SilentBob173
05-25-2001, 03:45 PM
Barbara walked down the stairs of the cave with an envelope in her hand. Her father had handed it to her just an hour before. She had fainted when she read what was written inside.
Bruce was blindfolded. He thrust a batarang forward. 84 yards away, the weapon contacted with and chipped of a stalagmite about 1 foot wide.
“Still got it.”
“Wow. Impressive. You can still do that after all these years, huh?”
He grinned and took off the blindfold.
“It’ll probably go as soon as the gray hair sets in.”
“My, uh, my dad gave me an envelope.”
“Important, I take it?”
“A little. Here.”
Bruce took the letter from her extended hand. His quick and experienced eyes soaked it in.
“Commissioner? Are you going to except?”
“I, I- I, uh don’t think so. I mean what about what I’m doing here?”
“You’d have to choose. I’d respect any decision you’d make, but you’d be sorely missed here. It’d be just me and Tim.”
“I know. I know.”
Bruce started walking away.
“Where are you going?”
“I have a few errands to run tonight.”
--
“How? Why weren’t you there before? In court, why?”
“Please. If I had made any signs of still being prevalent within your ‘goody goody’ psyche. They’d of locked me back up and never given me the chance I have now.”
“They must have fought you off. Why would you have left me at all?”
“God, would you look in the mirror?! You’re me! Me with a tan! There is no Jack Napier within my equation, boyo. You’re a hopeful daydream of the common public. Yes, while they’re are those who still remain weary at your integrity, but countless have breathed a sigh of relief in vain. They think my threat is gone from the city. They’ll find out. They’ll see. No one’s safe from my punchline. Least of all, you.”
“I’ll tell them! How can you keep me from giving out your secret?”
“Right now? I can’t. But enlighten me, Jackie-boy, are you really willing to sacrifice your physical freedom? If you rat me out like the rat you are, it’ll be you the lock up. Not me.”
Jack looked around, frightened.
Joker smiled wryly. “See you around, kiddo. Things to plan.”
Then Jack was all alone. He was left with his thoughts. At least, he hoped they were his.
--
Barbara walked into the kitchen of her house. Her father was sitting at the table reading the paper and drinking his coffee. He had an overly tired look in his eyes.
“Dad, I need to talk to you about your... job offer.”
“Have you decided already, hon?”
“Yeah.”
“And?”
“I can’t do it, Pop.”
Jim let out a disappointed sigh. “Okay, but why not?”
“I- I, I can’t. Its a little complicated.” She breathed out a frustrated sigh. “Screw it. I’ll just show you.” Barbara began unbuttoning her blouse.
Jim got a scared look on his face, “Um, Barb, if you have a tattoo, I’m sure you could just as well tell me about it!!!”
“No, Dad, nothing like that!” She laughed.
As she undid the last button, Jim noticed another layer of black clothing under her top. Black, with some sort of a yellow symbol.
--
Jack Napier was on the roof of the boarding house looking out upon Gotham. The wind whipped through his hair and he looked out on all the nameless faces that the Joker hadn’t gotten to yet. He didn’t want them do die. He didn’t want to be locked up. He didn’t want to have to choose between the two.
“Something on your mind, Mr. Napier?”
Jack spun around and was almost face to face with the Batman. He felt the familiar urge to run and gain distance. He had to convince himself to remember that he was no longer an enemy to this man.
“Just, Just trying to get reacquainted with freedom.”
Jack turned away and looked back over the ledge into the night.
“Freedom from the asylum?”
“Hardly.”
“Problems?”
“Nothing that anyone wouldn’t expect.”
Jack couldn’t bring himself to mention his earlier encounter, outright, to him. He didn’t want to be put away.
“If you need anything. If anything happens. Call the commissioner. He’ll call me.”
“Yes, I know how to get your attention. I know what’s going on around—“
Jack turned around.
“—me.”
Batman wasn’t there.
“I guess he finally got the joke on me.”
--
Tim tossed and turned in his tumultuous sleep. The laughing man came towards him. Worse than death. Fate. No. Please. Junior. No. God. Oh, God. Help.
--
Jim Gordon sat in his den. Barbara had long since explained her situation. Hugged him and then left all over again.
A gust of wind from the direction of the window. Oh Jesus.
“Jim?”
“Yes?”
“I heard about your decision to step down.”
“I know.”
“Don’t do it, Jim. Not yet. This town needs you. I need you.”
“Maybe it does. Maybe this town would crumble without me. But, maybe I have needs. Maybe I need peace of mind. Maybe I want to rest. Maybe I just need a friend, Bruce.”
“How?”
“Barbara. When I asked her why she wouldn’t take the job, she told me. I know everything about the four of you. Three, now. I got the whole story.”
“And?”
“No, dammit, I’m not gonna step down. Not yet. Not until something even worse happens or until I think that this city is safe with Jack Napier on the streets. Not yet.”
“Jim, thank you.”
They embraced. It felt good to know the age-old friendship had not lost its steam.
It felt good.
--
Jack wanted to cry. It was overwhelming. He honestly didn’t know if he could suppress Joker. He wanted to cry. He did cry.
It was unlike any anguish he had ever felt. He felt so selfish. He felt so wrong. He felt so torn.
There was a record player and assorted records donated by his supporters. He grabbed the first one he could find. Something. Anything.
He put the record on and flipped the switch.
Then he broke. His mind silently screamed. He felt his mind going. Joker was resurfacing. He stood to his feet and thrashed about. He clutched his hair and his fingers ran down his face. His laughter began to softly sound.
Then the music began to play.
It was Pachelbel’s Canon (http://www.angelfire.com/weird/JasonS/canon.mid) . In D Major. The music began to flood the room. Beautiful music. Unbelievably outstanding music. Music that was surely conducted by God Almighty, Himself.
Jack didn’t even notice it, but anything of the Joker’s that was surfacing before had long since vanished. All that mattered was the music.
The music.
--
-JS
Bruce was blindfolded. He thrust a batarang forward. 84 yards away, the weapon contacted with and chipped of a stalagmite about 1 foot wide.
“Still got it.”
“Wow. Impressive. You can still do that after all these years, huh?”
He grinned and took off the blindfold.
“It’ll probably go as soon as the gray hair sets in.”
“My, uh, my dad gave me an envelope.”
“Important, I take it?”
“A little. Here.”
Bruce took the letter from her extended hand. His quick and experienced eyes soaked it in.
“Commissioner? Are you going to except?”
“I, I- I, uh don’t think so. I mean what about what I’m doing here?”
“You’d have to choose. I’d respect any decision you’d make, but you’d be sorely missed here. It’d be just me and Tim.”
“I know. I know.”
Bruce started walking away.
“Where are you going?”
“I have a few errands to run tonight.”
--
“How? Why weren’t you there before? In court, why?”
“Please. If I had made any signs of still being prevalent within your ‘goody goody’ psyche. They’d of locked me back up and never given me the chance I have now.”
“They must have fought you off. Why would you have left me at all?”
“God, would you look in the mirror?! You’re me! Me with a tan! There is no Jack Napier within my equation, boyo. You’re a hopeful daydream of the common public. Yes, while they’re are those who still remain weary at your integrity, but countless have breathed a sigh of relief in vain. They think my threat is gone from the city. They’ll find out. They’ll see. No one’s safe from my punchline. Least of all, you.”
“I’ll tell them! How can you keep me from giving out your secret?”
“Right now? I can’t. But enlighten me, Jackie-boy, are you really willing to sacrifice your physical freedom? If you rat me out like the rat you are, it’ll be you the lock up. Not me.”
Jack looked around, frightened.
Joker smiled wryly. “See you around, kiddo. Things to plan.”
Then Jack was all alone. He was left with his thoughts. At least, he hoped they were his.
--
Barbara walked into the kitchen of her house. Her father was sitting at the table reading the paper and drinking his coffee. He had an overly tired look in his eyes.
“Dad, I need to talk to you about your... job offer.”
“Have you decided already, hon?”
“Yeah.”
“And?”
“I can’t do it, Pop.”
Jim let out a disappointed sigh. “Okay, but why not?”
“I- I, I can’t. Its a little complicated.” She breathed out a frustrated sigh. “Screw it. I’ll just show you.” Barbara began unbuttoning her blouse.
Jim got a scared look on his face, “Um, Barb, if you have a tattoo, I’m sure you could just as well tell me about it!!!”
“No, Dad, nothing like that!” She laughed.
As she undid the last button, Jim noticed another layer of black clothing under her top. Black, with some sort of a yellow symbol.
--
Jack Napier was on the roof of the boarding house looking out upon Gotham. The wind whipped through his hair and he looked out on all the nameless faces that the Joker hadn’t gotten to yet. He didn’t want them do die. He didn’t want to be locked up. He didn’t want to have to choose between the two.
“Something on your mind, Mr. Napier?”
Jack spun around and was almost face to face with the Batman. He felt the familiar urge to run and gain distance. He had to convince himself to remember that he was no longer an enemy to this man.
“Just, Just trying to get reacquainted with freedom.”
Jack turned away and looked back over the ledge into the night.
“Freedom from the asylum?”
“Hardly.”
“Problems?”
“Nothing that anyone wouldn’t expect.”
Jack couldn’t bring himself to mention his earlier encounter, outright, to him. He didn’t want to be put away.
“If you need anything. If anything happens. Call the commissioner. He’ll call me.”
“Yes, I know how to get your attention. I know what’s going on around—“
Jack turned around.
“—me.”
Batman wasn’t there.
“I guess he finally got the joke on me.”
--
Tim tossed and turned in his tumultuous sleep. The laughing man came towards him. Worse than death. Fate. No. Please. Junior. No. God. Oh, God. Help.
--
Jim Gordon sat in his den. Barbara had long since explained her situation. Hugged him and then left all over again.
A gust of wind from the direction of the window. Oh Jesus.
“Jim?”
“Yes?”
“I heard about your decision to step down.”
“I know.”
“Don’t do it, Jim. Not yet. This town needs you. I need you.”
“Maybe it does. Maybe this town would crumble without me. But, maybe I have needs. Maybe I need peace of mind. Maybe I want to rest. Maybe I just need a friend, Bruce.”
“How?”
“Barbara. When I asked her why she wouldn’t take the job, she told me. I know everything about the four of you. Three, now. I got the whole story.”
“And?”
“No, dammit, I’m not gonna step down. Not yet. Not until something even worse happens or until I think that this city is safe with Jack Napier on the streets. Not yet.”
“Jim, thank you.”
They embraced. It felt good to know the age-old friendship had not lost its steam.
It felt good.
--
Jack wanted to cry. It was overwhelming. He honestly didn’t know if he could suppress Joker. He wanted to cry. He did cry.
It was unlike any anguish he had ever felt. He felt so selfish. He felt so wrong. He felt so torn.
There was a record player and assorted records donated by his supporters. He grabbed the first one he could find. Something. Anything.
He put the record on and flipped the switch.
Then he broke. His mind silently screamed. He felt his mind going. Joker was resurfacing. He stood to his feet and thrashed about. He clutched his hair and his fingers ran down his face. His laughter began to softly sound.
Then the music began to play.
It was Pachelbel’s Canon (http://www.angelfire.com/weird/JasonS/canon.mid) . In D Major. The music began to flood the room. Beautiful music. Unbelievably outstanding music. Music that was surely conducted by God Almighty, Himself.
Jack didn’t even notice it, but anything of the Joker’s that was surfacing before had long since vanished. All that mattered was the music.
The music.
--
-JS