Dr. Arkham rubbed the back of his neck. It was a long night. He still had a mountain of paperwork to get through. But that was nothing compared to the difficult situation he was in.

"Hey, Doctor. You still here? Take a break!" said Jonathon Corem, poking his head round the door. "It's 3:40 in the morning, sir. What could possibly take this long?"

"Jon, I don't know what to do. This is the Joker case we're talking about. He needs a new doctor but every doctor in the county is refusing to take him. Have you seen what he did to all his doctors?? Every one of them either quit, died or went crazy themselves. He's broken them all! There are no more left!" Dr. Arkham wailed.

"None?! How the hell did he do that?! There must be someone..."

"I'm telling you, this man is full-on insane. Remember poor Doctor Stratford? Suicide! After 4 sessions!"

"Well..." Jon sat down. "There must be some way...that we can beat him at his own game. Find someone who is just like him. Fight fire with fire."

"You mean... find an equally insane person...for his doctor...under full surveillance, of course..." Dr. Arkham rubbed his chin contemplatively. "But look how he reacts to group therapy. He hates it. He hates other crazy people as much as he hates sane ones. It won't work. And we need someone with strong willpower and insane people don't have that. Plus, where will we find someone just as insane? No, it wouldn't do..."

"Sir! Do you remember the Hannibal Lecter case?"

"How could I forget?! It was splattered all over the newspapers! And to think, I met him! He was such a brilliant psychiatrist!" Dr Arkham's eyes lit up, something they hadn't done for a long time. "That would be... perfect! Lecter could definitely handle anything the Joker threw at him! Get me Bertley Asylum!"

Hannibal Lecter was, once again, resting on his cold mattress. He was woken by a shrill whistle. Dr. Wolff was standing in front of his cell, a thick file in his hand.

"Hey, Lecter. You have an assignment. You've been chosen to be this man's doctor. If you accept, you'll be moved into Arkham Asylum. Your cell will be bigger, you will have more freedom and we will give you your books and junk back. If I were you, I'd say yes."

Lecter stood up and looked straight into Dr. Wolff's cold, cold eyes. "Why have they chosen me?"

"You're the only psychiatrist we could find who is...well, good enough."

Lecter stretched. "Well, I am tempted. What's this man like?"

Dr. Wolff pushed the files through the glass flap.

"Well...if you like playing games, then you're going to love this guy."

Lecter looked through the papers. "The Joker?The infamous clown prince of crime? I am flattered, Doctor!"

"Ah, so you've heard of him?"

"Heard of him? Why, who hasn't? The newspapers adore him. I've always wanted to work with him. This is a rare treat, very rare indeed, Doctor. I accept."

"Good." The Doctor signalled for Lecter to hand over the files.

"Am I not allowed to keep them? I am his doctor, after all." Lecter gave him an ambiguous stare. Dr Wolff turned sharply on his heel and briskly walked off.