Hey! Been a while, hasn't it? I can't apologize enough for that. Here's a new chapter. You know the drill...

Dad always thought laughter was the best medicine, which I guess is why several of us died of tuberculosis.

~Jack Handey, "Deep Thoughts," Saturday Night Live

Chapter 6

Laughing Medicine

7:15 in the morning... the Saint Cathrine General Hospital, port side Gotham; the emergency department was in full swing. Nurses worked as well as they could under such a chaotic atmosphere. Between managing patients, their injuries and their insurance papers, the hospital staff was stretched thin. This was a normal morning for Saint Catherine, but the following events would completely blindside the hospital.

A woman frantically typed on her computer. The taste of her first cup of coffee was bitter in her mouth as she chewed on a pencil. This was definately a bad day to swear off of caffenated products. Her mind was completely focused on the computer screen and sending critical information up the the surgical staff. She heard the jiggling of bells too late.

"I don't feel so good." A weak voice came from over the counter. She spat out her pencil yet never took her eyes off the computer.

"Are you in pain, sir? Where?" She asked, a well practiced set of questions. There was a pause.

"It's my... funny bone. It won't stop tickling." The person was biting back laughter. A chill ran up the nurse's spine as her eyes shot upwards.

That smile, that infamous smile. Joker.

A giggle was held in Joker's throat as he saw the pure shock and suprise leap onto the woman's face. She was so stupified, she was frozen. The clown casually put a marred teddy bear up onto the counter while simultaneously leaning forward toward her.

"Careful... it's contagious." He whispered in her ear, past the whisps of brown hair. And with a flick of his fingers, he pressed the teddy bear's paw.

The hiss of compressed air came from the toy. Bitter fumes invaded the woman's face and into her lungs. She heard someone start laughing.

Joker watched his gas take effect on the over-worked hospital concerge. She giggled and laughed before finally falling out of her chair, howling in hysterics. Then her face froze in that lovable, twisted smile Joker adored so much. It was such a shame watching people work so hard without a good laugh. But that's why he decided to stake a claim in this hosiptal. He would be the Angel of Laughter.

"Hear me all you sick and injured people!" Joker spun on his heel, flinging off the overcoat and hat he was wearing. He fixed a toy stethescope around his neck and beamed at all the horrified expressions of the patients in the lobby. "The doctor... is in."

Retrieving two more of his special teddy bears from inside his doctor's coat, the Harliquin of Hate flung them to the floor. The toys popped, sending waves of concentrated Joker Gas over the large space. Screams of terror faded into laughter. Joker couldn't help but chortle along with his victims as the poison took hold of their bodies, barely noticing something wet trickle down his neck. Still giggling, he passed two of his permanently white fingers over his skin. He was sweating? Huh, the AC must be on the fritz? The clown passed it off and carried on with his plan to take over the hospital. He brought enough teddy bears to gas the entire building. He could take his time. No one knew he was here.

Little did he know it was the invasive toxin taking hold of his tired body. His deadly fever was beginning.

The sun was already drilling into Dick's skull. He should be hopping into the limosine at this very moment; he'd be on time for school even inspite of Alfred's "granny" driving. He scrunched his face and felt his eyemask adhered to his skin with sweat and fatigue. He hadn't slept all night and stealing a look at his mentor and father-figure, he had another one of those moments when he wondered how in the world Bruce could stay up for days on end without a drop of coffee.

"Joker was infected shortly after dinner time at the asylum. Which means that the NoiGon toxin's got a 12 hour headstart on us." Bruce said, catching Dick from nodding off. The teen sighed and yawned. "We need to do this quietly and quickly. Should the news of Joker's escape reach the public, all of Joker's enemies will be gunning for him, regardless of his hazordous disposition."

Dick fought the fuzz of sleep off as best he could.

"Ok, so we find Joker. What then? Will we just contain him until the poison takes its course or do you have a plan for that too?" Either way, he didn't have a problem with Joker meeting his Maker. The clown did a great job of embarrassing him and Batgirl while the Batman was injured.

Bruce felt anger burn and his grimace tighten.

"And if Joker dies? You're fine with that?" The man asked his ward. The teen looked back at him.

"Well, yeah." Dick returned. "I mean, Joker's got plenty of red in his record. Wouldn't it be for the best if... he, you know... doesn't make it?"

"Criminal Joker may be but he's still a victim to Black Mask's plot. It's what we do, Robin... regardless of who we're saving." Bruce answered. "And the NoiGon toxin Black Mask used on him is a very, very painful way to die."

Dick winced and let out a defeted abet childish sigh.

"OK, fine. We'll do this the honorable way. But for the record, I hate this." Bruce flicked a toggle on the Batmobile's dash impatiently, deciding to not acknowledge Dick's griping.

Joker would show soon; he never managed to be silent for long. Patience was something Bruce never prayed for, though; he found that even without some divine intervention, life taught him the cruelty of waiting. For now, he parked the long black vehicle in the shadows of an abandoned apartment building and began the unglamorous and unexciting waiting game.

Basil Karlo watched as breakfast was set on the floor and slid towards him. He was in solitary confinement again, thanks to the Joker-induced tantrum he had during dinner last night. The actor looked at his meal of lumpy, flavorless oatmeal, toast and fruit with disgust; how was he supposed to eat this without any eating utensil? Then his green eyes panned around the tiny padded room that he was religated to for at least another month.

He was SO sick of being here. Basil was so enraged and humiliated at being captured, he promised himself the next time he was free, he'd cause as much havoc as he could. He'd lay waste to streets of pretty downtown Gotham, knock over a few banks and capture any beautiful damsel he wanted. But most of all, he'd hunt Joker down and he'd kill him; he'd kill him so good! He'd paint the clown's white face red with his warm blood and make sure that Joker would never smile again, even if that meant removing each of his crooked yellow teeth.

In the middle of his mental murder, the flap of the heavily enforced cell door lifted open with a squeak. Basil glanced up and met the eyes of an orderly. A known crooked orderly among the inmates of Arkham.

"Forgot your spoon." The man muttered before flicking a key card through the shutter. Staring in disbelief at the piece of priceless plastic on the floor, Basil slowly approached it.

Picking it up, the tumblers of his cell were turned and the door opened. The crooked orderly stood in the doorway with a neutral, blank expression.

"The cameras are shut off. Courtesy of Black Mask." The man said, his eyes motioning to the key card. "In exchange for a small request."

Basil's eyes slanted.

"And what would that be?" The orderly's expressionless features never changed.

"To get your revenge on Joker." A homicidal, extraordinarily pleased smile split the red-head's face.

"With pleasurable prejudice." Basil was downright giddy as he grabbed the orderly in a muddy, enlarged hand and threw him into the empty cell. He appraised the man, snapping a mental picture before shutting and locking the door behind him.

Over a year and a half ago, Basil was supposedly "cured" of his shape-shifting abilities. But with so much residual Clayface serum still sloshed in his veins it wasn't hard to assume the form of the orderly he'd just attacked. Glancing at the blind cameras, Basil remembered Black Mask's gift. The key card, which reappeared around his neck, was his ticket to freedom and the annihilation of the harlequin.

Police Chief Ethan Bennett hated this feeling. The black, intense coffee was flying through his system, making him jittery but it had yet to reach his head. As he fumbled for his keys to lock his car door, he felt his world tilt strangely. Mind foggy but body pulsing with caffeine, Bennett felt little use to anyone let alone to match wits with someone like Black Mask. When he got word from Commissioner Ellen Yin about Black Mask's plot, he was jumping into uniform. Three cups of coffee later, he understood that he'd overdosed himself. Finally, after a great struggle with his keys, Ethan Bennett rushed into Gotham PD headquarters. He'd barely gotten into the lobby when his best leuitenant was at his side.

"Good morning sir." Leuitenant Murphy Mann greeted, gating beside his rushing superior.

"It's gonna be a long day Murphy." Ethan responded, glancing at his officer.

"Is it the Bat?" Mann questioned. Ethan gave only a nod.

"Yin will be in shortly. I need every section chief present or on speaker phone. I've sent out word to each jurisiticion. We have to work together to crack this." Running up the stairs, Ethan felt his heart race like a humming bird's wings. Curse caffeine! "Yin will give the full debriefing but I will say this, Murphy: we've got no room for error."

Leuitenant Mann nodded.

"Understood, sir. Should I call my wife then?" As the door to his office came into view, Ethan gave a nod.

"You should. It will be a twelve hour day; dinner is gonna be take out." He responded.

"Metastasis? What in the world is that?" Joker glanced at a patient chart that he'd causally picked up as he walked from room to room. He'd wandered into the intensive care ward of the hospital he was taking over. Glancing at the man wrapped in white sheets, the clown followed the many tubes and lines feeding from various machines into the man's veins.

"W-Well... this gentleman has liver cancer. A-and it spred from cancerous cells in his pancreas, Dr. Joker. Metastasis means that his pancreas gave his liver cancer." A shaky, nervous voice came from behind him. Joker spun on his heel, giggling.

He'd decided to spare some of the nurses and medical interns so they could follow him around and "update" him on his "patients". Of course he also had them "dumb" down their medical terminology since he couldn't understand half of the seventeen letter words that they said. Perhaps he was taking this doctor business too far, but these people seemed all too happy that they weren't gassed.

"Liver cancer? Can't that be cured?" Joker easily ignored the stupidity of his question since he was genuinely curious. The interns exchanged wary glances with each other.

"I'm afraid not. His form of cancer is terminal." A nurse explained. Joker frowned.

"What? He's in a hospital! Doctors can cure anything! Don't you have some sort of medicine that will kill the cancer?" The staff shook their heads but said nothing. The Harlequin of Hate tapped his foot, folding his arms across his stethescope. "Then what's the point of hospitals? They should be leveled."

They noticably jumped and were quick to defuse Joker's unpredictable temper.

"Mr. Mathis here is just a special case. He drank too many beers and his insides got sick." An intern gestured to the terminally ill man in the bed. "But if we keep moving, there are other patients here that are getting better fast!"

The hospital staff ushered Joker to the next room. The Crime Clown enjoyed the attention and there was an odd sense of accomplishment from pretending to be a doctor. It brought back a similar feeling he had as the Laughing Bat. At least his fun wouldn't be interrupted for a while. Joker was crazy but he was smart. He made sure that no one would be able to make an out-going call from this hospital. As well as gassing security and most of the staff. He sent out a warning that if anyone so much as made a move to leave or call for help before "the doctor's visit" was up, he'd give them a permenent smile like his. What did he have planned after the doctor's visit? Joker wasn't too sure himself. The more he toured with his entourage of captive interns, the more he found that gassing this place was unnecessary; half of the people in this place were dead anyway.

"See Ms. Kroger here got a bump on the head in a car accident." Shown yet another person hard-wired into a machine, Joker carefully looked at the woman. "Her bump was big but she'll be able to go home in about two months. She's on her way to being well."

Joker blinked seeing the woman looking back at him. Her eyes moved but her face didn't do so much as twitch.

"She's on medication that won't let her move. It helps her heal." A nurse chirped. The thought made the harlequin shiver.

"She can't even move? She can't sneeze? Cough? Laugh?" He rattled off. At the deafening silence from the doctors, Joker guessed that she couldn't even enjoy a chuckle. He'd have to fix that.

Retrieving his stethescope, Joker brought it to the woman's face.

"I bet if you could laugh, you'd be out of here in half the time." A crazed smile broke his face, elated that he would soon make this woman laugh. Pressing a button on his stethescope, a small hiss of air cut the silence.

A small cloud of Joker gas laved over the woman's face. The clown watched in hopeful eagerness to see the effects of his poison. He was rewarded with small giggles bubbling up from her emotionless lips. The interns and nurses gasped in unison as Ms. Kroger broke out into laughter. Smiling with twisted pride, Joker saw the woman kick as her laughter became hysterics. The nurses flooded over the lady and it was at that moment he caught the shrill prolonged beep from one of the machines the woman was hooked up to. Shrugging, seeing that she was still in giggles and not in any pain that he could see, Joker carried on to the next "patient" on his "list".

"Come now, we musn't linger. I have more patients to see to before I go into surgery!" He cheered over his shoulder. A handful of interns and nurses followed as the rest stayed to stabalize Ms. Kroger.

One of the interns holding the kicking woman's legs looked up at his friends and coworkers.

"The freak thinks he's going into surgery?! We've got to DO something!" He hissed as Ms. Kroger's thrashing softened some. The nearest nurse blinked back tears of fear in her eyes as she filled a syringe of low-blood pressure medication.

"My cell phone is in the locker room. Someone needs to get to it before Joker hurts anyone else." She hurried. "We need Joker antidote! Most of the patients on this level will not survive a Joker gassing!"

"I'll get the phone and call for help. Keep Joker distracted." They had to keep Joker from gassing anyone else. He fit in this hospital as well as a needle in a balloon factory.

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