Stacked up next to the Joker was a pile of newspapers; each Gotham news outlet was represented for every day since the attack on the stadium. Not that much had time had passed or any new information had really accumulated. What the clown was looking for was evidence as to who had actually committed the attack. The Joker himself was nowhere near the stadium the night it went kablooey and everyone ended up dead and as much as he loved take credit for his kills, he hated nothing more than being fingered as the guy who did it when it so very clearly lacked his class and style. There was no confetti, no jokes, no punchline. He was so very disappointed in Gotham and her citizens that they hadn’t learned by now just what was the Joker’s work and what wasn’t. He could only hope that Fatman would screw up and blame it on him, too. Now that would just be depressing!

There was shuffling coming from outside his tent, bringing a grudging eye roll from the clown as Bud and Lou ran to the entrance to see what the commotion was. The Joker didn’t particularly give a damn. He intended to shoot whoever walked through there if they didn’t entertain him, anyway. He wasn’t in the mood to play games tonight with whatever stupid idea Harley or one of his damned henchmen had. Unless they could tell him just who the hell was running around Gotham with imitation Joker serum, they were no good to him. ”You have to the count of five to stop pawing at each other and get your asses in here.” The Joker’s command was a growl, but clearly effective as a bumbling man the Joker didn’t recognize came stumbling in with a small black box in his hands. ”Uh.. uh… Mr. Joker… uh… sir… I was told to.. uh… deliver this to… uh… you… uh…”

”I uh guess uh I should uh take it then uh before you uh piss yourself uh.” The words came out on a giggle as pale white hands darted out to snatch up the box before carelessly pulling it open. Laying inside was a single black feather and a charred coin; the marks of the Penguin and Two-Face. ”Geez, you think ol’ Ozzie or Harv could be bothered to wrap up such a nice gift first!” There was an almost comical expression of grief on the Joker’s face as he slid his hand inside his front jacket pocket. ”Can I uh… deliver them a message for you… sir?” The man was red from head to toe and covered in nervous sweat as he fidgeted in front of the clown.

The only response he got was a smile as the Joker removed his favorite revolver and aimed it level with the man’s head.”Yes, tell them…” He waved the gun around in the air, pulling the trigger once before a flag with the word ‘BANG’ on it stuck out. There was a dark giggle in response to the man’s sigh of relief; the last sound he made before the Joker pulled the trigger again and sent the flag barreling into the man’s skull like a bullet, killing him instantly.”I accept.”

(Source: gothamlost.proboards.com)