Gotham, Park Row

"Twinkle, Twinkle, my darling Bat,

Lookie! Lookie! Oh, where are we at?

Why, isn't this the place that started all the fun

Where little Robin's training truly begun?

He was the brat I did my very best to get rid

But somehow, somehow, from me he hid!

His little prank I shall do my best to avenge

Because killing Robin is my ultimate revenge!"

His high, keening laugh drowned out the sound of the gun as it belched fire. His cackles bounced off the cobblestone and winged up over the rooftops of the building, disturbing a bunch of bats from their nest. Frightened rats scurried from beneath piles of refuse to find safety beneath boxes dumped by the back door of an old milliner's shop. A scruffy black cat screeched as it came out of where it was feasting upon something which might have once been alive behind a dumpster piled high with rotting refuse.

Those pretty blue eyes widened with a mixture of shock, fear, and pain. That perfect little mouth formed soundless, inarticulate words. Then the boy slumped to the rain-slick pavement, much like a puppet after its strings were released.

If not for the blood slowly turning the front of his shirt a deeper shade of red, he might well have been one of those marionettes he saw that freakazoid, the Ventriloquist playing within his cell at Arkham. Only, he knew that wasn't the case. Robin wasn't a puppet dumped on the wet cobblestone.

No, he was a battered and broken boy laying there in an ever-growing pool of red.

Robin's stick-thin arms and legs were akimbo, his eyes were slowly glazing over, and his mouth worked to form his final thoughts. The Joker spun in a circle, his coat fanning out behind him and cackled one long, slippery laugh. He cried as he giggled. Fat tears rolled down his gaunt cheeks and pooled in the cracks and crevices of a mouth that was cruel when it smiled and which smiled when he was being his most cruel.

This was gonna be the grandest of finales between him and Batman...

Oh, it was gonna be so much fun!

He had only gone to an insanely huge amount of trouble to ensure that everything would be absolutely perfect.

It better be...

Or else there will be hell to pay, he thought, his verdant eyes glinting with mercurial glee. He specifically chose this place to leave his little gift because it was the very alley where the adorable little scamp tried to boost the tires off the Batmobile. The guts of the little darling were why he chose him to become Batman's second Robin. The boy was perfect for the role! He was everything a good Robin should be: bold, brash, fearless, ambiguously moralistic and best of all, willing to do what ole Batsy couldn't: kill.

Sure, the boy had given him a wee bit of trouble once he got dumped into those adorable green daisy dukes. It was only to be expected, though. He had been given the prestigious role as his agent of chaos. It just wouldn't be seemly for Robin not to live up to his expected role. Besides, watching as his precious Knight tried to turn the little gutter rat into something that resembled the first Boy Blunder had provided him with hours upon hours of entertainment.

The Joker cackled, one deep, throaty laugh while he recalled the enjoyment he received. He had gleefully watched from the sidelines as the boy struggled with Batman's silly principles. He happily watched as the tyke willfully defied his darling's edicts and obtained justice the way a real Robin should.

Oh, he gleefully aided his little puppet in circumventing his mentor's orders. Seeing the havoc caused to Batman's life was worth the few bruises and lumps he received. More tears rolled down his cheeks as he recalled how frazzled the big man had been with some of his young protégé's antics. It had been marvelous fun to sit and watch as Batsy tried to contend with his newest playmate.

Whoever said you can't enjoy a toy before breaking it never had a toy quite as much fun as my little Robin.

More giggles perforated the air as he thought back upon those months.

The twerp had been more than a live action figure. He was way more than just an endless river of amusement. Ultimately, the boy was his coup d'état, his way of overthrowing those pesky little morals his Bats had and awakening him to the truth: that he was just as crazy as the rest of 'em.

The plan had been brilliant.

It was a guaranteed success.

He finally figured out how exactly he could get around Batman's little golden rule and bring him down to his level.

Kill Robin and Batman was sure to explode.

It was beautiful!

It was brilliant!

It was his swan-song!

And yet, he thought now with a frown, the kid survived. Somehow, somehow Robin managed to leave that warehouse breathing. How he had done it, the Joker didn't know. He wasn't terribly amused with how his puppet disrupted his plans by not dying as he was supposed too, either. How dare the kid play such a cruel joke! Who did he think he was? Playing a prank on him. Him! The Clown Prince of Crime! Why, who ever heard of such a thing?

The joke wasn't even all that funny in his opinion. I mean really! He scoffed. Faking your own death? That's not even original. No, it was really quite cruel of the brat. The only honorable thing here is for Robin to die again, he reasoned as he stuck his still smoking pistol into the waistband of his trousers. Oh, he guaranteed the kid was gonna stay dead this time. He made absolutely sure of it.

Those mangled lips twitched into what could almost be called a smile as he told the bleeding boy, "Not gonna fake your way outta it this time, kiddo."

Yes, he had certainly taught the boy a lesson in scene-stealing, now, hadn't he? Oh, the rags were gonna label him a monster for killing a kid. Not that he much cared about their opinions. He needed Robin dead if he wanted to push his Bats over the edge. So dead Robin now was. And dead was how he was gonna remain. He giggled as he circled around his masterpiece.

Everything was going exactly as planned.

All of his dreams were about to finally come true.

No, the Boy Blunder wasn't gonna fool him again! Nope, not this time! Even now the boy's heart was slowing down, his breathing coming in short, tattered rasps. The light was already fading from those pretty blue eyes staring at him from behind that fetching little mask.

Why, he could just imagine the look on his dear Knight's face when he saw what he had done. How utterly terrible his rage and grief were gonna be! His grin stretched wider as he crouched beside the boy.

"Now," he said to him. "I must be off. You be a good boy and lie here in this nice, dark alley quietly. Oh, and be dead by the time the big man finds you. Can you do that for your Uncle J, kiddo? Can you?" He clapped his hands and giggled with glee. "Oh, I'm sure you can! Tootles now, kid! It was nice knowing ya!"

He stood up, scarlet lips stretched wide as he eyeballed his work one final time. Oh, he was in high spirits! He felt like dancing, in fact! And why shouldn't he? He finally, finally! taught Robin a lesson about stealing his spotlight. He finally made him pay for the cruel little prank he played in Ethiopia. The boy was going to finally fulfill his role as his coup d'état.

Oh, it was gonna be brilliant!

Everything was absolutely perfect!

Batman was going to finally break his golden rule!

He couldn't wait.

He turned away, his scarlet lips stretched wide, and started to slowly stroll from the alley. A fat tabby cat scooted around the corner, paused, and seeing him, hissed, and raced for cover beneath a dumpster.

"Here kitty, kitty, kitty," the Joker playfully whispered. Then he melted into the night, reciting his macabre ditty under his breath once more. "Twinkle, Twinkle, my darling Bat… come see where I've left your Robin at!"

A/N: Hello, all, and welcome to the Funhouse! Please, keep hands and feet inside the ride at all times.

This story is set loosely after the events of Death in a Family and after Tim takes up the mantle of being Robin.

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