CHAPTER 3

BANG.

Dead guy in a clown mask on the floor.

BANG.

Dead guy in a clown mask on the floor.

If they wouldn't get in my way when I'm walking, BANG

then they'd still be around.The Joker paused as he staggered down the hall, noticing that the idiotic idle chatter that had once assaulted his ears was gone.
His goons had all run off to their little rooms.

Scaredy cats.

He chuckled, giggled, and guffawed as he continued on his merry little way toward the kitchen.

On his way, he passed the rec. room, peeking inside and seeing that someone had left the T.V. on.

"Am I the only one in this place who thinks about conserving energy? We need to save the earth!" He exclaimed to an empty couch, his laughter growing.

Someone had been watching Shakespeare in Love- the box sat in the middle of the coffee table.

His smile faded.

"What pansy brought this shit in?" He roared to the empty room.

"Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?"

He glanced at the screen, watching as a girl in drag started to read some letter.
He sat down on the ratty couch.

"Thou art more lovely and more temperate."

She looked close to tears, but she was happy.

Happy people don't cry.

There were emotions that the Joker knew.

Pain.
Suffering.
Loathing.
Anger.
Fear.
Excitement.

Then there were emotions that he did not know.

Pity.
Guilt.
Remorse.
Compassion.
Love.

He could not understand the passion of a love sonnet.
He did not know any joys that could bring out tears.
He could not imagine the...

CLANG

The Joker's head snapped to the intruder at the door, automatically aiming his gun at the person's head.

In the doorway, there stood a twelve year old boy, pale as a sheet.
He froze where he crouched, his fingers inches away from the metal bowl of popcorn that he had dropped.

"Sit down Boomer."

"Okay Boss."

The boy left the popcorn where it fell, and went to sit with the Joker on the couch.

"Is this your movie kid?"

"No."

"Liar."

They sat together and continued to view the film until the Joker interrupted again.

"She looks afraid. Why is she afraid?"

Boomer almost jumped out of his skin. He had always been an antsy kid.

He looked at the screen again.

Shakespeare and Viola were naked, gazing at each other on her bed.

"She's afraid of loosing him. She's afraid of opening up. She's afraid of the future."

"Why? It's just sex." The Joker sneered.

"Because she loves him." Boomer mumbled. He was quite put out that the Joker didn't like his favorite movie.

"Are you a homo, kid?"

"No!" Boomer exclaimed defensively, his voice cracking.

"What's so great about this love shit anyways?" The Joker asked, crossing his arms across his chest.

"It's supposed to be the greatest feeling in the world. People die for love."

"Huh."

The Joker left Boomer sitting on the couch and went back to his office.

Isn't love supposed to be a common thing?

He stepped into his office.

Why don't I love anyone?
Because no one would ever love you.
Why not?
Have you looked in a mirror lately?

His hands flew to his scars.

I bet I could make someone love me.
You don't know how to love.
It seems simple enough.

He continued to think to himself- to think of a plan.

All he needed was a girl.

A girl that could fall in love with him.

She would fall in deep, and then he'd break her.

No one deserved to love if the Joker could not.