Tuesday, 23 June 2015

Nolan Mashup

"Do you wanna know how I got these scars?"
Now anyone who has interacted with the Joker would know the words to follow would be in no way pleasant.

"I want to see my wife and kids, please."

"My PT teacher was a disciplinarian. And a visionary. He would inspire me. He would ask me to dream, to let go, to be free, to run after what I want. I dreamt of becoming an actor. And then you know what he did? Hmm? He said that I wasn't good enough. I wasn't a good enough an actor. But I never stopped acting, I never stopped dreaming. I could never distinguish between what's real and what's not; always getting high on the laughing gas available at the chemistry lab. And as strange as it may sound, you remind me of my PT teacher. And by now, you must've realised that I absolutely hated my PT teacher.", he said as he slit across the victim's mouth, before brutally stabbing him to death. Then he laughed. A laugh so hard, so resonating that it would consequently wake him up.

[Back on home turf]

But there was something unnatural about Gotham. Gotham seemed vaguely appeased with his presence. He was amused with this, as it seemed to entirely contradict the sole purpose of his existence.

Joker couldn't really recollect when he'd fallen asleep. Or when he restitched his torn underwear for that matter.

"What next, sir?"

Joker looked towards the man accompanying him. As much as he pressurized his memory into giving away who this man was, he couldn't succeed, though mysteriously enough, he was convinced of the stranger's affability to him. The man wouldn't stop rubbing his palms together. Joker didn't ask the man of his identity as he realised he isn't really getting a hold on things happening around him.

"What next, sir?", the man asked again, never halting the rhythmic flow of the furious rubbing of his palms. Joker was even more perplexed, for it seemed like he had been a man with a plan.

"Tell him sir. What's the apprehension all about?"
"Yes sir, tell him. It's simple."
"We kill the Batman."
Joker, unaccustomed as he was to the concept of a protagonist, could do nothing but nod in affirmation, which was understandably uncharacteristically subdued.

The man guided Joker out of the station towards the most probable hiding destination of the outcast. No matter how loathed, how despised the Batman had been, he still was a formidable opponent. And a hero of Joker's caliber was a necessity to terminate his tyranny.

As they crossed the roads, Joker, still perturbed by the stranger's neurotic rubbing of palms, met scores of civilians, who unanimously cheered for his victory.

"He's over there, at the end of the tunnel. He's there."
Gordon seemed to have been patiently waiting for their arrival. While the stranger was accompanying him to his destiny, Joker spotted the Batman, who seemed petrified by the sight of him.

"This is it. Now is the moment. He isn't even up for a fight. Finish him sir. Now is your moment. Kill him sir.", the stranger whispered rubbing his palms.

A gun.
The last device he would've used to outdo his arch nemesis but at that precise moment he was too confused to do otherwise. He shot the Batman, point blank, as Gotham erupted in joyous unison.

Joker might've been the only person in Gotham who wasn't celebrating. And he was increasingly growing sick of this new, friendly Gotham.

He wanted an explanation. A closure. To what? He did not know.

"Wait, I need to see my totem. I must have it here somewhere."

Cobb let out a crisp laugh, rubbing his palms all the while. He kept smiling suggestively. A very inanimate smile, that would've horrified the living daylights out of anyone but Joker. Cobb himself couldn't comprehend the mystery of the deadly slit across his mouth.

"I am your totem, sir."

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