AN: Curious as to what happened to the kind soul responsible for this? He gets his in 'Fear Toxin Reaction of the Year Awards'.

Sketch1997-Creepily enough, somebody sent us an anniversary card. I didn't know we had an anniversary. We don't. One less date to remember! My parents were going to celebrate theirs one year, but they forgot.

Johanna Crane-I despise Valentine's day. Although I did manage to get a poisoned batch of chocolates out a few years ago...that was nice. There was a sharp drop in chocolate sales for the rest of the year.

Christineoftheopera-Day off? What's that? We should take one of those rides...remember when we went to the fair in college? And got food poisoning from cotton candy.

Jonathan Crane is not a morning person. The only thing he does in the morning is sit down and drink his coffee. No reading, no television, no talking. His world revolves around the mug in his hand, and nothing else.

So when one of his henchmen comes bursting in, dragging the television behind him, he is not pleased. Looks like he's just found himself a new subject.

"Boss! Boss, you gotta see this."

What's his name again…ah. Matthews.

"Matthews…"

"You're on TV."

So? That has long ceased to be exciting.

He takes another sip of his coffee, debating on whether or not to use the needle or the aerosol.

"…records pertaining to Jonathan Crane, also known as the Scarecrow…

He nearly spits the coffee out. What? Records? What records? What is this?

"…have been released to the press…"

Who is responsible for this? Oh, when he finds out, he'll kill them! Painfully!

"Are they legit, Boss? Did ya really get your ass handed to ya by an old lady?"

The men snicker. He sets his cup down and reaches for his scythe.

Not two minutes later, two heads are rolling on the floor and the wall is spattered with blood. He'll clean that later.

"Jonathan? What's going on? I heard screams…what did you do?"

"Some kind soul has released my records to the public." he says, wiping off the blade of his scythe with a napkin. "I don't appreciate that very much."

"Oh, no…"

"When I find out who is responsible for this, they'll have to die. Obviously."

"Jonathan, for heaven's sake…"

"It's either kill them all now or never hear the end of this." He reaches for his coffee cup again. "Killing them is easier."

"Oh, no…"

He ignores that and bats one of the heads aside. He'll finish his coffee, but after that he has to pay a visit to the news station.

"Reporting live from Gotham Today…"

"Reports that the Scarecrow has…"

"OH GOD WHY!"

There. That should keep them busy while he tracks down whoever is responsible.

"Really, love, aren't you overreacting?"

"No. First of all, this sort of thing is illegal. Second of all, I have a reputation."

"Yes, but…seriously?" She points to the now-flaming news building. "That's called overkill."

"It's called making a point." A shrieking, eyeless reporter flings his arms around his knees and gets stabbed with the scythe for his trouble. "I will not stand for this Kitty, and that's final."

She rolls her eyes.

"Come on. That's enough revenge for one day. We'll do some research tomorrow."

When he finds out who is responsible for this, they'll wish they'd never been born.

THE END