Chaos was a beautiful thing. It was primal, true, and absolutely the life of the party. In comparison was Order—rigid, boring, uptight Order, the ultimate buzzkill. You could only have one, but not the other, not at the same time anyways.

Yet, there was a strength in Chaos that Order did not have. Order was fragile, vulnerable to something as small as a crack; Chaos, on the other hand, was solid and untameable. Society always tried to reign it in, lock it up, and throw away the key so that Order stood a chance at running the show.

So after creating the ultimate display of Chaos imaginable, it was only natural that people would take advantage of it.

That part was okay, he didn't mind it at all. In fact, he encouraged opportunists to take what they could get while the getting was good. There was very little they could do to interfere with the game already in progress. They were the halftime show that ultimately disappointed everyone and made them complain around the water cooler the next day at work.

Unfortunately, one of these little distractions was starting to divert attention away from where it should have been. Someone was trying to steal his spotlight and that just wouldn't do. Nope, nope, nope, this was his rodeo and the clowns knew better than to get in the way of the matador.

Wait a second, there weren't matadors in rodeos…

See? This was just upsetting him! He couldn't keep his metaphors straight! This...this was just unacceptable.

Clutching binoculars, he watched as four people moved through the night air, two creating a perimeter while the other two entered a rather expensive-looking house. The owner had to have illegal immigrants manicuring his lawn and bushes because the place looked way too polished for someone to afford union guys to come out more than once a month. Why, people must have been out here at least once a week!

Regardless, this new distraction had to be dealt with. He wasn't the star of this story, no way, no how.

Lowering his binoculars, the Joker scowled from atop the building he stood on. It seemed these people needed another lesson in manners. Considering there wasn't a Super Nanny around, he would just have to be the one to teach it.

Good thing he had been given his teaching certificate recently. That seminar guy had been dying to give it to him and it would be such a shame to let it go to waste. The world had no idea how lucky it was to have such a selfless man like him willing to make the hard choices.


Cheval was living in a ritzy neighborhood at the edge of Midway. It was built along a hill that overlooked the city, Cheval's home naturally at the top of the ridge. The roof was flat, extending out from the building, forming an overhang. Manicured bushes and grass stretched out to the steel fence that surrounded the property.

Kneeling on the edge of the roof was Batman, his palm pilot in hand. Overlooking a pool and patio, the vigilante worked at hacking the house's security system. It was a good one, but he was confident he could shut the system down. He only needed a few—

A light flashed off of the palm pilot's screen indicating he accomplished what he had been after. "We're in," he grunted as he shoved the device back into its pouch on his belt. A footstep followed by a hand resting on his shoulder alerted him to his partner.

"So we enter?" Diana asked him, looking down at him. He gave her a sharp nod before he pulled away from her, dropping off the roof and landing on the patio. A moment later the Amazon landed next to him.

Silently the Dark Knight moved to the sliding glass door, tugging on it lightly and found it unlocked. Cheval was careless in his arrogance. The dark-clad man had been expecting all the doors and windows to be locked, prompting him to pick the lock. Not looking a gift horse in the mouth, he slowly slid the door open until he could easily enter the house.

The lights were on, revealing a carpeted living room. Off to the right the floor dropped down a couple feet, forming a pit. A large screen television sat on one end of the pit, a cushioned bench lining the edge of the hole save for a spot where steps gave easy access to its floor. This home definitely had the feel of 70's architecture and design.

Unfortunately, there was no sign of Cheval in the room. He was somewhere here though. He may have lived like the wealthy, but if he was knocking off a bank, he was very conscious of money. No way would he leave the lights on if he wasn't here, not in his current financial situation.

"I hear someone," Diana whispered. Turning his head, Batman looked at the dark-haired woman, seeing her head tilted to a side. Her eyes were focused, but not on anything specific so much as she was concentrating on her hearing. She then nodded towards a hallway in the corner of the large living room. "It's coming from there."

Batman made his way towards the hallway, entering it with his comrade right behind him. The hall had a couple of doorways on each side, the doors closed shut. At the end was a set of stairs, the carpet covering each step. Pausing for a moment, the vigilante turned his head slightly so he could look over his shoulder. Diana again nodded, indicating to head up the stairs.

Continuing to move, the two of them crept up the stairs, arriving on a second floor soon after. Again they found themselves in a large room, yet this time it was an office. It was spacious with very little furniture. A desk with a couple of chairs in front of it was the featured set piece, a few plants and a couple cabinets lining the walls with various pictures and paintings.

And standing in front of the desk was Cheval, his back towards the staircase as he propped himself up on the desk with his arms. He seemed oblivious to their presence as Batman and Diana came to stand on the floor, staring him down.

"I know you're there," the man suddenly spoke. His tone was droll, unimpressed by the presence of the two Leaguers. "You disabled my security system, correct? Don't be surprised that I know this; the security company sent me a text a couple minutes ago informing me of this."

Cheval spun around then, leaning back on the desk as his hands rested on its surface. Batman was quick to note a monocle was placed over his left eye. There was no telling what it could do, not if Flash's report of its abilities was accurate.

Still, the Dark Knight was annoyed by Cheval's claim. To be outed by a home security company doing its damn job, no fault of its own. That this man was able to deduce the Justice League was behind the break-in indicated he was a man of logic. Though his demeanor was irritating and haughty, he had good reason to act that way.

Not at all disturbed by the lack of a verbal response by the League, the older man then spoke, "Now you, the Batman, if you would be so kind as to keep your hands out in the open, we can speak to each other like civilized people." Narrowing his eyes, Batman humored the man, rolling his shoulders so that his cape hung from his back rather than envelop him; this put his hands right where Cheval could see them.

Cheval smiled. "Very courteous of you. Now, Wonder Woman is it? Do not reach for your golden rope there. You will not be needing it."

Diana's stony look indicated she was not at all impressed by the man's cavalier behavior. "Only if you refrain from using that eyeglass of yours."

"Ah, now that is where we have a difference of desire." Cheval shifted his weight as he made himself more comfortable against the desk. "You see, this monocle is my only weapon of self-defense. If I were to remove it, I would be at your mercy, which gives you no incentive to carry out our conversation. Perhaps if you were to remove your powers, we could then discuss my purposeful disarmament, but seeing as how it is unlikely for you to give up your strength, I must refuse to leave myself helpless."

"Then you need to listen to my words rather than presume what I'm saying," Diana countered. "All I said was not use it, not take it off."

That caused Cheval to pause. It seemed he had assumed what he would be told and planned out his answers ahead of time. He was a man that thought he was smart rather than simply was.

"So you did," he said, unsure as to how to react. He then visibly shook his head, trying to regain the upper hand once more. "Would it be safe to presume you are here to arrest me?"

"Considering you did rob a bank, yes we do," the Amazon answered.

"And you have proof of my involvement, yes?"

Diana glanced over to Batman, unsure whether she should reveal what they found on him. The Dark Knight felt it was up to him to take over the conversation at this point. "You were caught in the act of the robbery by the security cameras. Your face is easily identifiable."

"Ah, but cannot footage be altered? I can hire any film expert that will successfully argue that point."

Batman stared at the man. That answer had completely wiped out any sort of grudging admission that Cheval may have some intelligence about him. He was firmly living in his own world and any credit he was due was by happenstance aligning with his point of view. There was no point in arguing about doctoring security footage, nor pointing other pieces of evidence that firmly put Cheval at the scene and committing the crime. The older man would make up some excuse to how he could destroy the credibility of the evidence.

Simply put, there was only so much talking you could do with this man before you were forced to give up.

Diana, on the other hand, refused to give up on such a pointless battle. "No expert in the world is going to find any doctored footage that we can provide. It clearly places you at the bank and robbing it. There is no need to alter it."

"Consider where the footage is now, though," Cheval was quick to note. "It's currently in the hands of an infamous vigilante, is it not? Vigilantes by rule of law are lawbreakers, which makes any evidence they may have in their possession inadmissible. The Lock Ness Monster has a better chance of admitting evidence than he does."

While that was a fair point, Batman could see that Diana was about to defend his honor, so to speak. As far as he was concerned, there was no reason to—he had found ways around that sticking point before, he could do it again easily—so he held up a hand and gestured for the dark-haired woman to stop. Seeing the gesture, she refrained from speaking, giving him a curious look in turn.

"We can argue this in circles all night," the Dark Knight said then, earning him the full attention of the room. "Regardless of how you look at it, you are a person of interest at this moment, which means you are being brought in for questioning. Because you're entitled to your day in court, we're going to make sure you get it. I'm fine with letting the courts determine your guilt—the question is: are you?"

That made Cheval hesitate, no doubt considering the backlash he would face being accused of robbing a bank in a city that had just been demolished. The PR only would cripple him forever, making any future he had in investing a pipe dream.

"A-again, I point you to your status as vigilante," he stammered out, his confidence draining out of him. "No court will—"

"Outside of Gotham, perhaps," the dark-clad man acknowledged, interrupting the older man. "But if you would look to my left, you'll see Wonder Woman, a respected and valued member of the Justice League, a publicly-accepted and sanctioned organization that has apprehended plenty of criminals. While the rest of the world may frown at my involvement, they're not going to turn away a suspect brought to them by the Justice League."

That was the final nail in the coffin for Cheval. His eyes darted back and forth between Batman and Diana, looking as if he was unsure how to deal with the situation before him. It was obvious he was used to having the upper hand in all aspects of his life, even when things were going sideways for him.

All of this ultimately caused him to snap. "I won't let you take me!" he screamed as the glass of his monocle glowed yellow before firing a large energy beam at the two Leaguers.

Immediately they dodged in opposite directions of each other, allowing the blast to fly by them harmlessly until it burned through a window and flew out into the night's sky. All the while, Batman reached for his belt as he kept low, noticing out of the corner of his eye Diana taking off running at Cheval with her incredible speed. Due to them being separated, Cheval wasn't sure what to do: aim at the charging Amazon or try to finish off the dark-clad vigilante.

Batman was fully intent on making sure he never made a choice. Pulling out one of his bat-shaped shuriken, he whipped his arm out, sending the projectile flying. It arched through the air as it flew, colliding with the side of Cheval's face, causing the man to cry out as his head jerked to a side, his monocle sent flying off of his face and through the air.

An instant later Diana was on him, delivering a solid uppercut that picked him right off the floor and sent him soaring over his desk and into the back wall. There was a loud BANG! from the collision, the man dropping onto the floor as he landed on his hindquarters.

That should have ended things. No way did a pompous ass like Cheval not go into unconsciousness from a blow from Wonder Woman. Yet, as Batman was reminded many times throughout this life, there was no such thing as a sure thing; this was just one such example.

Instead of lying with a bruise on his face, Cheval somehow stayed conscious. Dazed, he looked around the room, clearly not in a right frame of mind. Yet, instead of staying helpless, he blubbered out, "Security activate."

Suddenly, a panel from the wall to Batman's right extended out, revealing the barrel of a gun turret. The same thing happened on the opposite side of the room. Even worse, both turrets were pointed right at the vigilante.

Oh, shit.

There was no time to breath, much less think or even move. One instant he saw the turrets pointed right at him, a split-second later they were firing bullets, unleashing the sound of Hell into the room.

Though Batman had no time to react, Diana did.

In less than a blink of the eye, the Amazon was standing with her back to him, her arms a blur in front of her as she blocked the bullets, ricocheting them off her bracers. This bought the vigilante the second he needed to duck behind her, effectively using her as a human shield, not that she minded. She was doing an admirable job at deflecting the bullets, but even he knew that at some point one would get through—and that was all it would take—and that would be the end of both of them. They needed to take out those turrets.

Reaching to his belt, Batman pulled out a bola with each hand. Grabbing one of the metal balls hanging from the cords, he pressed his thumb onto ball until he saw a red light flash. Ready, he began rotating his wrists until they bolas were spinning in circles in his hands.

Spinning to his left, he sent the bola in his right hand flying, not bothering to watch it spin its way until it reached the turret. The cords would wrap around the gun the moment they made contact, stopping only when the metal balls collided—

An explosion rang out and Batman knew that turret was finished. Twisting to his right, he sent his other bola racing towards the other turret, this time watching it wrap around the weapon until the explosive detonated and destroy it in a blast of fire and smoke.

The Dark Knight found himself scowling. He should have done a more thorough check of Cheval's home defenses before coming in. Between the time in the cave and his hacking of the security system on the roof, he had plenty of time to research and discover this deadly trap. Had Diana not been here, he would have been a spatter of blood and flesh at this point. Slowly moving out from behind her, he was even more furious to notice the lack of Cheval's presence in the room.

"It seems he's escaped," Diana remarked coolly, her arms hanging at her sides. She then looked to him, the corner of her mouth twitching up in a small smile. "It's a good thing you insisted on bringing backup."


The Jaguar roared to life with the twist of a key. The garage door was opening too damn slowly for Cheval's tastes and the only thing that kept him from forcing his way through the slowly-growing opening was that the car was a collector's item, a veritable work of art, not to mention worth more than most men's lives. Scratching the exterior was blasphemous regardless of whether it was on purpose or not.

The moment the garage door was high enough so as not to nick the roof, Cheval shoved the shifting gear into drive, slamming one foot on the clutch and the other onto the accelerator. This car was going to be put through its paces tonight.

Shooting out of the garage, Cheval tore through the driveway, glad that he at least had the foresight to activate the gate opener before he climbed into the car. Without hitting the break he skidded onto the road, shifting gears to speed up. There was no telling if those Justice League fools were still alive after his activation of his home security system, but he did not want to stick around to find out. The further away he got, the better it was for him.

Now that he had a moment to think, things could not have gone any worse. Those heroes had thought up angles on him that he hadn't considered. How could he have overlooked Wonder Woman? How? And that Flash fellow now that he thought about it. Both were considered respectable in most social circles and thus they could point to him for his involvement in Metropolis.

He should have killed the Flash when he had the chance.

There was still time to correct this though. All he had to do now was rid himself of witnesses, anyone that could positively identify him. Everything else would go his way once those loose ends were taken care of.

A sharp rapping sound to his left shook the man out of his thoughts.

Jerking his head to a side, Cheval couldn't help but widened his eyes at the sight of the very man he had been thinking of. The Flash was running along side his car, a proud smirk on his face as his arms pumped at his sides. The red-clad man then raised one of his hands up and began rotating it in a circle, gesturing for him to roll down the window.

Dumbly, Cheval hit the button to do just that, the window making a buzzing sound as it slid down. Once it was down, he heard the Flash call out, "Pull over, you're under arrest!"

The older man turned his head to look out the windshield, glanced back at Flash, then returned his attention back to the road ahead of him. It was almost too surreal to be honest. He...he had the chance to start cleaning up this mess!

Cheval's first impulse was to use his monocle to blast the man, but he realized one fatal flaw with that plan: his monocle was missing. He couldn't feel the rim pressed against the rim of his eye socket. How could that be?! He always wore one! He—

A tightness on the side of his temple made itself known then, which incidentally caused him to recall why he wasn't wearing his beloved monocle. That Batman fellow had knocked it off of him when he had flung that...that...batarang thing at him. It was lying on his office floor, much to his dismay. He was weaponless, naked even.

That still left him with his current problem. He needed to think, come up with some idea to kill this man before it was too late. Cheval's hands tightened on the steering wheel. As much as he didn't want to do this, there wasn't much choice anymore.

Jerking the wheel, he swerved his Jag at the Flash, causing the man to dart sideways to avoid being hit. "Whoa!" he exclaimed as he avoided contact with the car.

Pulling back into his lane, Cheval glanced repeatedly at the running man before he tried to slam the side of his car into him again. And again, Flash dodged, not even once losing speed. "Okay, buddy, you really need to observe the rules of the road!" he shouted at him.

Looking up ahead, Cheval noticed the road curved to the right, a guardrail lining the left side. A wicked smirk appeared on his face as an idea came to him.

Returning once more to the proper lane, the older man bided his time, allowing Flash to pull back up next to the car. Every passing second brought them closer and closer to the guardrail and ultimately the foolish boy's demise. He could practically picture the blood staining the railing's metal surface.

Then, at the last moment, he swerved at the hero, fully intent on crushing the man against the guardrail. However, instead of the Flash moving to—and thus trapping himself against—the guardrail, he killed his speed, vanishing from sight as he fell behind.

That left Cheval to hit the railing with the side of his Jag. The sound of screeching metal filled the air as the man screamed, trying to pull away from the guardrail, but his arms weren't cooperating. His poor car dragging along side of the railing, sending sparks everywhere the entire time, until it reached the end of the rail and only then was Cheval able to pull back into his lane.

"No! No, no!" he cried. He didn't need visual confirmation to know he had just scratched up the entire side of his car, no doubt sizeable dents were somewhere in his car door. He...he just wanted to pull over and sob at the catastrophic damage.

Unfortunately, he wasn't able to. Movement through his windshield caused Cheval to stare out in front of him. High up in the air was that woman with the wings, Hawkgirl. She was flapping those feathered wings, moving further ahead of his car and thus further down the road. Dumbly he just watched her.

She then dropped through the air, stopping her descent a few feet above the road. Incidentally she was facing his approaching car, holding a crude, blunt instrument in her hands.

It was only at the last second that Cheval was able to realize what it was this Hawkgirl was holding. In her hands was a thick stick, something that looked like it belonged in his fireplace. On one end of the pole was an even bigger rock, easily the size of a bowling ball, and it was tied securely onto the stick with rope.

And with a swing, the winged woman slammed the makeshift mace down onto the hood of his beloved Jaguar.

The results were instant. The hood caved in with a loud BANG! In fact, the front bumper of the car was forced down onto the pavement, causing the back wheels to leap off the ground, killing any and all forward movement. Cheval lunged forward into his seat, his face ramming hard onto his steering wheel, the air in his lungs being knocked right out of him and leaving him breathless.


The back of the really fancy car dropped back onto the ground, bouncing a couple times before it finally settled down. A second later Flash was standing next to the car, peeking in to find the Monocle leaning forward on his steering wheel, looking as if he had just gone five rounds with Mike Tyson.

"So, willing to give up now?" the speedster asked, not expecting a reply. When the Monocle didn't respond, the red-clad hero said, "That's what I thought."

That was when Hawkgirl landed next to him, tucking her wings in and glancing at the beaten man emotionlessly. "It's about time too," she spoke with annoyance in her voice. "I'm done chasing this guy down."

Nodding, Flash then raised a hand to his ear, hitting his comm link. "Hey, Bats, Wondy, we got Monocle. Where are you two?"

There was a short pause before he received an answer. "We're in route," Batman said. "The police are on their way in no small part because of Cheval's private security system. They should be there in a few minutes. Make sure he's turned over to the authorities and head back to the cave."

"I take it that's where you're heading?" Flash inquired.

"Affirmative. Batman out."

Looking over to Hawkgirl, the speedster asked, "I take it you heard the Bat, right?" Upon seeing her nodding her affirmation, he then suggested, "How about you take off? I got everything handled here."

"Not a good idea," she replied. "Remember, we need to stay in pairs. We don't want a repeat of what happened to Superman."

"Oh, right." Flash looked to the car, frowning at it. "This was a really nice car."

"Uh huh," the Thanagarian responded, not the least bit interested.

"It's a shame it got wrecked. It's practically priceless."

That was when a low sob came out of the car. Looking through the open window, Flash could see the Monocle starting to cry, tears falling from his eyes. It seemed he agreed with the speedster's assessment.


His life was over. Effectively, Cheval had a pending criminal record about to be pinned on him. That practically made him radioactive to any reasonable investor in the world. Even if he beat the charges, no one would be willing to touch one of his subsidiaries, much less do business with him.

It hadn't been all that long since he had been tossed into the back of a police cruiser, courtesy of the Flash and Hawkgirl. The two heroes had taken off shortly after handcuffs had been forced around his wrists. Slumping in his seat, Cheval wondered if this was how rock bottom felt.

"Dispatch, this is Unit #73," the police officer in the driver's seat spoke into his radio. "Bringing in the Metropolis First National Bank suspect, Cheval, Jonathan. We're twenty minutes out, over."

"Roger that, Unit #73. We'll be ready for you at the precinct, over."

Cheval hung his head then. This was easily the worst night of his life; it was even lower than that one time he had discovered he had been suckered into not one, but two Ponzi schemes at the same time. And unlike then, he didn't have immediately contact with his lawyers in order to start litigation. There was no telling when he would get a chance to talk with them. Midway PD didn't exactly have a sterling reputation for being kind to their prisoners.

Each minute drug on by, another one that added to the growing, sickening feel in his stomach. Leaning back into the car seat, he rested the back of his head on the poor excuse for a headrest. Uncomfortable, he rolled his head to his left, staring out at the scenery blurred by.

Scenery that suddenly came to an end and revealed the bright headlights of an oncoming truck.

There was no time to cry out to warn the police officer. The truck slammed into the driver's side door of the cruiser, causing the side of the car to cave in. Glass from the windows shattered and sent pieces flying all over the place. Violently, Cheval felt himself thrown towards the opposite side of the car, crashing hard against the door, his head banging hard enough on the window to cause it to crack.

A sense of spinning filled Cheval's body, telling him the police car was in fact spinning around in a circle, slowing down until it came to a stop. Lying against the right passenger door, Cheval groaned. What were the chances of being involved with two different accidents at the same time?

Coughing, Cheval tried to call out to the police officer, managing to croak out, "Officer? I'm hurt."

When he didn't get an answer, Cheval shifted his eyes to look at the policeman. The man was slumped over the steering wheel, trickles of blood flowing down his shoulder, back, and arm. Oh, that didn't seem good.

"Sir?" he tried again, once more receiving no response. Was...was it possible this man was dead? If so, he had been given a genuine miracle. He could escape!

Suddenly, the door he was leaning on swung open, causing Cheval to weakly cry out as he fell out of the car. He landed on his shoulder, his legs following him and piling on top of his body uncomfortably. Something had to give and he ended up rolling from one shoulder to the other until his lower body finally collapsed onto the ground.

"Ah, ohhhh," he groaned, squeezing his eyes as he fought down the general soreness that filled his body. Opening his eyes, he was surprised to find a man standing nearby, a dark trench coat covering his frame, a wide-brim hat nestled on his head. Due to the tilt of the man's head, the hat's brim hid his face from sight.

"Ah, sir, please, I need some assistance," he begged. "I was wrongly accused, I assure you. If you could, I need you to take me to an associate of mine. You can trust you will be well rewarded for your help."

The stranger didn't answer, something that bothered Cheval. "Did you hear me? I said I will pay you," he tried again.

There was another silence, one that didn't sit well with Cheval. In fact, he was starting to get nervous. However, it was the strange man who ended up breaking this silence.

"You know, I hate people like you."

The older man jolted where he lay. "I beg your pardon," he demanded heatedly.

"Do you know what you are? You're a scene stealer." The man suddenly took a step towards Cheval, who responded by worming his way back, finding himself bumping against the side of the ruined squad car.

"And you know what a scene stealer is, right?" the man continued, unperturbed by Cheval's growing unease. "It's a side character that yearns for the spotlight and actively takes it from the more important characters. They serve as a distraction from the story, forcing it to go in a direction it really doesn't need to go. And audiences love them. They want more of these insignificant characters until the studios give in and do the unthinkable.

"They make a spinoff."

"I have no earthly idea what you're talking about," Cheval protested, getting his right arm in on the action as he tried to drag his body down the length of the car. "Please, just leave me be."

"Oh, we can't have that now, can we?" The man then reached into his trench coat, only to pull out a handgun that looked to be the mother of all handguns. It's insane size made Cheval freeze where he lay.

"No, please, I beg of you, don't hurt me," he pleaded.

The man pointed the gun right at him, Cheval staring down the barrel as he was sure it was aimed right at his head. However, he now had an angle on the deranged stranger and he saw his face.

Extremely pale skin was wrinkled as red lips drooped down in a frown. Sunken eyes bored into the older man own and Cheval felt his stomach drop. "You...I know you…" he gasped.

Suddenly, the gun dropped down and fired. Pain exploded through Cheval's knee, causing him to scream wildly. A second later, his other knee was blown apart as the madman fired a second shot.

The Joker raised his gun up and blew on the end of barrel, blowing away a rising cloud of smoke. "Now that I know you can't escape, it's time I told you just what you're screwing up." Calmly, he placed his gun back into its holster beneath his coat. "You see, I have a grand show and you're doing your best to be a showstopper. Now, I can't have that, not after all the trouble I've gone through to make it possible.

"I know you were hitting up that bank in Metropolis and that's something I really don't mind. In fact, I applaud your opportunism. There needs to be more people like that in this world, in my oh-so humble opinion."

That was when the Joker pulled something else out of his coat, light glancing off of a shiny, metal surface. Cheval gulped as he stared right at the wicked-looking knife, the madman slowly kneeling down next to him. "My issue, however, is that you're taking attention away from me. There can only be one showstopper here and that showstopper is me."

"Oh, I agree, completely and earnestly," Cheval quickly agreed. "I apologize for any incon—"

The Joker's hand shot out and tightly grabbed his chin and lower jaw, stopping the older man from talking. "That's enough out of you," the pale man growled, causing Cheval to whimper. "Now where was I? Oh, right, showstopping. Unfortunately, as a performer myself, I know there are plenty of other, hungrier guys out there willing to make a quick buck. They'll take advantage of all the mayhem I'm creating and eventually they'll end up just like you are now—drawing attention away from me. I simply cannot let that happen.

"So an example must be made and, fortunately for me, you will be the example."

Cheval began shaking his head frantically, impeded by the Joker's strong grip on his jaw. "Naaaww, Ppplease nawww," he tried to say.

The Joker held his knife up, its tip pointing right at Cheval. "Now hold still, I can only do this once. The whole world is going to see this and I want to make it perfect.

"After all, I'm a perfectionist."