The following story is about a Gotham City without its protector the Batman. This chapter deals with the Joker dealing with every day situations (by which I mean the situations of being a clown themed crime lord) while at the same time revealing his origin to the reader. Therefore this chapter will be told from the Joker's point of view. This chapter takes place two days after the prologue.
Gotham: War Chapter 1
Fatal Hilarity
They say laughter is the best medicine. It also makes quite a good poison. I realized this quite some time ago, but I still smile every time I think about it. And with all the laughs going around in the room around me, it's hard not too. I look to the right of me. There is a blonde man in a tuxedo laughing manically as I sometimes do. His face is getting purple, his eyes are widening, perhaps in fear, perhaps in shock. I do not know, nor do I care. I'm just here for the laughs. And of course, the money, there's always the money. I take a watch off the blonde man's wrist, it is gold. The people who work for me go around the room collecting jewelry, money, and watches, similar to the one I just took. My henchmen, as I sometimes refer to them, are not quite as enthusiastic about comedy as I am. They are more interested in the amount of profit they will gain. They also live in fear of me, so it all evens out.
As we are collecting our spoils, I hear a voice.
"Joker! Come out now with your hands up!"
The voice of Police Captain James Gordon. I smile again. This time it is because I will have a somewhat worthy opponent to deal with. Of course I anticipated on Jim's arrival, I just never bothered to plan past the point I'm at. I order one of my henchmen to take one of the women as a hostage. I tell him to go outside and tell the police to leave or else. I know it won't work, but it would buy some time. Not that I really need time to plan my escape, it's just I don't have anything planned for the evening, so I could use something to fill my time with.
I sit down, close my eyes, and start thinking… killing time.
Old Captain Gordon and I have been good friends for years, he being the best on the force, and I being the best in my respective business. We are a lot alike. Being forced to work with people who don't understand us. Being underappreciated. It's almost like we're two sides of a coin. Well not exactly. Gordon and I are different yet similar, but he still is not quite the rival I would prefer. He is neither as smart as I am, nor is he as open minded. I'm also much better looking. I feel he understands me more than anyone else, yet not enough. If there truly is an opposite equal to every person in the world, then James Gordon is not mine. Still he is pretty close.
He was there when I was born. Well not when I was physiologically expelled from the body of my mother, but when I was born again. Shed from the shell of Jack Napier, I was born.
Jack Napier was a struggling comedian, who had a wife, and a child coming along. He sometimes liked to dress up in a costume, and call himself the Red Hood. When he wasn't failing at telling jokes, he was failing at stealing money. One day however, he found out that his wife was killed. Two corrupt policemen had let her die so that they wouldn't lose their jobs. Long boring story behind that, don't feel like reflecting upon it. To make a long story short, my wife and unborn child both ended up dead. Jack didn't quite "snap" right then and there, but he was certainly a changed man after that. He gave up on comedy and decided to try and avenge his wife and child. He tried raising hell for the entire Gotham police team. He robbed stores and mugged pedestrians, eventually gaining attention for himself. He was a far better thief now that his motive was revenge.
After a while, he attracted the attention of several gang lords. They offered him jobs, they all wanted the service of the Red Hood. By then the old Jack Napier was dead, and all that was left was the Red Hood, a man compelled by a lust for vengeance and violence. Comedy meant nothing to him. People weren't going to be laughing anymore. One day however, he angered one of the crime lords, Carmine Falcone, a new guy who had recently taken over his gang after his father was gunned down. In order to make himself known, and to make an example of those who he deemed unworthy, he decided to put a hit out for the Red Hood, who had taken money from the gang. The Red Hood was found by several hitmen and cornered in an old factory that he was robbing. The Red Hood had killed several of them, when one of them, acting on pure impulse, triggered a bomb that blew up the entire building. No one survived. Except for one person. That person, knocked completely unconsious was found by the police. He was taken to the Police Station, and when he awoke was greeted by the Police Commisioner, and his subordinate Sergeant James Gordon. The survivor was confused, who was he, where was he. The police didn't help either. Throwing him into an interagation room, and bombarding him with more questions. He looked around. He saw the mirror. Well it wasn't exactly a mirror, but it was one of those one glass walls that could be seen through from one side, and was a mirror on the other. He saw himself. Damn he was goodlooking. He remembered who he was, and decided what he was going to be. I suppose that was the instant when he snapped and I was born. The survivor looked into the mirror, and saw the Joker. You see, his mind was quite unstable from the accident, but when he saw me, he realized that his life was the ultimate joke. A failed comedian who gave up all the jokes, had come to look like a clown. A spitting image of the Joker from a deck of cards. Pale skin and wild green hair. I'm still not sure how I came to end up looking like that, but I'm glad I did. So that's my story. Interesting is it not.
Now I come to the end of my reflection. I look up. The police are coming into the room, brandishing guns and nightsticks. I laugh, reach into my pocket and pull out a big red button that says push me. I warn all the cops to stop or I'll push it. They do stop, and one tells them that I'm bluffing. Another tells him how crazy I am. I tell him how I take offense to being called crazy, and I shoot him. With laugh gas of course. I believe the best way to do anything is to do it with a smile on, even if what you're doing is dying. I then press the button. At first nothing happens, the police circle around me, but then something explodes. I'm not quite sure what but out of nowhere comes a loud BOOM! Suddenly there are unicycles and bears and trapezes all around me. Oh yeah, that was the circus button. It's mostly a hallucination, but it's enough to get me out of there. I leave my henchmen behind in the confusion while they try to avoid getting killed by a falling highwire act. I laugh as I make my exit. The next three blocks I walk are all circus tents. Sometimes I feel like I work to hard.