Author's note: Well, here it is. The last chapter of Path of the Jester. I wrote this last chapter first as a resolution to the story and set the conditions for a possible sequel and at the same time to have some fun witht he character of Joker which I love playing with. I admit it is a long chapter, sorry, but I hope that you'll still enjoy it. After all it was written with lots of love for the fans and this story that has followed me for over a year and a half. Now, without not much preamble, enjoy the last chapter of Path of the Jester. Reviews are welcomed. I would love to hear from you all, regarding your thoughts and ideas. Your imput is always appreciated and an honor to hear.

DISCLAIMER 1: Batman and related Characters belong only to DC COMICS

DISCLAIMER 2: There might be some mature language used as well as some mature situations. Reader's are warned

BETA: Like always, one million thanks to the AMAZING KICHI without whose help, this story would have taken a lot longer. I owe you a lot, friend, this one's for you.

PS: This chapter is dedicated to my oversea fans. Thanks for tuning in.

Chapter 50: EPILOGUE

Harley was woken up by the soft voice of Margaret calling at her from behind the acrylic. She turned over the bed to face her and noticed the smile on the officer's face. What could be so happy to make her smile…even here she always kept a façade of seriousness that sometimes was difficult to overlook. This must be something important.

"You need to get ready, Harley."

"Marge…if I'm to go to another session with Dr. Maratti I'm not interested."

"You don't have a session with Maratti. The hospital board wants to have a talk with you."

"The board?" Harley squeaked in surprise. Oh God, this was worse than she expected. They were probably going to charge her one hundred more years to her sentence for her escape…maybe even physical punishment. What would they do to her now? No, she didn't want to be part of that. She went back to bed and turned away from the door. "Tell 'em I'm sick…"

"Can't do, Harley. They want to start the meeting in fifteen minutes so don't make them wait. This could be your chance to complain about Maratti…maybe they can change your psychiatrist…"

Harley sat on her bed and looked at the correctional officer. She suddenly realized that she was right. If the board wanted her, the board will have her no matter what. Maybe if she whined long enough they will feel pity and get her off Maratti's list. The man was a horrible doctor and she didn't like his cheap cologne. She sat on the edge of the bed.

"OK…OK. Just give me a minute, will ya?"

Margaret came closer to the acrylic and looked around as if not wanted to be seen this close to the inmate. She closed on one of the door's breathing holes.

"I'm very proud of you. " Margaret whispered to the door.

"What?" Harley asked looking at the correction officer with some confusion sparkling in her eyes.

"What you did for those people…and the Commissioner. It was very brave." Margaret looked beside her when she heard footsteps. She backed off from the cell with a large smile on her face. "Have to go now. I will be back in five minutes, OK?"

Harley nodded without uttering a single word as Margaret walked towards the ward's security station. It had been the first time someone told her how proud of her they were. She never remember either Joker or her mother telling her that. Harley got up and looked at herself in the small mirror bolted to the wall. She let her hair down and grabbing a brush, she started to comb it in long rhythmic strokes. It was time to face her destiny, all by herself.

oooooooooooooooooooooooo

Batman had arrived early to the Asylum. He wanted to make sure he was present for the board hearings for both Harley and Joker. Harley was having her hearing and the federal government wanted the immediate transfer of Joker to their custody in order to proceed with the federal charges he now faced after his last deadly spree. Batman knew he probably couldn't stop the transfer, but at least he could help proving how broken Joker's psyche really was. That might just work on his side and he knew exactly who to contact to help him with that task. Dr. Jeremiah Arkham.

Being the Joker's personal psychiatrist had allowed him to deal closely with the Clown's insane behavior and if he played his cards right, the doctor could help him. Of course helping the Jester was not in the doctor's agenda, but Batman made it very clear that if Joker was transferred away, Arkham would lose all the he had acquired. That meant no more book deals, awards, or TV appearances along with the cash flow that represented. It was too much to lose and Arkham knew what he had to do…keep Joker insane and make sure he alone was considered an indispensable part of the rehabilitation process…

It was close to nine o'clock when Joker arrived to the meeting room where twelve doctors had already settled down at a large desk. Many of them were enjoying a cup of coffee, tea or cocoa along with some biscuits. The Jester walked slowly, with a marked limp on his left leg, a painful remnant of his last escape. He was wearing the typical bright orange hospital jumpers and white rubber-soled shoes. His green curly hair was as wild as ever, with some of it falling over his forehead. On top of the jumper, a black harness restrained his arms close towards his body while his hands where chained with a double set of shackles each, attached to a chain that served as a belt.

They were not lowering their guard for the clown, especially knowing how resourceful the Joker could become with his escapes. The harness Joker was wearing had two chains attached to each side and each chain was held by a security officer. The officers made the Joker sit in the chair set for him the middle of the hearing and locked the chains to bolts on the floor. The Jester glared at the guards that stood at each side.

Each doctor greeted Joker in a polite manner, while the Clown stared silently at the dozen of specialists. Though he looked annoyed, the Joker was unusually calmed today. The carved smile was thin and small, and there was nothing in his green eyes but a sleepy haze. Could the Joker be sedated? The Clown had developed a high degree of tolerance to sedatives throughout the years, but maybe the hospital was able to make him sleepy enough today to keep him calmed. Could this be a tactic of the federals to give the appearance that a calmer Joker was a saner Joker? This could be one interesting hearing, and if the feds had arranged this, an uphill battle to demonstrate that the Clown was better at Arkham.

The psychiatrist rose from his chair and addressed the table of doctors with a polite bow.

"Good morning, dear colleagues. I am Doctor Jeremiah Arkham and the Joker has been one of my patients for the last six years. I'd like to be allowed the opportunity to open the round of questioning this morning." Arkham said staring at Joker who just yawned loudly. The board of doctors conferred briefly amongst themselves and finally gave a nod of approval to the psychiatrist to start the meeting. Arkham nodded politely and walked over to the Jester who seemed to be far away from the hearing, with his eyes half closed hardly focusing on anything. "How are you feeling today, Mr. Joker?"

The Clown Prince eyed the approaching doctor without much interest. He cocked his head sideways to attend to an itch on his right cheek then yawned again.

"I'm not talking until I get here…" Joker said with another noisy yawn. The doctors at the table started to murmur amongst themselves. Some of them laughed.

"…Until you get here? I don't seem to follow you."

"Why do you want to follow me…? Joker protested. "Do you know where I'm going? I don't think you do. And if neither of us know where we are heading, which means we're both lost. So unless you have a map back to the Emerald City, I suggest you back off, because I don't plan on moving from here until I know where I am heading at this precise moment and for that I need to meet with myself first so let me know when I get here, OK?"

"What I mean is…oh forget it." The doctor rubbed his pointy chin and sighed. Batman noted a hint of a smile on Dr. Arkham's face. "Do you have any idea where you are and why you have been summoned here?"

"Oh…I know. I'm in hell and you want to bore me through all eternity." Joker said following his words with another yawn. "You are so obsessed with me that it wasn't enough to have two sessions a week with the Clown. You have to sneak into hell and keep trying to probe my head again. Come 'ere Jeremy," the Joker demanded leaning forward when he was restrained by the two guards beside him."I just wanna return your favor and probe yours for a while, so you know how it feels. I'm sure there is a lot in there you don't need and I can have fun with."

"There is no need to keep this belligerent tone with the board, Mr. Joker. We only want to have a little chat with you, that's all." Arkham explained trying to sound amicable.

Joker reclined back into his chair calmly and the guard finally released the hold on him. "My bad, doc. Don't like strange people following me, when I can follow myself around just as well. My apologies to the board, but it's just that though it may look like I'm here, I'm really still on my bed…dreaming. Had a long busy night last night with all the preparations, see? When my mind wakes up in another half hour or so and meets me here…we can chit-chat all you want. Sorry, but I don't fetch anything before 10 am. Bye."

There was more murmuring from the doctors at the table. One or two of them even chuckled. Joker glared at them resentfully as Arkham interloped the Clown again.

"Sorry, Mr. Joker, I know it's kind of early, but we need to go on with the hearing. Maybe a little coffee will help?" The psychiatrist said taking a sip of his own cup of coffee.

"You know that coffee makes me jittery, doc. Tea usually does the trick, but today I'll have to pass…health concerns, you see?" Joker turned to the board of doctors. "All of you enjoying your tea back there? Good. I made it especially for you last night. My own secret tea recipe…or did I make the coffee?" The Jester leaned over until he almost touched his knees with his forehead. "Damn, I forgot…I knew I shouldn't have stayed up so late in the kitchen."

One of the psychiatrists looked at her cup when her eyes rolled to the back of her head as she fell unconsciously to the floor. All the psychiatrists that had been drinking either coffee or tea spitted a mouthful of the elixir and backed off from their cups gagging and coughing. Two more doctors in the group fainted. Security officers picked up all the cups and saucers as well as tea pots and coffee pitchers and removed them from the room in a hurry. Joker busted in a frenzied laughter. The high pitched chortles made everybody's hair rise on end.

"I think…I think we need to make a recess" Dr. Arkham let out touching his middle section. He thought of the cup of coffee he drank that morning… was it his first or his second? "I recommend half an hour…just to…just to be safe."

"That is not going to be enough time…but heck what do I know? I'm just enjoying the show from here and half an hour is enough time to die." Joker spat between chortles.

"Take him…take him away to the holding cell." Dr. Arkham ordered when two of the board member left the room in a hurry. The psychiatrist grabbed his midsection again.

The room quickly emptied and the four guards in charge of Joker disengaged the chains and started to pull on him out of the room. The Jester, still giggling, turned around to look at the one way glass as if he knew that the Batman was standing behind it. The Detective wondered if the Clown Prince knew he was here…and if he could somehow see him though the glass. The Jester gave a polite bow to the glass, and started laughing again as he left the room.

'Way to go Joker…you really know how to make a first impression," Batman thought as he saw the Joker disappear out the door. The Detective saw Commissioner Gordon came walking aided by crutches down the hall to meet him.

"This is going to take a while." Gordon said scratching the nape of his neck "They are taking the beverages to the laboratory for analysis and all the psychiatrists have requested medical attention. Security is sure he didn't get out last night but they can't account for thirty minutes of video surveillance from his cell. I guess I'm lucky I didn't have any coffee yet… "

"With Joker's reputation I wouldn't play around." Batman responded. "It would not be his first mass poisoning."

"This is going to take a while. We can start with Harley's meeting upstairs…what you think?"

Oooooooooooooooooooooooo

Harley sat nervously behind a long desk. Her legs danced restlessly as she tried to find a comfortable position. The truth was that she was close to hysterical, not knowing what was going to happen, but imagining multiple scenarios in her mind that always ended in her with a few thousand years in prison and one thousand lashes of the whip…she was getting too far ahead of herself.

Beside her sat Margaret, the officer that had always been at her side, just to watch over her. On the left hand side Mary Ann Lowes, Harley's lawyer, was reading some notes before the meeting started. In front of them a group of five psychiatrists sat reading their notes. Lowes, noting Harley's agitation, put a hand over the lady Clown's shoulder to reassure her.

"Calm down, Harleen. Everything is going to be fine. I promise. Just be yourself."

"Why couldn't they just tell me they will increase my sentence another hundred years instead of having me go through this…?"

"Sentencing? Nobody is getting sentenced today, Ms. Quinn. Did anybody tell you what this is meeting for?"

Harley shook her head silently. Lowes was about to explain when Dr. Gallagher, the head of psychiatrists from the Asylum's board, demanded attention. The lawyer patted Harley on her shoulder and turned to the medical board.

"Ladies and gentlemen, please, seat down. We are about to start. Is everybody here?" Dr. Gallagher initiated the meeting.

"Yes, the defense is here, Dr. Gallagher." Lowes responded at the same times Batman and Gordon entered the room. Harley was surprised to see both of them wanting to be part of this meeting. The Detective and Commissioner sat on the back of the room.

"Good, let's start then." Gallagher read the file in front of him for a moment then look at Harley attentively. She just lowered her gaze. "Good morning, Ms. Quinzel and please, let me start by apologizing. The board was supposed to have full representation in this hearing, but some of them are being treated by medical personnel after the poison tea incident this morning. In the meantime we are going to conduct this hearing with the minimal amount of psychiatrists required by law which is four. Let me introduce you to Dr. Hamilton, Figueroa, and Miles and also accompanying us today is Counselor Thomson."

Harley looked up at Dr. Gallagher, then to the small group of doctors that watched her

"Well, Ms. Quinzel, what do you think of what Joker just did to the board with the poisoned tea?" Gallagher asked grabbing a pencil firmly in his hand ready to make notes.

She smiled timidly, as she imagined the face of horror of the rest of the board when Joker announced he had poisoned the tea. Her puddin' seemed to have recovered his humor…"Kind of wild…but then he's always been like that. He loved to scare people to death, literally. Kill them for fun."

"And in your opinion, is that right or wrong?"

"What kind of hearing is this?" Harley inquired focusing on the table of specialists.

"Ms. Quinzel. This meeting has been called by Commissioner Gordon to analyze your behavior and see if you qualify for a reduction in sentence. It has come to our attention that you saved the Commissioner from the Joker, risking your own life, and that you challenged the madman in a roof top to protect an innocent family."

Harley was left with her mouth opened wide. This was definitely not what she was expecting. She scanned the room with her eyes until she found Gordon and the Batman on the back. The expression on the face of the Detective was stern and severe and like always she couldn't tell if he was happy, sad or just constipated, but she could notice a subtle smile on the Commissioner's face.

"Ms Quinzel?" Gallagher called to her. Harley looked back at the psychiatrist. "Well? Is the information we have true?"

"Uhmm...yeah?"

"Why did you do it…?"

"Because it was wrong…" Harley responded timidly. She wasn't too sure as to how Gordon wanted her to respond to that. Then she remembered Margaret's words 'I'm very proud of you…'

"What was wrong…what you did was wrong?"

Harley shook her head. "No…what Jokie…hm, Joker did was wrong."

"In the past you have been cited as saying that the Joker was a funny clown even when he murdered someone. And you never said that that anything he did was wrong. Why the sudden change in mind, Ms. Quinzel?

"Because he was not Joker. Don't you see? The Joker is a Clown who finds humor in murder. What he was doing to Gordy…hmm…Gordon and that family was not funny. It was mean."

"What do you mean when you say he was not Joker?"

"He…he had…" Harley looked at Gordon again and saw him nod. Batman nodded at her again. This is what they wanted to hear. "He had somehow brought back a side of him that was sinister, darker, and meaner. He was just hurting people, not trying to be funny."

"So you're saying that hurting people is OK as long as it is funny?"

"No…Practical joking is fun…but when people start to suffer, it stops being funny."

"And…?"

"And it's wrong to make others suffer."

"So what Joker does…is right or wrong, Ms Quinzel...?"

Harley had to pause for a moment to catch her breath. Her heart was racing at the speed of sound and she felt her mind running as fast. The question was simple as what the answer, so why did she hesitate? She couldn't help thinking that she was somehow betraying the trust of the Joker by speaking in this hearing. Tough luck, Harley, she thought to herself, but this is your chance to be you, dear.

"Wrong." She answered simply lowering her gaze.

"You don't seem to be too convinced…"

"I can't…help to feel guilty. I once tried to make Joker understand the wrongdoing of his actions and instead I let myself being seduced by his charm. He was funny sometimes, but most of the time, he was just a meanie."

"So you agree that he had used you…?"

"You kiddin'? Joker uses everybody around him. You, me, them," Harley quipped motioning to the audience. "People are just toys he plays with and when he gets tired of the toy, he just destroys it. Some people are ok with being used…up to a point and because of…very…private reasons."

"But you once said you were in love with him. Was he really using you, or did you join him of your own accord?"

"That's…" Harley's eyes narrowed angrily and started to hyperventilate. Tears pooled under her eyes "…not open to discussion."

Lowes leaned over Harley. "Please, calm down…"

She looked at her lawyer with the same resentment she had stared at the board of specialists. "No! I'm not calming down. That I love him or not is not important to this hearing, is it?"

"It is important that we understand your emotions towards the Joker, Ms. Quinzel."

"Did Eva Braun love Hitler any less than a mistress loves her man? Does that change the fact that the guy was a sociopath and a murderer and does that make her a psycho too?" Harley held his hands to his mouth and sank deeper in her chair, overwhelmed by the outburst. Dr. Kratz was taken aback by the historical reference while members of the specialist panel started to comment amongst themselves. Harley on her part leaned over the desk and cradled her head between her hands. Her lawyer spoke softly to her ears and tears started to flow down her face. "Sorry…I don't know what came over me…I'm really, really sorry." She finally said apologetically after Lowes murmured something in the ear.

"It's alright, Ms Quinzel. You made a very valid point." Kratz ordered silence at the group of specialists. "But how do you feel for the Joker?"

"I…I feel sorry for him. I feel sorry that he has to be angry all the time. I'm sorry he does what he does. I would like to see him cured…I want him to be happy… I want 'im to understand…"

"Understand what? That you love him?" Dr. Gallagher asked leaning forward on the table to take a closer look. "Are you in love with him, Ms. Quinzel?"

"I…I guess I am."

oooooooooooooooooooooooo

It was early afternoon when the psychiatrists had started to return to the hearing room where they were dealing with the Joker's case. Of the board of specialists assigned to the Jester two of the doctors had been rushed to the hospital with complaints of stomach ache and chest pains.

The whole investigation, had taken a little more than five hours to arrive to the conclusion that Joker was just bluffing that morning. No toxins were found in either the coffee or the tea. Apparently, the Jester had had the last laugh. They brought the Clown Prince forward again. The Jester was sporting a very large smug smile of self satisfaction in his face. Even in chains he looked intimidating.

Dr. Arkham took a bottle of water from a nearby cooler in the room and after opening it, he took a refreshing sip. There is no way the Joker could've poison these, right? He thought as he noted that the Clown Prince was staring at the water bottle with great interest, almost as if he knew what the doctor was thinking. Arkham stopped drinking, put the cap back on, and set the bottle as far away from the Joker as he could. Those green eyes of the Clown seemed to want to pierce right through the psychiatrist.

"It's time to go on with this hearing." Arkham said advancing towards the smiling Clown. "We wasted precious time this morning…"

"Yes, mine. But I agree…the show must go on. So tell me Dr. A, have you always being this boring or is it the result of having being dropped as a baby…?" Joker said with a large joyful smile

"You seem very proud after all the chaos you produced this morning…"

"Oh yes…I have not laughed like that in a long time. You should have seen the color on your face after I said I had prepared the beverages…."

"What did you feel when you scared us half to death with the poisoned coffee and tea, Mr. Joker?"

"Amusement, and may I remind you that I never said poisoned? I just said I had prepared it. What if I had just added some hazelnut or cinnamon?" The Jester responded with a wide toothy grin.

"I doubt you would've just added hazelnut." Arkam said with a cynical smile. "Hmmm. Still you don't seem to be completely happy with the outcome. Am I right?"

"To be sincere, I would've enjoyed it more if I would've found some cyanide to actually put in the coffee, but for some strange reason this hospital keeps all its chemicals under lock and key. Next time I will bring my own…"

"I see…" Arkham brushed his brow nervously. He knew this was just not an insane ranting. When the Jester made a threat, he normally had to be taken seriously and Joker had probably tried to find a way to poison that tea, but just couldn't get his plan to completion. Playing with this Clown could be dangerously lethal.

"Now you can imagine that poisoned coffee would have been a riot, right? But NO…nobody died today and I'm still stuck with you. It's a sad day for comedy. Show's over, you leaving now?" The Jester said with a sneer.

"Hmmm, you don't sound too happy. When was the last time you recall being happy, Mr. Joker…?" Arkham continued digging deeper into Joker's emotions. The Jester pondered silently on the question and a sinister smile crossed his face.

"Who said I'm not happy? Can't you see the smile carved in my face? I'm in a permanent state of bliss."

Arkham paced calmly in front of the Jester. "I've always stated that your smile is not a reflection of what you feel inside, Joker. Instead, what you feel is totally opposite than what your face represents. But there have to have been a moment when you could say that you were really happy. Do you recall when that was?"

"I remember. I had just killed a young bird…that made me happy, but what really made my day was when I met the bird's daddy and he found out what I have done. Ohh, he was not happy and it makes me smile in my darkest day and my darkest…Knight." Joker let out looking at the one way glass to his right as he busted into a grave cackle. Behind the one way glass, the Dark Knight clenched his fists under his cape. "My greatest accomplishment and it wasn't even Robin season…"
"I'm assuming you are referring to Batman's young partner." The Jester nodded silently. "So killing a boy made you happy…"

"Not just a boy…THAT BOY. You don't know how annoying the kid was, I really was making a service to humanity by getting rid of the little pest. It made everybody who had the misadventure of knowing him extremely happy when they heard the news of his demise. No whiney brat for the Dark Molester anymore." Joker leaned forward on his seat. "Do you know the joyful experience it is to inflict pain to the deepest core of a man that thinks he's impervious to the evil and corruption of this city? That is proof that everything follows a path that leads to our common end…entropy. He is not immune to chaos. He brings chaos along with him as I carry my shadow in a sunny day."

Arkham was taken aback by the statement, which was filled with a lot of acid resentment. "So you don't think you were doing anything wrong by killing a child."

"Not THAT child, believe me. And just for the record, I don't like killing children, because they don't understand what goes on. Adults on the other hand…can be tortured with a great delight. And they can scream louder than anything you can imagine if you do it right. It's like listening to a choir...in stereo surround sound. And if you're really good, you can make everybody scream in key. Then it's just a masterpiece of perfect pitch and harmony…like listening to Beethoven's Fifth…or Vivaldi's Sounds of Springs. You get me doc?"

Arkham made a note on his notebook and looked at the rest of the specialists in the room. They all were staring at the Jester with amazement. They couldn't believe the detachment with which he spoke about murder. The psychiatrist couldn't help but to smile.

"As you can see, gentlemen, the patient lacks the ability to discern right from wrong and has no feeling of remorse for his deeds. It is a clear case of sociopathic psychosis…with schizoid undertones that murder is a joke. Basically he lives the fantasy, that murder is somehow funny…"

"I beg to differ…" Joker interrupted Arkham in his dissertation while rattling on his chains. "And it is extremely rude to try to charge me with a psychosis when it is you and your staff who should be locked in a padded cell, instead of me."

"Excuse me?" Doctor Arkham said turning angrily to the Clown Prince.

"You heard me. You want to lock me out for being me. An original, slightly morbid comedian who gets his giggles from seeing people die. There is nothing wrong with seeing people die. People die every day and death…is always funny when it happens to you and not me. Now…who's fantasizing?"

"But you murder to obtain the same satisfaction, Mr. Joker. Don't you understand the difference?" One of the doctors in the board questioned the Clown.

"Murder is a form of dying, gentlemen. A means to an end. Why blame the comedian if he wants to get to the punch line before he finishes the joke."

"You think murder is a joke…"

"No, your lives are all a joke. Murder is the culmination of the joke. The final punch line to a totally senseless existence. Take for instance…rules. Your lives are so full of them that life loses its sense only to become a grocery list. Do this, do that, don't do that, don't do this. I don't live by any rules, because rules only turn you into a boring nincompoop. I'm more than the sum of my parts. Oh, and don't tell me you've never wanted to murder anybody or watched TV and asked yourself how could people that stupid are still staining our gene pool. You're just too scared to act upon your feelings. Not me. If I think you should die…you'll be dead before lunch.

"I kill the boring, stupid, and useless human beings that inhabit this city and turn them into a piece of art with a memorable demise. Their worthless lives become for one moment the glorification of the chaos we all live in. Because no matter how many rules you make or how many plans you try to make, on the end…none of it matters. All the corpses look and smell the same in the dark, gentlemen. You are deluding yourselves of the real sense of this existence…which is that nothing ever makes sense…except death, and that is hilarious. Only a madman would not see it that way…"

Arkham stared intensely at the Clown Prince of Crime, and then turned on his heels and walked towards his seat at the board table. "Gentlemen…I rest my case."

Dr. Edgar Folsom, who acted as moderator of the board, sifted though his large file and motioned to a slim, young spectacled doctor with a narrow hooked nose that walked over to meet the Jester. The psychiatrist wore nicely pressed white coat and smelled strongly of fresh aftershave lotion. He wondered if the guy bathed on the stuff as he wrinkled his nose.

"Good morning, signore Joker." The doctor said politely in a thick Italian accent as he pulled a pen from his suit. "I am Dr. Francetti and would like to ask you a few questions if you don't mind?"

"Ah. Buongiorno, come sta dottore? (Good morning, how are you doctor?)

Dr. Francetti arranged his glasses as he looked at the Joker. He immediately started to sift through his notes. There was nothing in the Jester's file that said he could speak more than one language.

"Inespettato…parli Italiano signore Joker? (It's unexpected….Do you speak Italian, Mr. Joker?)

"Sorpresa! Puoi scomneterci…(Surprise! You can bet on it…) It's the beautiful language of Micheangelo, DaVinci, Al Capone, Gotti, and the Godfather." The Jester sighed. "So many beautiful ways to say…murder."

"Okay," Francetti said adjusting his glasses. "But let's stay in the English language. I'm sure the rest of the board would like to join in our conversation."

"You look like a guy who could take a joke…would you like to hear a joke?"

"We have an agenda to follow…"

"There you go again…rules. One quick joke, just to brighten the day…please?" The Joker pleaded with an almost childish insistence. Francetti motioned to the Jester to go on with the joke. The Clown Prince giggled softly and cleared his throat. 'A man in a restaurant asks a waiter: "How do you prepare your chicken?' The waiter replies, 'Nothing special, we just straight-up tell 'em they're going to die.'"

Nobody in the room laughed, but Joker was trying very hard not to burst into laughter. Francetti looked at the Joker not knowing how to react. "I don't see the humor in that joke…"

"You do if you think this is the restaurant, I'm the waiter and you are the chicken. And you are going to die…you'll see." Joker started to laugh loudly.

"ENOUGH!" Folsom yelled from his seat. "I'm not going to tolerate you threatening the staff, Mr. Joker."

"Zut alors! I 'ave miss one." The Clown Prince quipped in a fake French accent while staring at Folsom. "Heeere chickin', chickin', chickin'. I'll kill you too after I'm done with the Chicken Alfredo here…"

"I SAID ENOUGH!!" Folsom rose angrily from his chair.

"It's a matter of point of view, really. Life would be a lot easier if you just saw things from my point of view. Then you will understand why it is that you all have to die…"

"Let's change the subject, eh?" Dr. Francetti said waving to the Jester to get his attention.

"Chicken…."The Clown responded with a cackle.

Francetti cleared his throat "Do you have a name, Signore Joker…?"

"What kind of question is that? In case you have not noticed, you're calling me by my name, dottore…"

"A name OTHER than Joker…"

The Jester thought deeply for a moment. "It depends on who you talk to and the day of the week you ask. I call myself a lot of things to keep life interesting, but some of my enemies can get pretty fancy with those."

"Does the name Jack sound familiar?"

"No…but Larry Wilde is. I remember him well…Very intelligent lawyer graduated Magna Cum Laude from Harvard University. Top of his class…"

"Signore Joker, this…Larry Wilde was not a real person. It was someone you impersonated to get access to the Asylum…"

"You sure…? I'd swear it was someone I met…and killed." Joker shrugged. "Oh well…"

"I have reports of you calling yourself Jack and taking about a dead wife and kid…" Joker remained silent staring at Francetti with some hatred. "Do you remember ever being married…?

"Today is Thursday," The Jester said when his frown quickly changed to a smile. "Ask me on Tuesdays…."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Francetti said eyeing the Jester from above his glasses.

"That is the day of the week I like to be the man who lost his family and couldn't take it anymore. But if you ask me today, I will tell you that I feel like the Clown who lost his call in the Ringling Brothers… This is my happy Clown day, and the reason you still breathe when I make a joke. On the weekends…I'm open to psychoses so I just improvise. It all depends on the mood, really…"

"You realize how irrational is what you're saying, eh Mr. Joker?

"Irrational…? Just because I prefer a life with multiple choices doesn't mean I'm irrational, though I have to admit that I'm a little unconventional…a genius of sorts. You're just jealous. Wouldn't you wish you could be someone else every day of the week…?

"Joker, you are who you are every day of your life…there is no multiple choices. You can't just change the way you perceive yourself every day of the week."

"Yes I can. I'm the living proof of it. I was someone else once, then took a swim in your local vat of chemicals and voila…Instant Joker. And the guy I was supposed to be…not even in the obituaries. See? It…keeps my life interesting. Why would I want to be so narrow minded and just be the same boring guy every day, like you? That's crazy. You sure you're locking away the right lunatic?"

Francetti jotted some notes on his small notebook and continued his interrogatory. Every question received and even weirder response. Not straight answer, just an insane rant and an illogical analysis of what was being asked. After thirty minutes, Francetti realized he was not getting anywhere and finished his turn. Another doctor took his place. The man was short and his belly bulged over a pair of brown pants. He wore a small green sleeveless sweater over a cream colored shirt with colorful stripes. His head was a wild mess of peppered curls and under his chin, a timid green bowtie with yellow polka-dots completed the strange apparel. Joker stared at the doctor with bright green eyes and laughed.

"What is so funny?" asked the doctor who was obviously at a loss.

"You and I must go to the same tailor…but unlike you, I make green look good." The Jester answered with a cackle.

The doctor ignored the comment and started to question the Jester about the people who had inspired him the most. The list started with Jack the Ripper and ended with Charles Manson, with Daffy Duck, Tom and Jerry and Little Lulu scattered somewhere in the middle. The doctor proceeded to ask him about his relationship with his father. Joker for the first time frowned as if he despised the subject altogether. His eyes glowed with a wild green fire that threatened to consume everything. Then as suddenly as the anger was there, Joker smile wide and complacently and his eyes glinted of joy.

"Why don't you ask him?" The Clown Prince finally said.

"Is your father still live? Where is he now…?" The doctor asked with great interest. Even Dr. Arkham was extremely intrigued by the revelation, which he had never been able to obtain in his sessions.

The Jester jerked his head towards the one way glass in the right side of room. "He's right over there, hiding from the light. You'll recognize him by the dark cape and the pointy ears."

Everybody stopped what they were doing to look and listen to the Joker. "You mean to tell me that the Batman is your father?"

The Jester nodded. "He is the reason I exist and he has given me more attention than my father ever did, so yeah, I'm saying just that. He just never signed the papers so he wouldn't pay the child support," Joker laughed heartedly. "He is indeed the father of chaos and I hate to brag but I think I'm definitely his favorite son…right daddy?" Joker said the last words so loud to make sure he was heard over the low rumble that had started in the room.

"Just curious…if you say the Batman is your father…who would you say is your mother?"

"A hot vat of chemicals. Not much of a chatter herself but she had a very bubbly personality. I get my murderous humor from her. Nothing better than to meet death face to face to see the beauty in her face. Then is just like an addiction to reproduce such a beautiful face…"

A fourth doctor started his turn as he took out a series of Rorschach cards and asked the Jester what he saw. The first inkblot took a few seconds for the Joker to analyze from every angle.

"A bat." The Clown Prince finally said. The doctor continued presenting the ink-blotted cards to the Jester obtaining the same answer. After the tenth card, the doctor stopped the test.

"You seem to have an obsession with bats, Mr. Joker."

"Everybody here thinks I'm batty…what did you expect me to see?" Joker quipped laughing hysterically.

Bruce observed attentively, from behind the glass, every word that the Joker was saying and his body language that confirmed how disturbed the Jester really was. In his little mind, fact and fiction collided to produce an explosion of chaos and confusion that was starting to make the specialists uneasy. Jack had turned to Joker to take his pain away, and the Clown had taken the tortured man into the farthest reaches of his madness. A place where he knew Jack would not be able to escape again. The man that Joker had been was no longer in sight and the Clown had turned this hearings into a circus where he was having the best, most twisted laughs at the doctor's expense.

Two more days of interrogatory followed the first with the same pattern repeating itself. More tests were performed on the Jester…some of them revealing an extraordinary intellectual potential, but many others confirmed how impaired was his ability to distinguish between real and unreal, between good and evil. For Joker it was OK to kill what was not funny, because that was a service to society, and he couldn't understand why being a bore was not a crime punishable with death.

The three days of interrogatory were completed when the entire board of specialists got away to deliberate on their decision if the Joker was sane enough to be held responsible of his actions or not, Bruce didn't need much effort to guess the decision of the panel. Batman thought he would be helping the Joker go through the investigation to avoid falling into the claws of the Federal government, but the Joker was doing a great job by himself. The only question that remained to be answered was what the government would do with a certified lunatic.

oooooooooooooooooooooooo

It had been two days since the hearings when Gordon finally called him back into the station. That night the Bat signal glowed brightly in the night sky and it wasn't long before the Batman landed on the rooftop of the Police department. The roof was empty except for Gordon that sat calmly on a chair, lighting a cigarette. Beside him, his crutches rested against the brick ledge of the building.

"Came as soon as I saw the signal." Batman said trying to break the silence. "I'm guessing the boards of specialists finally decided?"

"Yeah," the Commissioner said massaging his moustache."And guess what? We get to keep the Clown."

"I imagined that after the Joker's erratic behavior during the hearings, the government will be reluctant to take custody. The Feds are not ready to deal with someone like Joker."

"No, they don't want to touch him even with ten feet pole. And that makes you very happy, I bet." Gordon let out with marked resentment.

"Jim…Joker is insane. Joker was doing a great job showing off his psychoses… without help from me."

"You didn't want him to go with the federals…"

"Because the federals were not interested in giving Joker what he needed. They wanted to dispose of Joker, like they have with any other terrorist, not lock him on another psychiatric institution to get help."

"It's not like he doesn't deserve it, you know?"

"But it would not be justice. He can't help who he is…he's crazy."

"Yeah, I guess you're right." Gordon responded grabbing his crutches and with some effort standing up to walk up and turn off the reflector. "I was just hoping that for once I will be able to wake up in the morning and not have to call the Asylum to make sure that he was still there. I do that almost every day. The last spree was very large…and I can't believe he is not going to pay for any of those lives…"

"He is paying on a very private way. He's living in torment inside his mind, a personal hell. Living like that is not a life."

"Not enough in my book, but the federals want to make sure he stays in the asylum this time. They're assigning almost fifty million dollars to increase security around Joker and the rest of the hospital. They want twenty-four hour surveillance on the Clown and weekly report in his activities. The Governor even wants to have another ring of security just by the Joker's cell."

"That is…surprising." Batman said gloomily. "The Governor normally acts as if the Joker doesn't exist."

"Well, this time he is doing something and Mayor Stratton is supporting the security measures. He's going to personally enforce them. I guess we have to thank it's an election year."

"Maybe it will be a little more difficult for Joker to get out this time..."

"I'm hoping, but that is just wishful thinking…the clown will remain a thorn in our side. At least we seem close to Garibaldi and without Joker around him, he can't be that hard to get."

"What about Harley…?"

"They are going to give her sixty days to run several tests and go through some psychological evaluation and counseling. After that, the board will decide, but she made a very good impression on the board at the hearing, especially when she was able to speak of her feelings for him in a detached way. Maybe she is not lost…"

"Thanks…"

Gordon took a puff of his cigarette. "For what?"

"For giving her a chance."

"Look, I don't want to look like the bad guy here, but you know she had gotten herself in deep trouble because of the Clown. I just have to accept that sometime, people…can change, while others will stay the same."

"Like Joker…"

"Yeah, like Joker, Cobblepot, Dent, Nigma and a lot others." The Commissioner flicked the ash from his smoke as he stood with some effort aided by his crutches. "But as long as I have an ounce of life in me...this city is going to be safe. That is the promise I made when I became its Commissioner and I intend to keep it."

"And you can count on us to be beside you…even when the fight gets tough."

Gordon flicked the smoke away and stepped on it as he eyed the Detective with a smile. "That was not in doubt even for a second. You're one of the good guys. Now. Don't you have a city to patrol?"

Batman nodded and retrieved the grapple from his utility belt. He walked to the ledge and fired the hook that embedded solidly in a nearby building. The detective tested the strength of the cable until he was satisfied it will support his weight.

"Take care Jim." The Knight said jumping into the night.

Gordon steadied himself on his crutches and started to make his way back into the building. "You too, my friend."

FIN

Hold on...Blip still at large? That could not be good, right? Maybe he's up to something nasty. After all, he and Joker were always very close that Garibaldi could be as dangerous as the Clown. What happened next is considered in a pseudo sequel to this. I say it's a pseuso-sequel because though it starts where this one ended, the plot is different, and the story is a lot faster and much more complicated. While Jester was my first try at writing, I have learned a lot in a year and a half about the craft and the continuation of this story is a promise of more action, more mystery, more characters and more mature writing. Please let me know if you would like to know what happened after Jester. It will be a pleasure to share it with you all. We'll this one has been a fun trip, thanks for joining me in this ride. Lots of love....Jokerlady.