A Joke the World Will Know

Emptiness. That was what he could describe his world to be right now. The whole universe he was floating around in was vast, infinite... and empty.

He lay still, waiting for... something. It was as if his spirit hadn't moved from its position because it somehow knew something was going to happen to it. The spirit couldn't remember how it had died, what it had looked like, or what its name had been. But it sat still, waiting for the moment to come.

A small light appeared right in front of the spirit. Instead of veering away from it, the spirit floated toward it. The light grew exponentially in size, until it threatened to swallow the universe the spirit rested in. The spirit quickened its pace. This was what it had been waiting for, the moment when-

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

His head snapped back against the chair and he sucked in a mouthful of air as his body convulsed against the chair restraints. His eyes widen and blinding white light assaulted his vision. His ears slowly adjusted to pick up the voices of the bodies around him. "SuCceSsss," they cried, "CAll PrOfessor Strange immediately, we have successfully brought back another patient!"

He blinked rapidly as his eyes adjusted to the powerful white light. He exhaled that first breath and breathed in another through his nose, slower this time. The air smelled manufactured and decontaminated of any outside sources; no doubt he was in a hospital setting. He smiled at the two other white-coated people in the room. "Hi," he said, making it sound as if he was trying to seduce them.

One of the orderlies turned him. "Please do not talk to me. The only person you are authorized to talk to is Professor Strange. He will be here in a moment."

Jerome Valeska, that was his name. "So, Thing One," Jerome said, relaxing in his chair, "what do you like to do for fun?" He had been in Arkham before for murdering his slut mother-

"I cannot talk to you, only Professor Strange can."

Jerome turned to the other orderly. "What about you Thing Two, what do you like to do?" Jerome said in a singsong-like voice. The sentences had rhymed and that was kind of funny so he let out a little giggle... -but then a Theo Galavan and his sister had broken him and a couple others out to form the Maniax-

"I can't call you guys Thing One and Thing Two, it's so unoriginal, so I'll call you"-he nodded toward the first orderly- "Ricky Bob, and I'll call you"- he said to the other orderly- "Louie." Jerome giggled as the orderlies showed no change in expression. What was with them, all he wanted was a simple conversation... -and there was a master plan and a bus full of cheerleaders and Russian Roulette and a magic show-

"So Louie," Jerome said to the orderly, "since you didn't tell me what you like to do for fun, I'll tell you what I like to do." Jerome giggled as immature thoughts flooded his mind. "Your mom."

Jerome giggled again as the orderly turned to face him. This guy totally didn't understand the real joke. "Really, a 'Your Mama' joke?" The orderly actually looked annoyed at the lack of originality. He stood up from his chair and leaned over Jerome, unconsciously pushing a tray full of doctoring tools closer to the resurrected teenager. The orderly's face was smug. "What are you, five years old?"

Jerome gave the orderly his best smile. "No, but I'm about to make you cry like one." He stabbed downward (not as powerfully as he wanted to, but it still got the message through) with a scalpel he had just swiped from the tray and twisted it deep into the orderly's hand. The orderly screeched in pain and yanked his hand away. Jerome laughed as the other orderly jumped up to help his friend. "WHAT A GREAT OPENING PUNCHLINE!" Jerome shouted, cackling as a man with circular glasses and a chinstrap beard walked into the room.