CHAPTER VI

The Joker didn't like jail. The food was bad, the clothes were horrendous, and, as it were, every big guy in the joint really did have a perpetual scowl on his face. The yard didn't do anything for him, either. It consisted of a field of drab, dead grass, lackadaisically strewn weights and other various pieces of work-out equipment, and that one guy who had an entourage that probably had about six inmates who didn't actually want to be around him. There did turn out to be one upside, however.

Fights were common, and all the Joker really ever had to do was sit on the bleachers and relax. He loved seeing these underdeveloped monkeys mercilessly pummel each other in a silly attempt at power and respect. To the Joker, neither of these were something to be valued. You can gain or lose both at really any time, as if it was some kind of random shoestring you never got around to using, or perhaps a small piece of jewelry.

He was laughing one day at one of these said fights, when one of the biggest offenders, some freak called Killer Croc, came up to him. Killer Croc had been in Arkham for five years so far, after being decided guilty of murder. He'd instigated several fights before, and he only hurt them enough to make sure they never messed with him again. Just in case you're wondering, he wasn't the one with the entourage. But he was a hulking mass of green tinted, scaly muscle. So you can understand why the Joker's laughter died when he saw him.

"Do you know who I am?" asked Croc menacingly. The Joker put on a look of mock concentration and contemplation and said, "Hm…John Travolta? No wait, wait, Brad Pitt! Oh, I'm so bad at these." Croc got tired of it and grabbed the Joker by the throat. Croc pulled him towards his face, stopping just short. The Joker said, "Hey, this is fairly intimate. I appreciate the gesture, but I like it better if they buy me a drink fir- WHOA!" At that moment Croc had thrown the Joker off the bleachers.

Croc placed his massive foot on the Joker's chest and growled, "Idiot! I'm Killer Croc, and I don't think we've met! So I'd like to introduce myself with some fighting!" The Joker said, "Well, I was watching a fight when you so rudely threw onto my back, so if you don't mind, maybe we could this later over coffee." Croc leaned down and said through gritted, serrated teeth, "NO!" The Joker nodded and said, "You're right, you're absolutely right…the coffee here's terrible."

Croc picked up the Joker and said, "Look, little man, we're doing this now, and we're FIGHTING!" The sentence caught the attention of the other criminals who were fighting, and it compelled them to stop. The Joker sighed, seemingly exasperated, and said, "Now, look! You've made them stop! Nobody's even gotten their nose broken yet. Oh, wait, my mistake, there's bleeding from the mouth! Even better." Croc growled loudly and dropped the Joker. "It wouldn't be worth it to fight you," said Croc, "You'd just make jokes."

As Croc turned away, the Joker grinned and ran toward him. Grabbing Croc's head, the Joker charged at the bleachers. The Joker stopped and slammed Croc's head onto the bleachers, busting it and knocking him unconscious. He leaned down and looked at Croc, saying, "Never provoke a joker. He won't fight fair." The Joker proceeded to sit on the bleachers, using Croc as a footrest. The criminals who were previously fighting were still staring at the Joker. He waved his hand towards them and said, "Go on. You guys were just starting to get entertaining."

That day at lunch, nobody got within ten feet of the Joker, except for Ryukyu, Barren, and Wellsley. Barren seemed happy. "Hey, boss," he said, "I heard you roughed up Killer Croc." The Joker said, "Ah, whatever. The fight I was watching was better." All three henchmen were thinking how strange their ringleader had become. Barren spoke again. "Hey, boss," he said, "we've been thinking, and we think we should all have little names, with you being the Joker now and all." The Joker looked up and said, "That's not a bad idea. How's about for you, Harold: Smiley." "Smiley?" asked Barren, "Why Smiley?" The Joker put his hands together.

"I'm glad you asked," he said, "Well, Harold, I'm the Joker. You're American. Now if I'm the Joker, I'm fairly sure I should have henchmen with names or appearances that have to do with smiling or laughing and/or where they're from. So for you, Smiley. For Joseph, Chester, like the Cheshire Cat. For Masashi, Kami, short for Kamikaze." "Maybe so," said Wellsley. "Good," said the Joker. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to get more banana pudding."

One detail of my parents' death hasn't been said yet. They died less than a week before their 15th wedding anniversary. And so, a few days after my birthday and their deaths, I stood once again in front of their headstones. As I walked up I said, "Happy anniversary. I bought roses for Mom for you, Dad, so remember, you owe me one. Not much has happened, but I have started to try to protect the city as the Batman. I know it sounds pretty crazy, but I figure I can do some good." I heard someone behind me. "I thought I'd find you here, Bats!" Bats?, I thought, puzzled. No one calls me that. I turned around and saw Dick standing there, smiling.

"Wait," I said. "There's no way you could have known I was going to be here. How long, exactly, have you been waiting for me?" Dick shrugged his shoulders and said, "Eh, a couple of hours. I do it every day. I wanted to talk to you." "About breaking into my house?" I asked. Dick made a dismissive gesture and said, "Nah, I figure that's water under the bridge." "Uh-huh," I said. "What is it you want?"

Dick rubbed his hands together rapidly and said, "I wanted to ask you about this whole Batman gig you've got going." I looked at him and said, "Seriously. While I'm giving flowers to my dead parents you want to talk about my unusual night job?" "Heck yeah, I want to talk about it," he replied. I sighed and said, "Fine. What do you want to ask about it?" "Okay, here goes…can I get in on it?" I stared at him. "No," I said, "Absolutely not." "Aw, come on," said Dick, "I was able to break into your house, man! I mean, I could do this!" "It's more dangerous than you think," I said.

Dick seemed frustrated. "Look, I already packed my bags," he said. "I want to be able to move into your place!" I looked at him and said, "That wouldn't be because it's a mansion, would it?" Dick went "pffft" and said, "Whaaaat?! No, man! Of course not!" I kept staring at him. "Okay, in part," he said. "Look, the only way that's ever going to happen is if I adopt you, or something," I said. Dick raised a finger and said, "Au contraire, my friend. I have an apartment. All you have to do is…" "Wait," I interrupted, "You have an apartment?" "Well, actually it's not mine, I just used it to fool Mr. Geralds." I had just realized how many laws this kid had broken.

I put my hand to my face and said, "Alright, fine. If I don't you won't leave me alone. Now, what is it you were saying I had to do?" "All you have to do," he said, "is pick me up. Like I said, I'm packed." I thought about it. "Okay," I said, "but you won't be fighting crime any time soon." "I guess I can deal with that," said Dick. I looked back to my parents' graves and said, "Bye, guys. I'm about to make a terrible mistake." "Don't listen to him," said Dick. "I'm a pretty good kid, and…" "You broke into my HOUSE!" I said angrily.

Dick threw his hands up in mock surrender. He turned around and walked back towards my Rolls-Royce. I walked up to the driver's side, rubbing the bridge of my nose. As I got in the car, I noticed Dick fiddling with everything, making the windshield-wipers go on full, making Mariachi music blare from the radio, and repeatedly turning the A/C on and off. I stopped him and said, "What, have you never been in a car before?" Dick shrugged and said, smiling, "Not one as nice as this."

I looked around the car. It was nice. I guess I just always took that for granted. When we reached the apartment building, Dick got out and said frantically, "Okay, let's go. I'm going to climb up the fire escape and chuck the luggage down into the dumpster." "Why?" I asked. "Well," he said, "The proprietor of this place was asleep when I showed Mr. Geralds, and I don't know if the actual owner has returned, so I'm going to have to be careful."

As he ran off towards the fire escape, I lifted my arms and let them fall back down to my sides. This kid's a piece of work, I thought. I kept watching him, and my mouth fell open when he reached the fire escape. He clambered up with the skills of a spider monkey. I guess being an acrobat paid off. Soon, pieces of luggage began raining into the dumpster below. Within a few minutes, Dick was back on the ground, starting to get his stuff from the dumpster.

As he ran back, he said, "Okay, also, I have an Xbox coming in from Amazon. It should arrive sometime today. We'll just have to wait." "I have one at my house," I said. "I know," said Dick. "This one's for my room." I rolled my eyes. But we did wait. And when it came, we headed towards Wayne Manor. Moving him in is going to be a job, I thought.