A/N: Ha ha, wow, I didn't expect to get any reviews for this story! Thanks to Lady Clark-Weasley of Books, Tiger's Eye of Gold, HelenaTwilight and Sweetjg for reviewing/faving/subscribing! Oh, and be sure to enjoy the new characters added to the story...
In the Big Brother house, things had gone smoothly… for about ten minutes. It seemed the other housemates would only get peace when the Joker was either busy showering in the luxury bathroom, or being reprimanded in the Diary Room.
Narrator: 8.22am. Bruce is in the Diary room.
'…and Big Brother, it's not like I lack patience or anything – but Joker is seriously…' he ran his hands through his hair in an agitated manner, 'Getting on everybody's nerves! He struts around as if he owns the place, he orders everyone about, he keeps…' Bruce trailed off, sighing.
'Have you known Joker for a long time, Bruce?'
Bruce glanced at the camera. 'Oh Big Brother, you have no idea…'
oooooooooOOOOooooooooo
Narrator: 8.52am. Alfred and Dopey are in the Kitchen.
Alfred was bustling about in the kitchen, attempting to get the first meal of the day out of the way. He was wearing a classic Homer Simpson apron over his stripy pyjamas, and was accompanied by the rather thoughtful clown, who only gave his name as Dopey ('It's my codename, you see…'). The two of them were sharing a rather enlightening conversation over a packet of biscuits, which Alfred had found stashed in the mini fridge.
'Right, Dopey…' Alfred glanced at the clown who was staring into space, 'What should we have for breakfast on this fine morning?'
'Food,' replied Dopey in a very serious tone, not breaking his intense gaze from the ceiling, 'Food is always good.'
Alfred smiled. 'Yes, you're right, but what kind of food?'
Dopey thought about this for a few moments before replying. 'Edible food.'
'How about Cornflakes, toast and tea?' offered Alfred.
'Is that edible?' The clown accomplice began to back away, looking terrified. 'Boss said that Cornflakes were for sissy's…'
'Well, Dopey, you can either have what I'm serving or nothing at all.' Alfred began to drum his fingers on the kitchen counter as he watched the other man think this over in a very slow, thoughtful manner. A few minutes later, he nodded, and Alfred returned the nod, before retrieving several bowls and plates from the cupboard under the sink.
'So…' said Dopey casually, gazing at the ceiling, 'You're Bruce's servant?'
'Old friend, more like,' chuckled Alfred, scattering cornflakes into several bowls, 'But yes, I do serve him, when he needs it.'
'Oh,' said Dopey. He began to back up against the counter, doing ninja moves, and in the process, knocked over the box of Cornflakes, which went flying across the room.
Alfred sighed. 'Can you clean that up please, Dopey?'
The clown looked baffled. 'Clean what up?'
'Never mind, never mind… you go and sit down, I'll sort it out…'
oooooooooOOOOooooooooo
Narrator: 9.13AM. All of the housemates are at the breakfast table.
'What the hell is this?' The Joker scowled at the plate of toast before him, as if it was too basic to be consumed.
'And they say you're a genius,' chucked Alfred, who was stirring his cornflakes around in his bowl, 'but in answer to your question, it's toast. And yes, you are going to eat it. It's the rule.'
The Joker rolled his eyes. 'Pardon me for sounding sardonic, Alfred, but I have a very rich diet. Anything I consume should be, ah, of the best quality? Not of this BLEEEEEP.' He sat down in a heap next to Bruce, who looked as if he was enjoying every minute of the Joker's displeasure.
The Clown accomplices finished their meals first, before scattering off to the garden, muttering between themselves and throwing dark, condescending glances towards the Joker.
'Bunch of traitors,' he muttered, stabbing his toast with apparent dislike.
Bruce leaned closer towards the Joker, his expression flickering between mock concern and amusement. 'You didn't actually think they liked you, did ya?'
The Joker raised an eyebrow. 'Like… such a positive word… with many negative outlooks. You see, Brucey dear, these people who say they like you are actually a bunch of liars…' he smacked his lips, his dark eyes alert.
'Uh… yeah,' said Bruce, 'Isn't that basically what I just—'
'Furthermore,' interrupted the Joker, 'the statement applies not only to me, the agent of chaos, but you too.'
This threw Bruce for a moment. 'Hey, people like me!'
'Oh yes,' chuckled the Joker, sipping his Coffee in a dignified manner, 'Everybody admires a grown up man who dresses up as a bat, and goes around eyeing their children up.'
'Excuse me? Do you want to re-phrase that, 'cause I'm pretty sure that was a load of bleeeep!' Bruce thumped his fist angrily on the table, causing the jug of milk to fall over and leak everywhere. The Joker raised his eyes lazily towards the mess. 'You should clear that up Bruce, Alfred does everything you know.' He shoved the remaining piece of toast in his mouth before standing up, adjusting his tie. 'Lovely breakfast, Alfredo – do you mind if I call you Alfredo?'
'Actually,' said Alfred, 'I find it rather insulting.'
The Joker nodded. 'Right…. Well, I'll be in the bathroom…' He started to waltz backwards towards the luxury bedrooms, humming a tune that repeated itself over and over again. 'Do you think I could become a composer?' He swayed his head from side to side. 'Something like, ahem, duhn duhn duhn why so serious duhn duhn duhn…'
'Not exactly my taste, Master Joker, but it may pass,' said Alfred kindly. The Joker saluted in response before disappearing from sight entirely. Bruce looked surprised. 'Master Joker? Alfred, what the hell? You're not meant to be encouraging him…'
Alfred shrugged. 'In my past experiences, Master Wayne, I've experienced being friendly comes a long way. You'll see what I mean one day. Right now, you're going to help me in the kitchen, right?'
'I never knew working in the kitchen supplied logic,' muttered Bruce, as he began to stack up dishes on his arm.
'Logic can be found in any place… you just need to have the inquisitive mind to find it… come on, we better get these washed, scrubbed and put away before the clowns storm in demanding yet another breakfast…' Alfred began to walk towards the kitchen, his smart shoes clicking. Bruce followed suit, sighing heavily.
oooooooooOOOOooooooooo
Narrator: 9.58am. Joker is in the Luxury bathroom.
'Ba da da da da…' The Joker was leaning against the mirror, his legs pressing against the marble cupboards as he did the usual make-up routine of the day. Housemates only had ten minutes to get ready every day, and for Joker, that usually took about three minutes (which only included throwing his clothes on and splashing water on his face and under arms), which left seven minutes exactly to apply his make-up, which was exasperating, considering it usually took a full hour.
Carefully, he dragged the ruby red lipstick across his lips, making sure to make it extra messy, before pulling it across his scars to emphasize his madness. He preferred it when his scars looked as if they were bloodied every day; it made people look at him more. And if the public were watching? Well, they'd get quite the little show, wouldn't they? He reached for the black bottle of eye make-up and smeared it dramatically over his eyes, dabbing white face paint in the areas he'd mixed.
Within five minutes, to his immense surprise, he was done.
'Not bad,' he praised his reflection, putting a hand on his hip, 'Not bad at all, Mister J. You're looking pretty good…' He waltzed out of the bathroom, only to bump into Bruce, who had been waiting somewhat patiently outside. 'Done yet?' he asked sarcastically, tapping his foot.
The Joker copied his tapping. 'Actually, Brucey dear, I have two minutes to spare, which is good for me.' He licked his lips, causing Bruce to frown slightly. 'What's wrong, Brucey? Is it the scars?'
'It's everything about you,' growled Bruce, pushing past him and into the bathroom. The Joker stared at the door, shaking his head in surprise.
oooooooooOOOOooooooooo
Narrator: 10.27am. Bruce is in the swimming pool.
Bruce padded across the dry grass towards the swimming pool, a towel around his shoulders. He definitely needed to work out… he approached the pool, not really looking at it as he removed the towel and black shirt he was sporting. He wriggled out of his trousers, which left nothing but a pair of black trunks. He cracked his knuckles before hopping up and down, and prepared to dive in.
From were the Joker was watching in the house, he thought that Bruce was either being genuinely stupid, or stupid for the sake of the viewers. 'Pstttt,' he whispered to Dopey, leaning closer, 'Go and push Bruce over in the pool.'
'What?' whispered Dopey, staring at the ceiling instead of the Joker.
'Go and push Bruce in the pool. And if you do, I'll … think of something nice. Go on.' The Joker pushed Dopey gently and the clown accomplice staggered to his feet, before trotting neatly and silently out into the garden. Bruce was still doing his exercises, and as instructed, Dopey slipped over, before giving Bruce a firm shove in his back.
As planned, Bruce fell spectacularly into the pool, banging his shins on the surface as he fell. 'WHAT THE BLEEP?' He cried, spitting water from his mouth. 'What was that for, Dopey?'
Dopey shrugged, staring at the sky. 'The sky is such a pretty colour,' he replied solemnly. Bruce stood up in the pool, realising how shallow it really was. 'WHAT KIND OF POOL IS THIS?' he shouted angrily, 'HOW AM I MEANT TO KEEP FIT?'
Inside, the Joker was hooting with laughter. Oh, how he LOVED to show Bruce up! It was such fun!
oooooooooOOOOooooooooo
Narrator: 10.42am. Alfred is in the Diary Room.
'So, how are you finding Big Brother so far, Alfred?'
Alfred glanced around the room as he replied in his usual, polite tone. 'Well, it's been alright – apart from the snoring from Master Joker and the general bitching from his accomplices – that can get a little tiring, I will admit…' he paused, glancing at his hands before continuing, 'But yes, Big Brother, it's been just dandy so far.'
'Alfred, who do you relate to most in the Big Brother house?'
'Hm…' Alfred leant back in the red chair as he thought. 'I'd say Master Wayne, but I've known him since he was this high—' he held his hand a few inches off the floor before straightening up again, 'But yeah, I'd have to say Dopey, probably.'
'And why is that?' came the cool, female response.
'Well, he's very thoughtful like me – bit blunt, I will admit, but aren't we all at times?' Alfred chewed his lip for a moment before jumping into a rant. 'Master Wayne – although I usually have nothing against him, after all, he's been very good to me, he has, but Master Joker is just so much more… fun. Please don't tell Master Bruce what I said though, Big Brother…'
'Alfred, any discussion in the diary room is private and will not be repeated.'
Alfred's face relaxed. 'Oh, good, good…'
'You may now leave the Diary room.'
oooooooooOOOOooooooooo
Narrator: 11am. Joker and Bruce are in the Luxury Bedroom – arguing.
'—and you wonder why Rachel didn't like you, Hm?' The Joker waved his hands about in the air dramatically, his face set in a sneer, 'I mean, come on, Brucey-boo, you dress up as a bat! Is that to impress her… or me? Because you know—' he licked his lips as he approached Bruce, 'It's not much of a turn on for me…'
WHAM.
Bruce's fist made contact with the Joker's face in a few seconds. The Joker began to howl with laughter as blood began to trickle down his chin. 'SEE! You're only ANGRY because I'm RIGHT! He ha he hoo ha! You know Brucey, assaulting me is a form of… oh, what's the word… personal harassment…'
'You're a personal harassment to the bleep bleeping world!' shouted Bruce, grabbing the Joker by his collar and shoving him against the wall, his fist aimed for another punch. But still, the Joker continued to giggle. 'So are you, Brucey – did you think Gotham actually respected you, mmm? Let me show you what people are really like… when you let me go, that is.'
Bruce let go of the madman's collar, his chest rising and falling rapidly. 'You're so annoying…'
'Yes,' replied the Joker, 'and what else? Sexy?'
'In your dreams!' Bruce turned towards the door.
'Aw, come on Brucey…' The Joker began to follow him. 'Batty, darling, you know you love me really…'
Bruce ignored him.
'Bruceyyy…?'
Bruce marched out into the lounge, covering his ears.
'NANANA BATMAN!' The Joker rugby tackled Bruce from behind to the floor, were they both crashed superbly. 'It's rude to ignore someone, y'know—' the Joker sat on Bruce's chest and beamed at him.
'Get off me, you worthless—'
'Worthless? No dear, I'm worth ten of you any day—'
'You murder people for FUN! How can YOU be better than ME?'
The Joker shrugged. 'Easily.'
A calm female voice intruded on their argument to announce the familiar words: 'This is Big Brother. Will all housemates gather on the sofas?'
'Huh,' said Alfred, stepping over Bruce and the Joker, 'You're both so childish.' He sat down in an armchair, looking completely and utterly exhausted from the amount of cleaning he'd been doing. Bruce sat opposite him, the Joker sat on the arm of Bruce's armchair, and the Accomplices all huddled together on the couch, muttering amongst themselves and casting the other three men dark looks.
'Thank you,' came the cool voice, 'Big Brother has an announcement.'
'Are we allowed to use weapons?' asked the Joker cheerfully, beaming at his accomplices in a way that made their spines tingle.
Alfred sighed wearily, slumping in his armchair.
'There will be several new additions to the Big Brother house as of follows…'
Bruce and the Joker exchanged looks.
'Rachel Dawes… Harvey Dent… Commissioner Gordon, and…'
Joker groaned.
'The Doctor.'
'Looks like they sent a man in a white coat for ya, pal,' whispered Bruce spitefully, before straightening up as the dark haired woman wandered into the room. 'Bruce! Oh, Bruce, it's so brilliant to see you—'
Commissioner Gordon looked around disdainfully. 'Looks a bit off in here… very bright and very English…'
Harvey Dent nodded. 'That's right, Gordon. Ah…' his gaze lingered on the Joker. 'Who let that mad, psychopathic son of a bleep into the house?'
'The people who run it, I suppose,' replied the Joker, looking thoughtful. 'What's the matter Dent? You look worried. I don't like that.'
'AH! Brilliant!' The Doctor waltzed into the room, looking around. 'I'm sure I've been here before, in the year 200,100 – I think! Hm…' He whipped out his sonic screwdriver and twirled it in his hands. He looked around at the other people in the room, who looked disgusted and intrigued. 'Ah, hello, sorry about that…'
'Excellent,' breathed Harvey, 'Another Psychopath. That makes two of ya, Joker.'
The Joker looked at the Doctor curiously. 'No, no, he's not my type. Too…'
'Hyper?' the Doctor wandered over to the other housemates and twirled around, looking up at the ceiling.
'He's just like Dopey,' muttered Alfred in mild affection.
'Dopey? Out of Snow White? Bit of a sad ending, wasn't it, eh?' The Doctor beamed at Alfred, and the elderly man lowered his gaze.
ooooooooOOOOoooooo
Mel, Sami and Steph stared at the television set in disbelief. Mel lowered her can of coke, Steph took off her glasses and wiped them, and Sami just sat very, very still.
'That's surely not the Doctor,' breathed Steph, 'HE'S MINE! Sami, you can have Bruce.'
Sami smirked. 'And Mel, looks like the Joker's well into Rachel…'
'Nuh uh,' Mel shook her head, 'She's too… not his type?'
'Right,' nodded Sami, 'You wish!'
'Shut up!' Mel punched Sami in the arm.
Steph glanced at her two best friends. 'We can talk all we want now – it's a commercial break…'
The trio let out a sigh of relief. At least their programme would start up soon!