that night of the subway murders. The crowd loved it, still cheering for the clown man in the red suit. Suddenly, Arthur stopped dancing and realized it wasn't him they were applauding. It was his new character, Joker, they were in love with.

They were acknowledging Joker, but they still acted as though Arthur Fleck never existed him. They didn't care about him. They only cared about the clown. In that moment, Arthur finally realized who he had become.

He felt a warm, burning liquid escaping from his nostrils and quickly realized it was blood. He tasted the same bitter, ironlike substance in his mouth and touched his bottom lip, seeing a tiny droplet of the red liquid stain his fingertips. And then, for the sake of the crowd, Arthur smeared the blood from his mouth all over his lips, forming it into a bloody smile. The crowd went wild, the cheering and applauding growing louder for the clown man on top of the squad car, his bloodied face an icon to their movement. Arthur spread out his arms and turned toward the crowd again. They couldn't see it, but there were tears in his eyes. Not tears of joy, but tears of sadness. All his life, Arthur wanted to be accepted and loved for who he was, but if nobody could love him for just being himself, then he found no other choice but to accept himself as a joker.

His lifelong goal of bringing joy and laughter and happiness into the world had been demolished for good. If this was the only way for Arthur to receive the full-on recognition he so desperately craved, then so be it.

Meanwhile, Wendy regained consciousness and opened her eyes, her senses slowly returning to her awakening body. She couldn't see much at first and had to blink a couple of times to get her vision to focus. She closed her eyes shut again and moaned in pain as she tried to remember what happened. She had been in a car accident. The ambulance came out of nowhere and slammed right into the side of the police car. The taxi cab she was riding in had clipped the hood of the police car and flipped over, landing upside down. Her neck hurt, but she didn't think it was broken. She wasn't gravely injured, but she could feel cuts and bruises all over her body.

Turning her head slowly to her right, Wendy opened her eyes again and saw the man in the driver's seat was either unconscious or dead. Her lips moved, but no sound came out. She tried to find her voice again.

"Trav...Travis?..." The taxi driver did not move or speak. Wendy tried raising her voice a bit, hoping he would answer her. "Travis!" He didn't respond.

Wendy heard the sound of cheering and blinked and slowly looked to her left, seeing a swarm of people in clown masks surrounding a damaged police car about ten feet away. To her, that could only mean one thing.

Wendy found her strength again and scooted over toward the busted back window. The edges were lined with broken glass, but she had just enough space to crawl out. Turning over carefully, Wendy groaned in pain and slowly stepped her left leg out. She squeezed her eyes shut, hissing in pain when she moved her other leg out and set her foot on the ground. The street was littered with broken glass and she lost her right high heel, but wasn't going to bother retrieving it inside the cab. Wendy turned and started walking away from the taxi cab, limping on one leg and feeling like her right hip was bruised. She stopped for a minute and leaned over, wrapping an arm around her stomach. She looked down to see if there was any blood running down between her legs, but there wasn't any. She only had small cuts and bruises on her legs, but she didn't think she lost the baby.

Raising her head, Wendy looked up and saw Arthur slowly standing on top of the hood of the car, looking around at the sea of followers around him. His head was bleeding. His makeup was smeared, his hair all messy and disheveled. Part of his shirt was opened, exposing his neck and a small part of his chest. He didn't even know she was there. Part of Wendy wanted to scream and cry out his name, but she knew he wouldn't hear her.

Wendy turned around and looked over at the overturned taxi cab, seeing Travis had regained consciousness and manged to crawl out himself. He was standing near his broken vehicle, holding a hand to the left side of his head trying to stop the bleeding. He suffered a cut on his head, but was otherwise unharmed. He looked over at her, his eyes asking her if she was okay. Wendy looked away from Travis and turned back to look at Arthur, who started to perform a small dance for the crowd. He turned his back and Wendy couldn't see him, but judging from the movement of his arms, she could tell he had done something to his face. He suddenly spread his arms out, causing the crowd to burst into an uproar. He turned around again, and Wendy finally saw what he had done. There was a bloodied smile on his face, ugly and gruesome. Arthur Fleck was gone. The Joker had taken over.

Wendy couldn't believe it. Arthur was relishing in the amount of joy from his followers for causing all this destruction. He might have looked like a savior to the people of Gotham City, but to Wendy, he looked like a monster.

Suddenly, Wendy found herself dropping down on her knees, everything moving in slow motion as she started to lose her senses again. She couldn't feel anything. She couldn't hear or see anything. Everything went black. She fainted. Travis ran over to her at once and dropped down on his knees beside Wendy, cradling her body to his chest and making sure she wasn't dead. He checked her for a pulse, but it was very weak. He heard sirens approaching and looked over at Arthur and his legions of followers, hoping the cops were coming to arrest them. Travis picked up Wendy's body into his strong, muscular arms and turned away from the scene of the crime, taking the unconscious woman away to safety. The screwhead clown had taken over the man she loved. Wendy's love wasn't strong enough to break Arthur free from the spell of evil. Travis understood exactly how she felt.