Very offensive, I like it. A nice start to what will probably be an interesting story.
This picks up directly from the end of I, Joker. Its rated R simply becuase of all the violence that will take place. Let's not forget whom this story is about.
Oh, yeah, and enjoy.
“No, it’s weird. He’s barely moved and he hasn’t said a word for three weeks now.”
“Any word from Dr. Arkham?”
“Says his scarring incident left him traumatized. He’s probably a vegetable.”
The two guards continued their conversation as they walked down the corridors of the Arkham madhouse. For three weeks, I had sat in my padded cell. I hadn’t moved. I hadn’t spoken. They fed me. They had assumed there was nothing inside me any longer.
I’d like to thank the Academy.
For three weeks, I had silently observed the inner makings of the Asylum. I was always watching. Always learning. When all you do is observe, you’d be surprised what you can learn about something. From when they took me to the medi-lab for my injection to when they hauled me to the shower room; in three weeks, I knew Arkham Asylum inside and out.
I knew that it took the guards about 7 minutes before they would walk past my cell again. I knew that after their next pass, it would be 45 seconds before Dr. Ross would open the secured doors and clock in. Without fail she was 2 minutes late every day. I knew that 4 minutes after she clocked in, the truck with this weeks medical supplies would be let in through the gate outside. I knew that right outside my window, the gate guard and the truck driver would talk casually for anywhere between 30-50 seconds.
I knew that this was going to be a hell of a lot of fun.
Far down the corridor, I heard the guard making his way back to me. I had one minute before he was here. Forty-five seconds. Thirty.
I cleared my throat and readied for my performance.
Add in a few desperate breaths.
“HEEEEELLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLP!!!! THERE’S SOMETHING HORRIBLE IN HERE! HURRY!!! HURRY!!!!!!!!! OH MYGOD, PLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAASE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”
The guard came running. He took one look at me quivering on my bed. He called down the hall.
“It’s the vegetable!”
The guard took his key card out of his pocket and swiped it through the receiver of my cell, the glass hissed open. He shuffled in.
“HE’S HORRIBLE!!!! HE’S HORRIBLE!!! GET HIM OUT OF HEEEEEEEERRRRRE!!!!”
“Calm down! Who is? Who’s horrible?”
I smiled at him.
“Why, me of course!”
I grabbed him by the ears and slammed him into the metal grill of my bed. I didn’t have the resources to be very creative with this one. I threw him on the ground as he grabbed his oozing nose. I placed my foot on his throat until I heard a satisfying crack.
Quickly, I pillaged his pockets. There I found a gun, a night stick, sedative syringes, and a wallet with $150. Not a bad start.
I had only twenty seconds to intercept Doctor Ross at the door. I ran out of my cell, gun in hand. I heard a man’s footsteps quickly gaining on me from behind. I turned and shot. I continued running as his head grew a new ventilation shaft.
I neared the reception desk. The secretary was pretending to read a magazine, hiding from me. There was no sight of Dr. Ross yet.
“Crimeny… Ashley Ross hasn’t come in yet, has she?”
“So, how’ve you been?”
“I hear you. I know how office jobs can be sometimes. Trust me.”
She was cute. I was making small talk. Sue me.
It was getting frustrating counting the seconds in my head, though. It was becoming quite distracting.
Just then, Dr. Ross appeared at the door. The secretary looked at me and then at Ross, not quite sure what she was supposed to do.
“Aren’t you going to let her in?”
The secretary shakily reached for the button and buzzed her in. Dr. Ross. She walked in the door holding a cup of coffee.
“Hi there, Sheila. I’m running a little later than usual today. I….”
I quickly moved past her and put my foot in the door before it closed.
“I offer my thanks to the both of you. You’ve served my purpose more than well.”
I aimed the gun at Dr. Ross, when something gleamed at the corner of my eye.
“Dr. Ross, does that watch of yours have a second hand?”
I slipped the watch on my wrist.
“Never mind kids, thanks for the watch. Catch you later.”
With the watch I didn’t have to do all that bloody counting in my head. I now had 2 minutes and 47 seconds to get past that truck. More than enough.
I strolled into the courtyard. I took a look around. Nice building. Nicer than the inside anyway. I looked back and saw a pile of rocks. I went over and picked up a nice pointed one.
I walked over to the brick wall and etched into it.
“JOKER WUZ HERE!”
I heard the truck rumbling towards the gate. I dropped the rock, and made my way to the security guard who monitored the gate. He pressed a button and the truck drove inside.
The truck pulled up beside the guard’s station. The driver leaned out his window.
“Afternoon, John. How’re you holding up?”
“About the same. You?”
He turned and looked at me standing right in between them.
“Jeez, what’s your deal?”
“My deal is this that I present to you. You have the option of letting me have the truck and clearance to leave here, or you have the option of going through the motions of refusing and alerting the fuzz,” I aimed my gun at the guard, “after which I’ll kill the both of you and I’ll get what I want anyway.”
They looked at each other.
I put the truck in gear and leaned out the window.
“You two boys have done me proud. Now stand to the side so I know you won’t alert the proper authorities until I’ve left, ‘kay?”
They moved to where they were told, and I drove forward. As I drove forward, I saw them out of the corner of my eye.
Ah, what the hell?
I quickly swerved and ran both of them over.
I straightened the truck out and drove out of the gate.
First day on the job. Not even half an hour in. Four kills.
Not too shabby.
I’d have to stop at the carwash to clean two guys off of the grill of my truck, though.
Last edited by SilentBob173; 08-19-2002 at 12:04 AM.
Where's the next post?????????
Your fans oh so pateintly await it.
Oof, been awhile... Sorry it took me so long to get back to you SilentBob, I have been away from the boards, and then a million things are going on here at school and stuff.
Anyway this is very interesting. I loved I, Joker -- you have a very interesting grasp of the Joker character and I think this will be just as interesting.
Anxiously awaiting the next installment!
Sorry kids. school just restarted plus I've got my school's play all week, so ol' JS gets a bit tied up. Expect Chapter 2 later today or tommorrow. Promise!
Also, It will probably be an average thing to have a week or two tween posts, unless I find a magic loophole of some sort. Sorry.
I appreciate the comments I've got thus far. Makes me glad leaving I, Joker alone wasn't the way to go.
Last edited by SilentBob173; 09-02-2002 at 07:54 AM.
This was finished and ready to go yesterday, I swear, but with the server problems I was unable to get it up. So here you are Chapter Two of the story. Oh, and if you're interested, with the outline that I'm currently using it looks like this story will be eleven chapters and an epligoue, so we still have a ways to go. Enjoy.
P.S. Starting with this chapter, if you have not read the first installment (I, Joker), it will be infinitely helpful to you if you do so before proceeding any further.
I had a hundred and fifty bucks to blow. I’d have to be thrifty. Being a methodical serial killer isn’t cheap. But do what you love, right?
There’s some place I’m supposed to go to find clothes and supplies. I don’t know why or what it is. All I know is where it is and that the supplies will be free. Can’t argue with results.
I need to pick up clothes, some food, and a few cleaning supplies.
Tonight; I clean house.
I arrive at the address. It’s a crummy old apartment building in the bad part of town. Two steps in I’m hit with the smell of cat litter and old people. Mice scurried across the hallway floor.
I started walking through the apartment building. As I walked past the doors, it all seemed somewhat familiar. Very distant, but familiar overall.
Suddenly I found myself stopping. This was the apartment. I reached for the knob, but it was locked. On instinct, I lifted the doormat and found the key.
The apartment itself was tidy, but due to the condition of the building, it still seemed unpleasant. It was if there was a dirt covering the entire dwelling that could never be scrubbed off in a million years.
It was amazing the way I found everything I needed by simply guessing where it was.
First, I made a trip to the wardrobe. I searched through all the suits on hangers and picked and matched an outfit. I walked into the bathroom mirror to check out the new duds for myself. God only knows what color it was. All I knew was; I looked goooood. My suit had tails that swung down past the backs of my knees. I wore a vest and a bow tie. It just seemed to fit.
I was one sexy mother.
Then I clambered into the kitchen and began fiddling around with the cleaning supplies. For reasons unknown, I simply had a natural knowledge for the chemicals in each one of the bottles. I knew what I was doing. Furthermore, I knew what I wanted.
I combined my special ingredients into one bottle. Turpentine, Ammonia, lemon juice, Pepsi, a little of this, and little of were the makings of Mister J’s special gumbo. A mixture of my own special herbs and spices.
I walked towards the door with my supplies over my shoulder, ready to kiss the mysterious apartment goodbye, when I caught something out of the back corner of my eye. A red light blinked upon the answering machine.
I never said I was invulnerable to curiosity.
“You have three new messages in Answering Box”
“Um. Hello. This is Gotham Morgue. I’m going to need you to come in and fill out the forms for Jeannie’s burial. I understand this is not an easy time for you, but please come in as soon as you can. Thank you again.”
Jeannie? Who the hell’s Jeannie? Did I kill her? This was all so frustrating. It was if I should be able to recite this stuff without thinking about it, but I just can’t seem to touch the memory for long enough for it to surface. It was like having an intense itch that I could never ever reach.
“Hi honey. This is Mom. I, uh, look, I know you and I haven’t spoken in seven years, but I wanted to call and offer my sympathy for Jeannie’s death. I’d like for us to start talking again. I haven’t had anything to drink in a few months. I’ve been doing real good. Even you’d be proud of me. So, please, uh, just give me a call or something.”
I couldn’t explain why, but I suddenly felt a great deal of bitterness towards this man’s mother. I felt as if she’d spent years hurting me. My fist clenched. With inspiration still coursing through my veins, I ran to the kitchen and grabbed a few more supplies from the kitchen while the last message played.
“Well, it’s been two weeks since I called. So, I realize that you’ve decided to leave your mother out of your equation from now on. I can understand that. I might… I may have done the same thing… same thing in your spot. I … I just tried so hard to clean up, so maybe we could… I’m sorry. I’ll, I’ll let you go.”
As I stuffed the last few knives in my suitcase, I slammed the door on the apartment.
And on the past, as well, I suppose.
Last edited by SilentBob173; 09-02-2002 at 07:55 AM.
My first response:
Much, /much/ too short. Come on - that wasn't a chapter - that was a teaser! Keep going!
My second response:
I find it very interesting how you have drawn (so to speak) Joker and Jack as two seperate entities. Most other pasts of the Joker usaually portray him as a fairly bad man who's dip in the vat let loose all his inhibitions making him Pure Evil. Your rendition can draw closer parallels to Jekel and Hyde and its heart breaking to see what's happening to this sympathetic Everyman gone schizo.
I'm a little disturbed by the knowlegde Smilex can be whipped up in the kitchen sink. Who knew? And I've got a sense of forebodding by the combination of the telephone messages and the last thing he stuffed in the suitcase, but I'll just have to wait.
Great touch of the door slamming down on the past
<crawls out from under her rock again> Oiy, so busy lately. Never get to spend quality time here on the boards and read everything I want to.
That said, Panther's right -- that was harsh, SilentBob, that wasn't a chapter -- way too short. I'm hurt, deeply hurt. And curious, deeply curious.
Panther, you took the words right out my my mouth. This is a very interesting take on the Joker. I actually like this angle better than the tried and true dump him in that vat of chemicals and poof his id just takes over. This on the other hand seems to be a far more interesting take on things and I must say you're handling it very well.
Ok... Smilex can be made in my kitchen... I'm a bit freaked out. That could be bad.
Anxious to see where this is going -- and rather wary of that "Bag o' Tricks" he's got. Can't wait for the next chapter!
Here' s part three. Introducing the one, the only...
“What do you want?”
“Oh, come now! You’re supposed to say ‘Who’s there’!”
“Honey, is that you?” her voice was slurred and excited. I stood there with my suitcase as I listened to her fumble with the locks.
“I’m so glad to see you, I…”
“Honey? Is that…?”
I cut her off, pushing her into the apartment and closing the door behind us. I stared her down for a moment. She wasn’t making any attempt to get up, so I propped my suitcase on the table and began searching through it.
“What… what’s the matter? Why are you doing this? Why are you dressed like that?”
I didn’t look up from my suitcase. “Oh, this isn’t makeup, my fine example of maternity, this is the real deal.”
She rose from the floor and started towards me.
“Oh. Oh, my baby! Who’s done this to you?”
She wrapped her arms around me. I exploded out of them.
“Off! Off! Germs! Germs! Woman, I have no idea who the hell you are, and all I do know is that I should kill you. It’s not my damn fault I’m crazy. Don’t take it out on me by hugging me!”
“You don’t remember me?”
“I can only guess that I should.”
“Its me! I’m your mother!”
“Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”
“No. Can you tie yourself up, or do I have to do it for you?”
She was too busy sobbing to do too much struggling. I stood back to observe my work. Her arms were tied behind her back. Her feet tied together. Her mouth gagged. She stood atop a chair. There was noose around her neck.
It looked strange. I couldn’t find a nice length of rope on such short notice. I did find an extension cord, however. I looked it all over. I went to her to make a few more adjustments. I tightened the noose around her neck a little.
I patted her on the cheek and smiled at her. She had a wonderful look of fear in her eyes but didn’t dare move too much for fear of falling off the chair.
“Now, I’m doing you a great favor by hanging you. I have a bag just chock full of wonderful things. Painful things. This should be relatively quick. Judging by the amounf of empty alcohol bottles on the table, I don’t think you’d have felt it anyway. Any last words?”
I gently pulled the tape of her mouth.
“Please! Don’t! I don’t know what’s happened to you, or what I did, but please don’t - - !”
I moved the tape back towards her mouth.
“HELP! PLEASE HELP!”
I taped her mouth shut again.
“Look, its midnight. Who’s really going to be out here at this time of night to help you?”
Her eyes focused on something that wasn’t me. Something that was behind me.
Someone was here.
I turned and saw a figure shrouded in the darkness. I couldn’t make out who it was. I didn’t have time for this. I took my gun out and shot them. They let out a grunt and fell to the ground.
“Now, as I was saying before we were interrupted, I - -“
Her eyes focused behind me again.
I turned with my gun, but this time it was kicked out of my hand, and I was pushed into the wall.
My throat was being clenched so hard I couldn’t see very well, but I could still think just fine.
I grabbed a knife from my belt, and sliced at his arm. He growled and it gave me time to slip past him. I decided my best bet was to turn on the lights, so I could have a better view of what I was doing.
I flicked the lights on. I looked to him, and all I saw was a mass of black flowing cloth. I wanted to know who this buffoon was, but he seemed unhappy with me so I wasn’t going to strike a conversation with him. I grabbed a chair and swung it at him.
He grabbed it and mid-swing and tossed it aside. In a split second he jumped on top of me and we fell to the ground.
I got my first look at him. My eyes went wide with surprise. I looked up into the face of a bat.
I love your writing SilentBob! It's just a shame we all have to wait to read it....but it's totally worth the time it takes.
Keep up the great job!!!
Oh, and by the way, I have been telling all my friends about your Joker stories, and the ones who actually listened to me, and came to see them, told me how great they were.
One of them isn't really a Batman fan! That says something!!!!!
I absolutely love this story, SilentBob! What an exciting "introduction" to the Bat himself (even though he's seen him before, but you know). How Joker-ish, though to be completely preoccupied with his victim and not even care that someone snuck in his apartment, or might attack him. What a gem.
As Selena said, it's a shame we have to wait so long to get more, but it definitely is well worth the time and patience. See you after the next installment, I'm sure!
Ditto to what Selena and BleuUnicorn said! Great entrance for Bataman. Wow is that guy quick on the uptake - I didn't expect anyone to track down Joker for a lot longer than /that/. Of course, he /is/ the World's Greatest Detective.
He really does live in his own little world...he seemed unhappy with me so I wasn’t going to strike a conversation with him
Hope to see another post soon!
Just gotta say what a great job you're doing here, SilentBob. You have a gift for the dark humor, I see, and I like how in I, Joker you referred to "the man" in third person, whereas here Joker has claimed himself and his actions.
Just fantastic. I am definitely hungry for more!
"Paris is a city for lovers. Maybe that's why I've never been there for more than half an hour."
Humphrey Bogart, Sabrina
Originally posted by Daughterof_Evil
I like how in I, Joker you referred to "the man" in third person, whereas here Joker has claimed himself and his actions.
The idea I always wanted to get acrossed was that it was always Joker telling the story. From the beginning with the comedian, until now, until the very end. It was always Joker at the typewriter, but the its the fact that he does not regard the comedian as himself. That's a completley different person to him. So he's telling this story, and that's why the comedian sounds as pathetic as he does. Joker finds this sad man an absolute pathetic waste. That's why in these early days he blocks the memory out completley. Some things happen near the middle to end of this second Act that bring it all back for him.
This second part is going to tie in with the first real soon in the best way, I promise.
Since I haven't acknowledged it yet, I'd very much like to thank everyone for their high praise. It makes my day, I swear.
And I apologize for the time it takes between posts. Apart from school and such, I've also got another project I'm working on at the same time. It doesn't have anything to do with ToonZone, and its getting the majority of my attention right now. I love writing this story, though, and I have every inention on keeping it going all the way until the end of the third Act.
Look for the nex chapter later today or tommorrow.
Last edited by SilentBob173; 09-26-2002 at 09:36 PM.
I can't decide if my internet connection hates me, you, or the lot of us, but regardless lack of connection to the web kept me from giving you this when I said I would. Sorry.
Hope you enjoy.
I soaked him in.
The costume was just goofy as hell.
I struggled to speak with his strong hands tight around my throat.
“That’s not a face you’d want to wake up to in the morning. Just who the hell are you supposed to be?”
He picked me up by my lapels and held me to his face.
“Call me Batman.”
I was thrown into the kitchen table. A bruised rib, easy.
“Do I really have to?” I reached for a knife in my back pocket. “You have to admit, that’s not a real high-quality moniker you got there, champ.”
I lunged for him with the blade, but it was dodged and he planted his fist in my gut. I spit blood. Great; just great.
He pinned me to the wall.
“Anything you want me to call you?”
“Oh, now I’m embarrassed. I can’t; you’ll laugh.”
I tried to land a punch on him, but he seemed untouchable. Who was this guy? I couldn’t gather if he was a badass or a queer. There was - - wait. An idea hit me. I start attempting to jerk him to my left quickly. He becomes tired with this as I would hope, and throws me to the right. Moron.
I land right beside my suitcase. I make it look like an accident. I shove my hand inside the suitcase as I hit the floor.
Nope. Nope. Yep.
I kept the charade that he had hurt me. I crawled a few feet to my right. Should I moan? Yeah, that’s a good idea.
I was only ten feet away from the woman whom still happened to be standing atop the chair. He hadn’t gone to save her yet. He must be new at this whole super-hero game. He’s not very good yet.
I fake the pain and shakily stand, holding my hand against the wall. Then I look up at him and side step to the chair lady. I held a knife to her throat.
“Leave or kill her. Pick your poison.”
Now, I may be eccentric, but I’m not stupid. I knew this had no chance of ever working. He stood there for a few seconds to call my bluff, when he saw that I was letting down, he started to back away. In one fluid motion almost too fast for the eye to see, he thrusts his arm in my direction.
Something black and made of metal hit me directly on the hand that was holding the knife. It surprised me, but I had anticipated something like this. The knife was a charade. The real fun was what was in the other hand.
He rushed for me. I went for the woman. He grabbed me by the waste. I only had time to touch her by the arm. No chance to pull her off the chair and tighten the rope. No matter, I didn’t really want to hang her anyway. By touching her arm, I accomplished everything I needed to.
My body exploded in pain as he laid blow after blow on me. I was then thrust into the wall. Sprained wrist.
Knowing my job here was done, I sat tight for a spell. He lifted the noose from around her neck. He cut her ropes.
“ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha”
Someone was laughing.
“Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha HA HA HA HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!”
It wasn’t me.
She was bent over clutching her stomach. She was in the throes of hysterical laughter. The big guy was certainly confused. He’d clearly never seen anything like this before. Neither had I, really. It was my first time. It was all very exciting.
“What? What’s wrong? What’s so funny?”
Oh, Batsy, just you wait.
“HAHAHAHEHEHAHAHAEHAHAHAHAHAHHEEEAHAHAHAAAAAAA – urk!”
“What’s wrong? What’s - -“
He rolled her face over took at him. Her eyes were rolled back into their sockets. There was drool dripping from her stiff grin.
I stood up.
He inspected her. He found fresh blood on her arm where I had touched her a few seconds ago. it was only a scratch, but it was very much so a fresh scratch. He looked over to me and stood up straight gently laying her on the floor. He looked like he wanted answers. I gave him one.
I waved at him. In my hand was a hypodermic needle. In its chamber was Smilex. There were a few drips of fresh blood on it.
“A clever little concoction of mine. I wasn’t sure how well it was going to work out though. She was more a guinea pig than anything. Had all the effects I wanted it to. I’m rather impressed, what about you?”
I saw it in his eyes. In a split-second he realized the kind person I was. He figured it out. He was sickened.
He started walking towards me.
“ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha”
Someone was laughing.
“Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha HA HA HA HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!”
This time it was me.
His first victim of Smilex was his /mother/?!? Ouch.
I like his evaluation of Batman. Too bad we can't see what Bat's view of the situation was.
PLease post more soon!
WOW! This is great stuff! Truly the real Joker.
"There is an idea of a Patrick Bateman; some kind of abstraction. But there is no real me; only an entity, something illusory. And though I can hide my cold gaze, and you can shake my hand and feel flesh gripping yours and maybe you can even sense our lifestyles are probably comparable... I simply... am not... there."
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