The Bat and The Clown

Chapter 1

Oh where, oh where has my little Bat gone? Oh where, oh where could he be? His cowl, his scowl, his figure so foul, I hope he's coming for me.

These were the thoughts running through the head of the infamously known Clown Prince of Crime as he waited for his best friend to arrive.

He had just started holding up a bank, obviously as a ruse to lure in Gotham's famous Flying Rodent Man. He never needed money, well at least he thought he didn't. There was probably a time in his past when he did, I mean, everyone obviously had that time whenever they'd just have the urge to commit a double homicide out of lack of any monetary substances.

The Joker was not a man who liked to dwell on the past, never had been, never would be.

He hardly even remembered his past, and when he did, it would come in bits and pieces, causing him to remember it one way, sometimes another.

Sometimes, he remembered being a washed up old comedian with a pregnant wife who tried so desperately to support his family, only to fall into the "wrong crowd" (aka the mob) who then betrayed him at the Ace Chemicals plant, which ended with Batman accidentally dropping him into a vat of acid.

Sometimes he remembered being a happy young boy with a weak mother and an abusive father who would beat him up weekly, daily if he happened to be "extra happy". Then, one night, his father came home extra drunk, killed his mother with a kitchen knife, then scarred his cheeks, giving him his trademark glasgow smile.

Then, other times he remembered being a thug for Carmine Falcone named Jack Napier, who was hopelessly in love with Carmine's secretary/mistress. So in love, that Carmine sent him on a mission in the Ace Chemicals factory where Batman again accidentally dropped him into a vat of acid.

He also remembered his wife being an alcoholic compulsive gambler who regularly gambled while having a rising number of debts to several loan sharks. One day they carved her face, and he had no money for surgery. So, in a desperate attempt to make his wife happy again, he got a razor, and played lollipop with it. Predictably, his wife left him.

Bombarded with those memories, he immediately started chuckling, which soon turned into full blown laughter.

"If I'm going to have a past, I might as well make it multiple choice!" said Joker, cackling out loud while being watched by the frightened hostages, and by his even more frightened thugs.

"Hey boss, you okay?" said Frankie, a thug who had just been recruited about a month ago. Always loyal and eager to please. He needed to die.

Joker pulled out his trademark pistol that he liked to call the "Ace of Spades." It was an abnormally long-nosed, custom made revolver that could fire from a sniper's range, and at the same time, from a pistol's range.

He aimed it at Frankie's chest, and before the poor man could register his own fear, he had a hole in his chest and fell over.

The Joker cackled some more, scratching his itching crotch with his loaded "Ace of Spades" while laughing.

"Rocco, take out the trash!" said Joker.

Rocco DeMarco was a 6'6 African-American thug in his early-40s who had served the Joker for more than 10 years. He had unwavering loyalty, and knew how his boss worked. He was Joker's favorite and always the one who Joker would always leave alive whenever he'd have his regularly scheduled "staff cleanup".

"Sure thing boss." said Rocco, not in the least bit shaken that his boss had just murdered one of his coworkers in cold blood.

He grabbed Frankie's body, and dragged it out back to be thrown in the dumpster.

Joker pulled up a sleeve from his custom-made purple suit to check his custom-made purple-dyed Mickey Mouse watch.

"Dammit, where the hell is he?! He's never been this late before." said Joker, while at the same time remembering an incident a few years back when Batman was thought to be dead, and when Joker had nearly killed his "murderer".

"He's probably got better things to do boss." said Vinnie, another new recruit.

The Joker hated to waste bullets, but this had to be done.

One minute later and Rocco was hauling out yet another new recruit's body.

No wonder Dent and Cobblepot tended to have more men.

"Ugh, don't you just hate it when people are late for a party?" said Joker to the tied up owner of the bank.

"Mphmmmm." said the owner through the handkerchief stuffed in his mouth.

"I know right! You personally set one date in your calendar for them, and they don't even show up. Just rude." said the Joker, pacing back and forth around the bank.

"Oh well, better get some rest while waiting. Wake me up when Batbrain arrives Rocco."

"Sure thing boss." 

The Joker sat down on a nearby armchair and closed his eyes.

And let the memories flow.

"We don't need a fortune Jack!"

"What the hell are you doing lookin' like a clown boy? Get back to work!"

"You think you can steal my woman away from me, Napier?!"

"I'm leaving you, Jack!"

"What's wrong Jack old buddy? Ned some money?"

"Jack."

The Joker woke up with a start. Now there was a voice he didn't recognize. Normally, he'd receive the same stream of voices over and over again. But now, for once, his broken mind churned out a new one. And as he tried to put the voice to the face, and the face to the name, one name came to mind.

BRUCE WAYNE.