* J *

Part Twenty: Chapter 142: El Banko de Penguin

The Joker passed out on the bathroom floor of his shitty motel room. The cheap Vodka had made him as sick as a dog. He threw up several times before realizing that the tile floor felt cool on his skin. When he awoke he threw up two more times. He knew he was going to regret drinking that cheap ass vodka. He looks at the paint that still covered his face. It was coming off in places, but a simple touch up would have him presentable again. He rinsed out his mouth and went and collapsed on the bed. The ever present headache throbbed behind his eyes.

He looks to the window and can see daylight coming through it. He didn't have time to go back to sleep, he had far too many things to get done. He drags himself off the bed. He looks at his feet and finds his shoes still on. He puts his room key in his pocket. He runs his hand around his waistband looking for his gun. Well, not his favorite purple Glock, but another plain gun from his arsenal. It wasn't on him. He looks around the room for it. Last night he got too drunk to remember where he put it. Damn. Where was it?

He walks back into the bathroom and finds it on the floor by the toilet. As he bends and reaches for it he gets a flash of a memory. Him, on his knees in the bathroom, the barrel of the gun pressed into the spot where the tumor lie. He draws back his hand with a hiss. He almost did it. He remembered it perfectly. He sweeps his hand through his hair and stares down at the gun, as if it could fire itself right into his brain.

"Pull it together J," he hears himself say and grasps his head.

He grabs the gun and sticks it down the back of his pants. He walks out of his room and slams the door behind him. He had places to go and people to see. First up on the list was Penguin. The Joker needed to subcontract him lto get his money for him. See, the Joker suspects that the D.A. knows where he keeps his money, and is just watching and waiting to arrest him. So the Joker needed a middle man to take the fall, if there was one to be had. It sure as shit wasn't him that would be taking the fall. The Joker finds it almost insulting that the D.A. thinks he's that stupid.

When the Joker shows up on Penguin's door step about four guns aimed in his face. For a moment he forgets that he's in a disguise. These men knew the Joker and still had no idea he was the one and only. He just smirks and holds his hands up.

"Oh please scary gangsta guys, don't shoot me," he sarcastically animated.

"I think you just wondered into the wrong place pal," one man tells the Joker and starts frisking him.

"I'm strapped. It's in my waistband," he tells them. Someone grabs his gun and pushes him into the house.

The Joker could see Penguin looking up at the commotion. He limps into the room, "Could you morons please keep it down?!" He shouts and bangs the tip of his umbrella into the floor. His eyes fall on the Joker. His eyebrows knit together as he looks at him closer. The Joker could tell that the Penguin was showing signs of an uncertain recognition. "Who's this guy standing in my foryer? And why the fuck does he know where to find me?" He emphatically expresses as he shouts in his men's faces.