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"You want to know how I got these scars?"
The guard shivered as a razorblade numbed his cheek. He wanted to yell – but that would, really, entail cutting open his own face on the clown's razor. So he let the other man speak.
"My brother was…not quite right in the head. Still, we used to spend a lot of time together – that is, until the school bully picked up on his, ah…unusual behaviour. Picking on a kid who was already screwed up was against the rules, so I took the fall.
Now, one day my brother finds a few of the boys laying into me in a back alley, and he goes just cra-zy over it. He pulls out a knife and, screaming, takes them out. One. By. One.
Now he comes at me, smiling. Grinning.
I just wanted them to get him, not me. I just wanted him to die. But of course, he didn't know that.
"Why so serious?" he asks. "I just saved ya. Why don't you show a little…gratitude? Just a smile will do."
All this time he's coming closer and closer, until his knife is in my face…in my mouth.
"Just a smile will do." he says, violently this time. He presses the knife against my mouth just a little harder and…"
The guard screamed and fell unconscious, face suddenly a mess of blood. The Joker giggled a little, and skipped over the body, straight out of Arkham Asylum.