A Three Jokers Orgin story. So there's been a lot of Joker in the news lately. Lots of debate about giving him an origin story. Should he have one? Should it be multiple choice? Should it be a mystery? Well I'm curious by nature. I love the origin s...
After J and Harley were pronounced man and wife he told us that he wanted to be alone with his bride. Then he pulled out his gun and shot the priest right between the eyes. He told me and Ace to dispose of the body. Yeah, J, thanks. You get to sleep with Harley and I'm on cleanup detail. That's precisely how I wanted to spend the rest of my birthday. Jackass.
Ace walked over to a closet and pulled something from the top shelf. He walks over to the dead priest and starts unfolding a body bag next to him. Who the hell keeps bodybags just laying around their home? Ok. So that's a dumb question, we're talking about the Joker. Of course he keeps these sorts of things around the house.
"Grab his legs," Ace tells me.
So I grab the dead priest's legs and help Ace get him in the body bag. He zips it up and starts to drag the body away.
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Frost is waiting nearby with a mop and bucket, ready to clean up the blood that had spilled out of the head. I scratch my head and look the scene over. Just a typical day at camp Joker.
Ace drops the bag with a huff and looks up at me, "A little help would be nice your magesty," he stares at me, half out of breath.
I roll my eyes and bend over and hoist the bagged ankles under my arm. He picks up the heavier end and we start for the door. Frost meets us there and lets us out. We waddle to the elevator and press the down button. As we wait I find myself singing that fucking nursery rhyme J always whistles.
"...The monkey thought it was all in fun. Pop Goes The Weasel..."
The elevator doors open and we get in it with the body bag. We both let go and the priest hits the floor with a loud splat. When we get downstairs we take the back way out to the alley where we had left the Escalade this morning at dawn. Ace opens the back and we throw the priest inside.
We go to one of J's warehouses and put him in one of those old cast iron clawfoot bathtubs and fill it most of the way with water. Ace leads me over to a shelf filled with gallon sized bottles. Each was labeled differently, things like level one surface, level two subsurface, level three internal subsurface.
"What are all these?" I ask Ace.
"Boss's concoctions," he says hoisting down a bottle that says level ten external/internal. "This shelf is all derivatives of acid," he says walking over to the dead priest. He pulls a cork from the bottle and a fog of vapor pours out like dry ice. Ace carefully lifts the bottle, "You gotta be real careful with this stuff, if it splashes on you it'll burn a hole right through you but if it's mixed with water, you can't stop it. It'll keep eating away at you, and nothing can stop it or neutralize it."
I watch as he pours maybe a capfull into the tub. The water in it instantly starts to bubble, as if it were boiling. "That's all it takes?" I ask.
"Yep. About an ounce and bye bye priest," he says recorking the bottle and returning it to the shelf. "Come on, let's get outta here," he motions for me to follow.
