The Joker and crew's van pulled into a little Italian restaurant in the narrows, clearly a Mafia front. They were told that DiMarco, the newest leader of the Falcone crime family, would be there that afternoon.
As the group entered the building a waitress gasped, almost dropping a tray of empty plates and glasses. The clown ignored her until he spotted Joe DiMarco. The man sat towards the back of the room eating a plate of spaghetti with two body guards behind him.
"I'm going to have a word with uh, Mr. DiMarco," he explained to the henchmen behind him.
Spades nodded from behind his clown mask, "Do ya need us boss,"
"III don't think so, you'll know if I do," he made his way towards the end of the restaurant, "Mind if I sit down," he said approaching the mob boss.
The man looked up at the Joker, "Actually I do clown boy," he said.
"It's uh, it's Joker," he sat down anyway, "And yoooou are Di-Mar-co. Right?"
"That's right. I thought the bat put you away,"
"Well yea, he did," the clown nodded, "But obv-ious-ly I escaped, since I'm sitting here,"
"What the hell do ya want anyways?" the man across the table said in a frustrated voice.
"You're right, I'll get right to the point," he licked his lips, "I heeard that you said some uh, not so nice things about me,"
DiMarco sat back in his chair looking at the clown with mild disgust, "Dat's it, you came down here to give me some sorta lecture? You think I'ma child? I mean what the fuck?"
Joker rolled his eyes, "No, no I-ah want to be sure these things are true," he made a popping sound with his lip, "Before I do anything... rash," his voice lowered to a serious tone, the clown gave him a side ways look.
"Are you threatening me? Funny boy,"
"No, it's mooore of a warn-ing," he pursed his lips, "See, I wanted to know what ya said so I would know just how to uh, re-act,"
Joe DiMarco cast him an angry look, "Ya wanna know what I said? I said that I was taking this city back, I'm gettin' pretty damn tired of freak shows like you and ya little gang of clowns controlin' everything. Dat's my job. I said given the chance I'd wipe dat smug smile of your face for good,"
"Freak," Joker repeated the word to himself. He giggled softly.
"What's so funny?" the mobster growled.
"It's pretty noble of ya Joey, taking back Gotham, sounds a bit like the late Har-vey Den-t don'tcha think?"
"I want it back to a time when people like me were in control and bastards like you were wrapped in a strait jacket," DiMarco coldly clarified his statement.
Joker let out a few more high pitched giggles.
The mob boss shook his head, "You are seriously fucked up pal. Why don't you go back to ya little fun house or wherever the hell you live, just get out of my sight,"
He tried to control his laughter, but it was hard not to enjoy DiMarco's obvious frustration, "I suppose you're right, I have alot of im-por-tant things ta do," he stood from his seat and turned to go, "Oh," he said stopping short and turning to face the other man, "What you said before about uh, wiping that smug smile off my faace," he giggled, "I'm afraid you'll be veeery disappointed. It's perminate. Remind me to tell ya that story some time,"
Joker exited the building, casually grabbing a soda off someone's table as he did.
"I don't get it," Chuckles said to Spades, who simply nodded a reply.
The henchmen didn't bother to respond verbally. He was concentrated on playing Resident Evil on the PlayStation the henchmen found in an apartment.
They crashed in Spade's apartment that evening waiting for more orders from the Joker. Since those orders often came at random times. Spades and Chuckles sat on the couch, Mime stayed on an old recliner drinking a beer. The untitled new guy was no where to be found tonight, but he usually kept to himself.
"Really, we rammed all over the damn narrows lookin' for that guy, we finally find him and the boss don't do nothing. I mean I thought we was gonna kill this dude. I wanna know why didn't he knife the mutha fucker? What's he waitin' fo," Chuckles stated almost pouting.
"The right moment-uh," a voice behind them answered.
"Shit," Chuckles whispered, he slowly turned to see the Joker leaning against the door way.
Spades quickly dropped the game controller, all three henchmen tensed at the boss's sudden appearance.
"Lemme explain something to ya Chuckles," Joker stepped in front of him, knife in hand examining the silver blade, "Some people, I just need to punish. Ooothers..." he waved the knife over his face, "Can be used aaas teach-ing tools. A little example of what can happen when you mess with me,"
Chuckles swallowed hard, "I understand boss,"
He continued to stare at the knife, "So there's no uh, doubt on your part, iiis there? Haven't lost any respect for your boss?"
"No sir,"
Joker put the knife away after what seemed like an eternity to Chuckles.
"That's good," he nodded, " I wouldn't want to lose ya, I'm running low on henchies as it is. Whiich reminds me, I've got a job for you gen-tle-men. As I said we're missing some muuch needed staff, sooo," he clapped his hands together, "I need you three to make a visit to Arkham tonight. I'd do it myself but I've got work to do. Ya wanna know what I'm doin'?" he said eagerly.
The henchmen silently nodded, not wanting to dissapoint their boss.
"IIt's a laughing gas," he paused, "Only it kills ya!" he exclaimed straiting his arms out, "Only problem is linking the uh, laughter and the death together," he gestured by interlocking his fingers, "Buuut I'll figure something out, so anyway Arkham. Everybody up for it?" he questioned emphasizing the "t" ending it, "Good," he stated after getting no response.
He strode out the door as if nothing had happened leaving his men to calm down. Giving them a little scare every once in a while was good for them. They needed to know if they stepped out of line he'd blow out there brains and then finger paint with there blood; it made for a much better work environment. Henchmen didn't get cocky when the understood they could easily be replaced.
Joker made his way back toward his office. He had to do some more thinking to night. He had big decisions to make on the subject of Joe DiMarco's death as well as his laughing gas project.
Just then the cell phone inside his pocket began to go off. He removed the phone to look at the number, it was Harley's.
"Hel-lo," he answered it.
"Hey puddin'" she greeted cheerfully, "Look I know ya said how I ain't sposta call you, I know ya probably real busy but I really need ta see ya,"
Joker sighed, slightly aggrivated by her whiney tone of voice coming through the phone.
"Yeeeah I am,"
"Oh I'm so sorry Mistah J, I just I hate bein' here all alone," she continued, "See I shot my boss last night and I'm kinda nervous about the cops cops comin' now," She was, Harley had locked herself in the bathroom for most of the day, "I'd feel sooo much betta if I had a big, strong man to protect me Mistah J,"
"I hafta wor- you shot your boss!" Joker exclaimed excitedly, "All by yourself?"
"Yeah,"
Joker couldn't help but feel partly responsible. In a good way that is. Harley Quinn was like his own little creation. He had molded her delicate mind like clay. Now she was becoming a killer as well. He felt a familiar pride like he had when he found Harvey "Two-Face" Dent was lose in Gotham taking lives right and left. Joker had inspired him and now Harley. He had her right where he wanted her now, it gave him an idea.
"Ya know. maybe you should come here," he suggested.
Harley gasped, "Really Mistah J, ya really mean it?"
He held the phone out as she let out several shrieks of excitement.
"Can I come right now? Where do ya live? What all should I bring, I mean is this a long term thing Mistah J? Is it? Is it!?"
"Hooow about I come there,"
"Okay Mistah J, I'll see ya soon! Oh I love you so much!" she squealed.
Joker ended the call and grabbed his trench coat, as well as a machine pistol laying on his desk. He doubted his driving would be very inconspicuous, he would most likely need it if pulled over.
"Damn this place is creepy at night," Spades looked up at the large building looming before them.
"Arkham's creepy during the day man," Chuckles gripped the van's wheel, "I hate comin' here,"
"You are just full of complaints aren'tchya," Spade said, "Be careful about that, if you slip up around Joker to much he will gut you like a fish,"
The other henchmen gave him a blank look, "Thanks man, that's real comfortin'," he said with sarcastic gratitude.
Spades shrugged, "I'm tryin' to help ya, you know the boss doesn't take to kindly to whiners,"
Chuckles nodded.
"Hey man over there," Mime directed their attention to a pair of guards car pulling to Arkham.
"Looks like our way in," Spades produced a knife out of his coat pocket, he looked towards Chuckles, "Wanna stay here so we can make a quick get-away?"
"Sure," he had no problem staying behind.
"Bitch," Mime laughed and punched his arm from the back seat.
Mime and Spades climbed out of the van and began approaching the two unsuspecting guards. The driver began to exit his car just in time to be stabbed with Mime's bowie knife. The man let out a sharp gasp before dropping to the pavement. Mime quickly removed his uniform before it became soiled with blood. Spades did the same on the passengers side of the vehicle. After throwing on the uniforms they casually walked in to Arkham as if to start there shift. If they acted as though they knew what they were doing, no one would question them.
Since it was getting late Arkham was quite empty. Only a few guards and nurses had the night shift. It was hard to find people willing to work at the asylum, particularly at night. Everything was still and quiet.
The henchmen turned down the hallway closest to the door. Mime silently appeared behind the guard patrolling the hall and stabbed his knife unforgivingly into the man's back. Spades began unlocking doors with the pass key, which had came with the uniforms. Most of the patients inside remained asleep. He cocked his handgun and made his way into a cell to tell the inmate of the Joker's offer. Freedom from Arkham in exchange they would work for the Clown Prince of Crime.
The sound of the unlocking cell doors woke Jonathan Crane, who was a light sleeper anyway. He rubbed his eyes and stumbled out of bed towards the small window on his door. Outside he saw two guards releasing Arkam's inmates. A group of orange clad men forming around the two.
"What are you doing?" he exclaimed to Mime who was nearest to his cell, "These are mentally unstable patients you cannot let them out," he remained confused by the situation.
Mime noticed him shouting from his cell and stepped towards the former doctor. At that moment Crane noticed a machine pistol in the guard's hands. Jonathan realized they were not guards at all.
"Who do you think you are?" Mime chuckled at the outspoken mental patient.
"I am Dr. Jonathan Crane, the better question is who do you think you are?" he retorted.
"Did he just say Crane?" Spades made his way towards the two, "You're the Scarecrow,"
"I prefer Dr. Crane," he sounded somewhat disgusted, "I haven't struggled with those parts of my personality for several months," he lied somewhat.
Spades thought back to the Joker's laughing gas idea, "So you made that uh, fear gas crap right?"
"If by fear gas crap you mean my weaponized hallucinogen then yes, I created that compound,"
The henchmen nodded, "We're recruiting some new employees for our boss, the Joker. Do ya wanna come with us?"
Jonathan rolled his eyes at Spade's offer, "And become a common lackey like the two of you?" he scoffed, "I'd rather rot in this cell,"
Though in the back of his mind he was tempted by the chance at freedom. It had been hell being trapped in the asylum he once worked in. Part of him wanted desperately to go with the henchmen, the Scarecrow part.
"Ya know for a little man you gotta big mouth," Mime responded threateningly, "How would ya like them brains a your's splattered on the wall, how smart wouldya be then?"
Spades remained calm and shook his head no towards his co-worker, "Joker is working on somethin you'd be interested in,"
Scarecrow made himself known to Jonathan at that moment. Commanding him to go along, "I doubt that," he finally said, "The Joker is a mad dog. He has no logic or reasoning to the things he does. Only an imbecile could work under that kind of authority and I refuse to be reduced to your level,"
"Fine," sighed Spades, "Mime do what ya want with him,"
Mime unlocked the cell door and pulled out his knife.
"Wait," Jonathan took a step back raising his hands, "Perhaps I can reconsider, what's Joker's idea?"
"I dunno," Spades said casually, "Something about laughing gas, don't have alotta details. Ya know I'm not that smart,"
Jonathan laughed nervously, "I struggle with a split personilty, surely you didn't believe I was being serious. No, never," he tried to sound confident.
"So your coming with?" asked Spades.
The inmate bit his lip and nodded yes.
Gah I'm to tired for author's notes...