Close the city and tell the people
That something's coming to call
Death and darkness are rushing forward
To take a bite from the wall, oh
-Black Sabbath, "The Mob Rules"

"Who piled up all those desks?" asked the Joker.

Crane blinked. "The verdict has already been decided. This is merely a -"

"I plead guilty."

Crane blinked again. "Of what?"

The Joker tilted his head. "You don't know? You're the judge."

His brow creased under his facepaint.

"Hey, I know you, aren't you...insane? I move for a mistrial on the grounds the judge is a nutjob."

"You would know."

Joker stared at Crane, and made a mental note to do something horrible to his tie later.

"I like the feng shui in here, by the way."

"I'll ask again; death or exile?"

"What kinda court lets the prisoner choose his sentence? You people are crazy!"

"Choose!"

"Revolution."

"We had one already," Crane retorted, a dull ache gathering between his eyebrows.

"A counter-revolution. I don't like this one, send it back. Thisguy" - he pointed at Bane, who looked up from the notes he was making - "he's no fun. I mean, I get his end goal - and I do have to complement you on your showmanship - but he's doing it wrong. If you have to keep forcing people to be free, it's not really freedom now, is it?"

The room went quiet.

"All you really need to do is just get them to the top of the hill, and give them a little push, and they'll roll down on their own."

"Death," Crane said.

"Well, yeah, eventually, but first-"

"The sentence is death."

"Well, if you say so." The Joker stood, thrust out his wrists. "I'm ready for my closeup."

"Dah dah get real high dauh duh in this institution- can I have a word with the warden here for a moment? I promise I won't take up too much of his...valuable time."

The mercenary looked to the masked man, who nodded.

The clown's breath reeked, and his teeth were yellow. How had this man nearly bested Him?

"Good job with the whole Dent thing. I tried to tell 'em, and no one believed me! No idea why."

"We are nothing alike," Bane said, in a voice that was like thunder on the horizon.

"Well, you're taller, and you clearly work out more. But you never gave them a choice, not really. You lock up the cops, you spring thousands of these bad guys and then, and then, you-you-you give them AKs. That's cheating."

Bane's eyes crinkled. "That assumes," he whispered, "my goal is chaos. Gotham must burn. And I will make Him watch"

The Joker tried to figure that one out. It was the first time Bane had ever seen him actually silent. "...Huh. That's...that's actually -" he smiled - "pretty funny."

He grabbed Bane's hand and shook it vigorously.

"I don't actually want to kill him, though. Kill his family, his friends, everyone he cares about, the guy who keeps selling him useless cough drops, sure, but I don't...I don't want to kill him. When he's done with you, I'm next on his dance card."

He let go of Bane's hand, straightened the fuzzy lapels of the larger man's coat. "Want to know how I got these scars?"

"No," said Bane, and leaned forward. "Do you want to know how I got mine?"

The Joker blinked. "Um, okay."

Bane gestured at his guard, and the mercenary laid a hand on Joker's shoulder.

"Just so I'm clear, you're not going to tell me?"

Towards the lower section of the building, there was a small room with no one else in it, filled with furniture the rebels didn't have time to throw out. Joker was in the lead, and halfway through the room he shuffled a little to the left, out of the line of fire of the nearest merc. Funny thing; it also put that guy in the way of the guy behind him.

"Hey?" said Joker, "Wanna see a magic trick?"

"Okay," said the first guy, "sure." He cradled his rifle in his arms in the standard weapon-retention position; one hand on the grip, the other covering the barrel.

"Great. Like I always say, if you gotta go, try to make someone smile on the way out." He stopped and faced his captor. "Look at this."

"Hey! You're not supposed to have that penc -"

THE END