Disclaimer: I may be on tour at Arkham Asylum, but alas! Did not design it or work with the inmates contained therein. At most poked my head inside to blow kisses.
A Lapse In Judgment
Patient Waylon Jones was only fed once per week in a specialized cell under Arkham. His motives didn't expand far beyond feeding and killing to feed. It was that simple. Really. That simple.
Patient Jonathan Crane, in contrast, was a brilliant former psychiatrist. He graduated from Gotham University with honors, executed ingenious schemes to shatter minds as chosen, and evaded capture through cunning and fortune alone. The Scarecrow relied on agility and chemistry in battle, which was wise given that one could count every rib on his scrawny little torso. Patient Crane was known. Feared. Respected. He had great ambitions with horrific consequences and the means to execute them.
So in theory, releasing copious quantities of toxin into the water supply could have worked. Except Patient Jones was hungry. And Patient Jones had been waiting six goddamn hours for somebody to throw down the goddamn cow so he could just swim and goddamn enjoy himself without thinking of mmmm…meat.
Then (Patient Crane must have reflected) there he was. Straw and bones violating a half-starved crocodile's territory, threatening to fill it with harmful substances while his back lay open to ambush. Equipped with five half-depleted needles against a nine-foot, three hundred pound pseudo-sapient with scales and too many teeth. As the water closed over his head and skin began to split, he wondered.
What part of this had EVER seemed like a good idea?
Author's Note: I do think that BAA's Scarecrow is a badass. I really, really do. An evil lunatic who set tone brilliantly, killed mercilessly, waved syringe fingers PERIOD. And yet… whenever he did his thing, I snickered. Or made silly comments. Because it's like letting the bastard win to show I was suitably impressed. But as soon as he announced his master plot, I knew it was a bad idea. And I knew WHY it was a bad idea. What the hell were you thinking, Jonathan? What the hell were you thinking?