The Joker

Manic and twitchy eye'd, the clown prince of crime stared at a pin board full of scribbled ideas on post-it notes. "No no no, that one just won't do."

"I took the year off. It was enough of a joke already, so you're welcome, Gotham."

"Weeks! Months even. Everyone knows abandoned factories make the best villain hideouts."

"Gone, but never very far away."

She should do it.

"I'm not going to participate in this."

"Dearest Harleen, you and I both know that I'm not just anyone, am I?"

Murder, mostly. Though some just have a very poor sense of humor.

If all she wanted was some action, really anyone would do.

"...And ruin the joke? Ha!"

"Tsk tsk. Most of those things I've happily succeeded in, thank you very much. But if you need more time to soak in your guilt, it's quite alright, Cienn. I can be patient."

"Who, your little ol' Uncle J? But I'm only here to /help/, Cienn."

It certainly wouldn't be the first time he'd pissed off a deity.

Feeling it all now, no doubt. Delightful.

His annihilation, even creatively, doesn't seem particularly fun to him at all.

Spoilsport. But it's fine. She'll remember it later anyway. When it hurts again.

What was its name, Cienn?

A Nick, perhaps? Maybe a Taylor? ...Kimmy? Charlotte, certainly.