An Arkham Christmas Carol

On the 20th of December, Jonathan Crane awoke in high spirits. True, he was presently confined in a high security mental asylum for the criminally insane, and true also that he was in no position to be freed from it anytime soon, but what did that matter? It was the official start of Christmas for him today, since it was the start of his yearly Christmas tradition – reading Charles Dickens's novella A Christmas Carol, one chapter a day, until Christmas.

Crane didn't broadly agree with the message of A Christmas Carol. Being kind and considerate towards one's fellow man was all very well in theory, but when one's fellow man were a bunch of cruel, selfish, bullying cowards, it was more difficult to put the idea into practice. But Crane enjoyed Dickens's prose – he always had done, from an early age, and he enjoyed the nostalgia of a simpler time, and he enjoyed the idea that no matter how miserable a man and his life might be, that they can be changed, no matter how old a man was. Through divine intervention in the story's case, of which Crane was not a believer, but never mind that. It was a story that always lifted his spirits and profoundly moved him no matter how many times he read it, and that was certainly something to be excited about. Especially since this year, he had a willing listener who had never heard the story before.

"Good morning, my precious," he said, stroking his pet raven Lenore, who was perched next to his bed. She cooed happily, opening her black eyes and chirping in greeting, nuzzling against his finger.

"Today is a very special day for you, my beauty," he said, dressing hastily and then holding out his arm for her to fly onto. "I've never forgotten when I first heard the story of A Christmas Carol. It brought a whole new meaning to the holiday I'd never even thought about before."

He whistled happily as he strode from his cell into the cafeteria of Arkham Asylum. "Johnny, you're certainly cheerful this morning," said Harley Quinn, smiling at him.

"Probably because…aw, forget it," muttered the Joker next to her, picking at his breakfast. "I was gonna make a joke and say probably because he's got a hot date with no one later, but I'm not in the mood."

"Not in the mood for a cruel joke – goodness, something must be troubling you," said Crane lightly, sitting down next to Harley.

"It's nothing serious – puddin's just depressed on account of us still being locked in this dump," said Harley, patting Joker soothingly on the back. "He thought we'd have busted out weeks ago. But they've tripled the security on his cell alone, because they know Mr. J likes to make his big break over the holidays, and now…"

"And now here we are five days from Christmas and I ain't even had time to do even a little bit of mayhem!" finished Joker, forlornly. "This is my season, Harl! The season to be jolly! The people of Gotham don't even know what Christmas cheer is without me! But these ungrateful guards seem to have forgotten that old fashioned Christmas spirit of generosity, and are determined to keep me locked up in this miserable dump over the holidays! So you explain why I should be in a good mood, Johnny!"

"Well, you can always pray for a Christmas miracle," said Crane, dryly. "Perhaps Dr. Leland will be visited by three spirits in the night, have a change of heart, and let you escape."

"Why the heck would she be visited by three spirits?" demanded Joker.

"It's just…uh…a reference," said Crane, slowly. "To A Christmas Carol."

"Which Christmas carol?" asked Joker. "I know pretty much all of 'em, and I can't think of a one that mentions three spirits."

"No, not a Christmas carol, A Christmas Carol," repeated Crane.

Joker stared at him. "And I'm surrounded by idiots!" he sighed, burying his face in his hands. "Not that I wouldn't be anyway if I escaped with Harley, but still…"

"A Christmas Carol, the novella by Charles Dickens," explained Crane. "You must know the story – everyone does, in one form or another. Ebenezer Scrooge, Jacob Marley, Bob Cratchit…"

"That last one sounds like a dirty joke," sighed Joker. "But I'm too depressed to make one up for it."

Crane just looked at him. "Are you honestly telling me you've never heard the story of A Christmas Carol?"

"Well, I know it's hard for you to believe, Johnny, but some of us have a thing called a life," retorted Joker. "Which means we don't have time to read books all day, unlike some of us who don't have a life."

"I just have never met anyone who is totally unfamiliar with the story," said Crane, surprised.

"Yeah, well, the list of people you've met is probably pretty limited," retorted Joker. "So I'm not surprised."

"If you'd like to listen, I'm reading the story to Lenore after breakfast," said Crane, feeding the raven bits of toast. "I used to read it aloud with Jervis – we'd each read different parts in different voices, but since he's not here this year…"

"If you think I'm going to miss Christmas Carol Stave I Day for anything in the world, then I still deserve to be locked up in here, because I'm truly insane," said a voice from the doorway. They turned to see Jervis Tetch entering the room, beaming. "It's only the day I look forward to most out of the whole year!"

"Me too, aside from Halloween!" said Crane, standing up to embrace him. "I feel like the entire year has been building up to this! Shall we switch characters this year, or can I still read the ghosts?"

Joker looked from one to the other of them, and then sighed. "Hey, guys, here's twenty bucks," he said, handing them each a bill. "Do me, and yourselves, a favor and go out and get laid, so I can stop being annoyed at how pathetic the things that get you excited are. You can probably get a half decent hooker for twenty bucks. In fact, ask Pammie," he said, as Poison Ivy entered the room.

"Ask Pammie what?" said Ivy.

"Nothing, Pamela, Joker's just being offensive," retorted Crane, shoving the money back at him. "He's depressed, and so he's trying to ruin other people's happiness by being hurtful and petty."

"That's kinda what J does whether he's depressed or not," retorted Ivy.

"You guys shouldn't be mean to him," cooed Harley. "It breaks my heart to see puddin' like this. I've told him if he just keeps trying and doesn't give up hope, we'll find a way to break outta this dump…"

"How, Harley?" Joker demanded. "Every single exit outta this God forsaken hole is blocked, guarded, and otherwise inaccessible! I blame the Bat. He was sniffing around here a few weeks ago, poking and prying and finding out all the secret ways in and out. The lazy, selfish bastard probably wants a relaxing holiday season all by himself, so he's set out to spoil my fun, and he's done a damn fine job of it! I hope Santa brings him a lump of coal, and I hope it explodes in his face!"

"Perhaps he'll be visited by three spirits too," said Crane dryly. He stood up. "Well, if you'll excuse us, Jervis and I are just going to start reading to Lenore. If anyone would like to join us, they may."

"Ok, Professor, I hate to break it to you, but Lenore is a bird," said Joker, sarcastically. "A bird doesn't understand English, so I don't know why you're wasting your time reading a story to it."

"I enjoy it," replied Crane. "And it might do you good to hear this story, after all, Joker."

"Yeah? Is it about a guy who's locked up in some dump of a mental hospital surrounded by a bunch of lamewads, but who somehow miraculously breaks out and unleashes a heap of Christmas fun and chaos on his beloved city?" asked Joker.

"Uh…no," stammered Crane. "It's about a man who's become obsessed with selfishness and greed, and learns that life is about more than that."

"And why would it do me good to hear that story?" demanded Joker. "It sounds lame."

"Because you seem to have forgotten that Christmas is about being grateful for the things you have, rather than longing for things you do not," retorted Crane.

"Well, that's not true," snapped Joker. "It's about getting presents. And having fun. Neither of which is gonna happen in this dump."

He sighed heavily, standing up and heading back to his cell, with two armed guards following him. "Aw, c'mon, puddin', cheer up," purred Harley, leaning against him as they reached his cell. "If you just…"

But a gun was suddenly pressed against her head. "Hey, what gives?" she demanded, as a guard roughly shoved her away.

"No one but Patient Joker is allowed in Patient Joker's cell," said one of the Joker's guards, firmly. "Batman's orders."

"Batman? He ain't in charge here!" snapped Joker. "Harley's my girlfriend, and it's Christmas…"

"Batman's orders," repeated the guard. "He sees any visitor as a potential aid in an escape attempt."

"I don't believe this!" shouted Joker. "Why don't you tell that flying rodent…"

"No, puddin', don't aggravate them," said Harley. "You don't wanna end up in solitary on Christmas, do ya?"

"Kinda looks like I'll be in solitary anyway," retorted Joker. "So I don't get a conjugal visit on Christmas?"

"Batman's orders," repeated the guard.

Joker snorted. "Repressed freak," he muttered. "Just because he ain't getting any, he has to make sure I don't either."

"Don't worry, puddin' – I'll…see you at lunch," said Harley. "Try to smile, huh? That'll make everything better."

Joker growled and entered his cell, the door slamming shut after him as the guards resumed their positions. Joker sighed, folding his arms across his chest. "Should have listened to Johnny's stupid story," he muttered. "It's gotta be better than this."