I felt the cloth be taken off of my head and I looked at my now grinning, proud father. Gotham's meanest, weirdest villian.... The Joker. I was tied to a chair, my freshly cut wounds on my cheeks had dried blood crusted over them. I looked at my father with no emotion at all. I blinked. He punched me across my face and broke out into uncontrolable laughter. I slowly turned my head back to him my bangs slightly in my face. He bent over and I swiftly kicked him across his cheek laughing just like him. He turned and smiled evilly.
Joker: Nice to have you back Chester. We missed you.
Chester: Nice to be back. Juvee did nothing to me. I got jumped, but they went down easy. Not fun. Nothing challenging.
Then I saw Ace, Clove, and King walk into the room. I walked over and hugged them.
Ace: Miss Sexy britches got caught, what was it like?
Chester: Boring as hell. No real toture or fun. Just a bunch of b.s questions.
Clove: Lucky. I wanted to get caught and see if I could have some fun with the Police.
Chester: I tried! They're so serious. They need to laugh! Mwahaha!
I laughed malevloently. The boys joined in.
Chester: Whens our next heist?
Joker: Soon enough. But first let's see you guys do solo syncrhronized heists. So that way Batman will be forced to choose one or the other. He'll more than likely go for Chester.
King: Why?
Joker: He'll think she's weaker and I don't know if you've noticed this, but we look alike and that'll piss him off and he'll try and get to me by going after her. It's going down tomorrow. So start planning.
He walked off heading to where ever the hell he goes. I walked towards my room.
Chester: Nacht Jungs. (Night boys.)
I opened the door to my room, FiFi raised up from laying on my bed. He's a muscular pitbull. She'll tear your arm off if I told her too. I smiled and shut the heavy metal door. I walked over took my coat and set it on my desk. Then I loosened my tie. I took off my gloves. I walked over and sat on my desk. I placed my hands, palms up, under the light and saw no lines indicating finger or palm print identification. My father when I was born placed my hands in a type of acid, I'll think of the name later, and it technically burnt the micro-lines on my hands gone. I closed them and swirled the chair around facing FiFi. She raised her head.
Chester: Oh. FiFi. Momma's loves you and your killer bite.
Then I turned back around and began to draw out my blueprints. I finished in less than two hours. I'm begining to be like more like my father every day...
