CHAPTER 9 – "LAFF NIGHT"
Dr. Alan Greenberg was one of Gotham's most respected surgeons. He'd received offers to work at world-renowned clinics in New York and California, but had chosen to stay in Gotham City, the town where he grew up. Dr. Greenberg was a man of principle, who had become a doctor to help people, rather than for money, and so he felt he was best off staying in Gotham City, the place that needed his help the most. He was a resident surgeon in Gotham City Memorial Hospital, working long hours just about every day. And after a long shift, Dr. Greenberg was exhausted, and wanted nothing more than to get home. But he wouldn't he getting home tonight.
A devout believer in protecting the environment, Dr. Greenberg did his little bit by walking home instead of driving the car. For years, he had been able to walk the same route home without any problems, a bona-fide miracle considering the city he'd worked in all this time. But tonight, a few streets from the hospital, he had just stepped onto the road when, out of nowhere, an ambulance came charging down the street, hitting into him at around 40 MPH. Greenberg crashed into the windscreen, before flying over the roof of the ambulance and landing awkwardly on his head onto the road below.
All went black for a few moments. But then, Greenberg's eyes flicked open, and it was like the whole world had been turned on its head. He'd been walking, then all of a sudden he was here with his face pressed against blood-stained tarmac. He was alive, but barely. And his legs! God, he couldn't feel his legs! Just then, he saw the ambulance come screeching to a halt. He was just about to let out a sigh of relief, when the ambulance door opened, and all hope died instantly within him.
The Joker hopped out of the driver's seat of the ambulance. A doctor's white lab coat over his purple suit. In his hand was a small black medical bag. He walked up to the helpless Dr. Greenberg, and knelt down beside him.
"Oh, you're alive," he chuckled, "That's a bonus."
Dr. Greenberg wanted to run away, to scream for help. But his legs weren't listening to his brain's commands, and his throat had ceased up in sheer terror. It was like he was frozen! This…thing had killed so many people, and now he was going to be added to that list, not with a defiant struggle, but with spineless silence, and desperate, pleading eyes. The Joker carefully opened up the medical bag, taking out a syringe. He rolled up Dr. Greenberg's sleeve.
"You can trust me, Alan," whispered The Joker, "I'm a doctor."
He injected Joker Venom into Alan Greenberg's arm, then giggled with sadistic glee as he watched the doctor's face contort into a maniacal grin. The Joker Venom was even deadlier in liquid form than it was as a gas. The formula was concentrated, and killed almost instantly. Eyes practically bulging out of their sockets in a gleeful display of warped pride at his devilish handiwork, The Joker hooked his thumbs into the sides of Dr. Greenberg's mouth, pulling the already-wide grin back even wider.
"Doc, you're dead...and loving it! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!"
The Joker took off the coat and left it with the medical bag beside Greenberg's corpse. He was leaving the ambulance behind as well, of course. It wouldn't be any fun if no one could understand the sweet, sweet irony of a doctor being run down by an ambulance. So, The Joker would have to walk home. Oh well, he would be doing his bit for the environment. HA HA!
About half an hour later, he entered his recently purchased hideout, and poured himself a celebratory drink. The Boon Dock Bar & Grill had once been a popular haunt in The Cauldron, one of the sleazier areas of Gotham City. But now, the place was in disrepair. It had been closed several years ago, but rather than being reopened under new management, or even demolished, the place had been left to rot, like a carcass on the road-side. Just recently, someone had finally bought up the lease for the property. That someone was The Joker.
With the windows boarded up, and only one naked overhead bulb providing light, The Joker was in near complete darkness. He was sat at one of the tables, now covered with a layer of sawdust and cobwebs, cradling a scotch in his hand. This was one of those rare occasions when he was in a quiet, pensive mood. It would probably pass before long: The Joker went through moods like other people went through tooth-picks. But for now, he stared solemnly at the small stage at the far end of the room. Every Wednesday night, The Boon Dock had held "Laff Night", where regulars could get up and try their hand at a little stand-up comedy. The Joker smiled fondly at the memories of a past life long gone…
But despite that bittersweet feeling of nostalgia, The Joker couldn't shake a niggling feeling of disappointment. Batman hadn't picked up on his handiwork as fast as he'd hoped. He'd already told the first two gags in his routine: the one about the depressed guys who laughed themselves to death, and the one about the doctor who got hit by an ambulance. And then there was the one about the crime-fighter exposed as a criminal. Good old Harvey Dent was helping him with that one. But what reaction was he getting? Nothing.
"Tough crowd," The Joker muttered under his breath.
But not to worry. Brucie was probably just engaged elsewhere. The Joker just needed to do something big to attract his attention, and as it so happened, that's exactly what he had lined up next. Oh, wait until Batman saw this baby – it was going to be a hoot!
The Joker stood up, cracking his knuckles. He swaggered across the room, and limberly hopped up onto the stage. He grabbed onto an imaginary microphone.
"Good evening, Gotham! I am The Joker, as I'm sure you all know. I'm here to tell you a little story. This one had me in stitches! Okay, there's this guy, goes by the name of Bruce Wayne. He's rich, he's famous, he has everything a man could want. But here's the funny part. He feels the need…to be someone else. He isn't happy as Bruce Wayne, no, he has to be both Bruce Wayne… and Batman! HAHAHAHAHA! Isn't that just hilarious?"
The Joker paced back and forth across the stage.
"But who really deserves to have two lives? Certainly not him! So, that's where I come in. I'm going to take both his lives, one at a time. First one, and then the other. And then, Gotham City, you'll belong to me! This city is like a dirty whore, just waiting to be royally screwed!"
The Joker threw his head back, bursting into maniacal laughter.
"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA…"
And he didn't stop, falling down onto his knees as the laughter built and built. He could hear laughter everywhere, all around him. He was laughing, but in his head, everyone else was joining in. At last, they thought he was funny! When they all saw the world the way he saw it - as nothing more than a cruel, sadistic joke - how could they not laugh?
"When you're smiling, when you're smiling," sang The Joker, "The whole world smiles with you! Hee Hee Hee Hee HA HA HA HA HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!"