The gangly man chuckled and adjusted the reddish ball of foam sitting obediently on his nose, as the devastating inferno swept through Gotham City. Swanky limousines on the pavements stood deserted, their polished exteriors dented beyond recognition by the rioters.
“It’s payback time, folks!” He spat out the words.
How often had he walked in these alleys, smiling at people, and waiting for a kind word or two in return! But what did he get in return? Taunts. And if his luck ran out, some free kicks in his shins.
It was then the joker had met the man in the black jacket. It had intricate designs of gold with which he could have bought Gotham. He took pity on the poor man and had encouraged him to instigate deathly riots.
The joker, still clutching at his aching sides, limped towards his savior.
“I can never thank you enough!”
“I should thank you! Because of you, Gotham is mine!”
The young man stepped back. “W.. What do you mean?”
“I will launch my missile here.”
The joker gasped. “Y.. You mean you used me?”
The man let out a raspy laughter. “Mogambo khush hua.. Oh mean, I am happy now!”
