Gotham's Dead End Bar

The Joker knew something was wrong. Something was broken in his already cracked mind. Something… funny.

Normally, his thoughts would have been incomprehensible to anyone else. Cloaked in chaos and insane humor that not even Harley could understand. Now, they almost made sense. A twisted sort of sense, to be sure, but sense nonetheless.

He didn't even feel the need to hurt anyone! Not for the mere sake of dishing out pain, at least. For the bit? Sure. But not for sadism's sake on its own. Nor indulgence's sake. Thankfully, causing the general mayhem he found oh-so amusing fell under 'doing it for the bit'. At least he still had that.

But compared to his usual methods… It was unthinkable! Confusing. Vexing. Unique… Intriguing. A new kind of chaos for him to explore.

And the Joker was nothing if not chaotic. He didn't know what was responsible for his new outlook on life. Did it matter? He was more than used to great swings in personality. This one was different from the norm, sure, but not so much that the Joker couldn't eventually adapt.

There was an underlying sense of madness to this all. Not the sane insanity he was used to. No, this was Madness. With a capital 'M'. The kind of force that drove the Mad Hatter. Or the Scarecrow. A hyperfixation, something to drive yourself Mad over.

Even if he wasn't Mad originally, the Joker had still been plenty mad, with a lowercase 'm'. And illogically, this Madness took his madness and drove him all the way around to something that he could approximately describe as lucidity.

Still, sanity for the Joker was far from normal sanity. He hadn't lost what made him, him. Just a bit of his insane edge, driven out by Madness. What it left behind fell back on his sense of humor, turning camp instead of cruel.

At the same time, a fourth wall crumbled just a little bit more in his mind. And he realized something had changed. Some new variable had been introduced to the formulaic reality he was oh-so used to. Was that… crack…? The Joker found his new Mad hyperfixation.

And so the wave of Madness that washed over Arkham Tower left the Joker changed. He wasn't alone. All of the Tower's residents were driven a bit Mad, in this specific sense of the word.

Killer Croc settled slightly more into his skin, his Madness bringing out his lingering humanity. Solomon Grundy found Madness stimulating his poor, rotting brains. Black Mask found his Madness in the crime he lived and breathed, becoming his mask even more than he already was.

Just about the only Arkham resident worse off for the wave of Madness was Victor Zsasz. He was an exception. He wasn't mad to begin with. Capital or lowercase, not even a little bit. He was just that cruel, that sadistic, that utterly deplorable of a human being.

So when the Madness hit him, there was nothing there for it to work with. No hints of Madness in his situation or personality. Just sanity. Sanity that was naturally twisted into a new Madness, tainted by Zsasz's inherent, inhuman cruelty.

The wave of Madness didn't just affect people. It washed over Arkham Tower itself. Sourced from a Sigil created by its founder, even this twice-removed version of Arkham was uniquely vulnerable. The building of concrete, steel, and glass went Mad, releasing those it was charged to hold.

Mad patients — inmates in all but name — returned to the streets of Gotham. The city was saved from the direct wave of Madness but not from those it affected. Unexpectedly, the consequences weren't quite as severe as one would expect. That was the nature of Madness like this. It was truly unpredictable.

Killer Croc didn't suddenly start eating people in the streets. Instead, he found a nice pond in a park and curled up for a nap. Solomon Grundy didn't begin an undead rampage. Instead, he found a library and started looking into his original death, scaring the wits out of a poor librarian in the process even if he was surprisingly polite about it.

On the other end of the Mad spectrum, Victor Zsasz immediately went looking for another reason to carve into his skin. Black Mask emerged from Arkham to find a city that was surprisingly empty of its criminal element. Or so he thought.

In reality, everyone just happened to be busy with a certain Dead End. Still, the perceived absence gave him a headstart to begin gathering criminal power once again now that he was free. Starting with a whole new troupe of mind-controlled Masks to act as his elites.

After his escape, the Joker fell somewhere into the middle of this spectrum of Madness. At first, he found somewhere to hole up and acclimate to his new Mad/sane/humorous/Cracked reality. Once he was satisfied and settled into his new unique form of Madness, Joker set out to find his annoying main henchwoman.

Harley Quinn was his greatest masterpiece. When the world wished to cure him and put a stop to his act of comedy and tragedy, they assigned him to a psychiatrist. A good one. New, fresh-footed, naive, even — but talented. The Joker was sure to show them what a mistake that was.

There was nothing about him to cure. He was an embodiment of chaos. A force of nature! Not some nutjob! He was more aware than the rest of the world combined! Even before this new fourth-wall-breaking Madness!

So he worked his special brand of magic on the best treatment the world had to offer. Treatment for treatment, the tables weren't just turned, they were flipped inside out!

Harleen became Harley. The Joker broke her down, piece by piece. And he built her back up. Better. She was his best work, painted in brushstrokes that spat on those who tried to cure what couldn't and shouldn't be cured. Like any tortured, misunderstood artist, he loved and hated what he'd created.

But no matter his mixed feelings about his art, Harley was undeniably useful. Especially when he'd just gotten out of Arkham for the umpteenth time. If he wanted to find out more about his new Mad hyperfixation — this change… of medium…? —, Harley was as good a place to start as any.

She was his (she wasn't). She would come running when he called (she wouldn't). She owed him for making her what she was today (she didn't).

Only… the Joker quickly realized that he couldn't find her anywhere. Not in any of their usual hideouts. Not at Poison Ivy's conservatory. Not even at her favorite mallet shop! He ended up having to return to his gang alone. Like some kind of joke!

It wasn't funny! Joker wasn't laughing. Well… maybe a little bit. But it was a Mad laugh of disbelief more than anything genuine. Especially when he heard from some of his J-boys where she'd been lately. Where everyone had been lately. Another piece of his hyperfixation fell into place.

A Dead End…? A neutral bar? That had banned him by name?! Ohohohoho~! There was a joke being played here. And Joker wouldn't let himself be the butt of it! Not even his new Mad sense of humor would allow that. Not without his input at least!

IIIII

"Another round for everybody, Gothboy~!" Harley declared. "And another story~! The party doesn't end until I say it does~!"

Her declaration was met with a round of cheers from the very diverse patrons of the Dead End, "Yeeeaaaahh~!"

"This is so much better than a frat party!"

"Eeeee~! I can't believe I got a picture with the Poison Ivy!"

"Damn, I haven't partied like this since I dropped out of high school!"

"Oh, yeah?! I haven't partied like this since Tahiti in '08! Take that, Billy!"

"Shut up, Ashton, you highborn bastard. It ain't a competition."

"That's Sir Highborn Bastard to you!"

"Damn… so many drunk rich kids. I almost wish I was still running scams."

"Not in the Dead End, Seamus. You know better than that!"

"Oi! I said 'almost'!"

"Oh Emm Geee~! I'm, like, your biggest fan, Miss Harley~!"

"What are we celebrating again?"

"I think the Olympics are coming to Gotham or something…?"

"Oh, God! Don't even joke about something like that!"

I smiled fondly, sharing the expression with Ivy and Didi. Even after Ivy's grand opening and everything else that happened, Harley was still riding high.

Her energy was infectious, taking over the entire bar and everyone in it. And even if they didn't know why they were celebrating, they could enjoy the free drinks and lively atmosphere Harley brought with her.

The impossible space of the Dead End was packed. But it managed never to feel overcrowded. Thanks to conceptual Death fuckery, space wasn't at a premium. We could house the entire city if we had to. An idea that was being put to the test tonight.

Also impossibly, Didi and I managed to serve everyone with laidback ease. More conceptual fuckery. We were never rushed or busy. Time and causality stretched and twisted nonchalantly within the Dead End. As if breaking every law of sense and reason was the natural order of things.

Most of the bar's patrons were split off here or there around the impossible space. The bar itself had been made into a pseudo-VIP area. It wasn't enforced at all but it was where the original regulars and the villains gathered.

The concentrated force of personality that came along with Gotham's capes kept most away. A few were brave enough to venture near. But most were content to watch from the sidelines. The self-imposed segregation made things easier for me, keeping the proverbial 'main cast' close at hand.

So even with the 'city-wide' celebration — in the sense that people from all across the city were celebrating with Harley in the Dead End —, everything else was practically business as usual. The boys and girls I'd grown accustomed to were sitting at the bar.

Two-Face, Riddler, Penguin, Catwoman, Scarecrow, and Bane were all here. Outside of the big names, Nocturna, Kite-Man, and Firefly were here as well. Ivy and Harley were present, of course. Freeze and Nora were manning the shop behind the Dead End. Even Vicki Vale joined us at the bar, alongside a few henchmen and mooks here and there to round out the regulars.

The only ones who were missing were the heroes. I hadn't seen them all night. Not even Cass or Damian coming by for their customary headpats. Any longer, and I'd start to get concerned.

Thankfully, Barbara — in her Batgirl costume — stumbled up to the bar a few moments later. Despite how unsure she was on her feet, she didn't seem drunk. Just ungodly tired. As shown by the way she pulled up a seat next to Catwoman and all but collapsed with her head against the wood of the bar.

"Alright, Babs?" I asked and greeted her at the same time.

Even though I used her real name, no one reacted. The Dead End's protection of secret identities was certainly useful. Saying Barbara's last name might have gotten a few surprised blinks but just her first didn't raise any eyebrows. Even if it did, it wouldn't matter outside of the bar.

"Uuuuuggghhh…" Batgirl groaned. "I hate mass breakouts."

That statement got some attention from the others at the bar, "Mass breakout?"

Without raising her head from the bartop, Batgirl replied to Riddler, "Yeah, something happened at Arkham Tower early this morning. We stopped it from getting too bad but it still caused a breakout."

I nodded in understanding, "And that means you and the others have been running around all day trying to do damage control and recapture everyone."

"Yeah… It's a pain in the ass. I'm exhausted," Batgirl sighed.

Catwoman purred comfortingly beside her, rubbing her back, "Aww~ It's okay, little bat. How about you take a break for a little while? C'mon, have a drink with Auntie Selina and ignore your responsibilities~"

Batgirl relaxed at the familiar touch, "Well… I am supposed to be off-duty at the moment. I can have a few drinks. Nothing alcoholic though. I only have a few hours until my next shift starts."

"How about something cold and sweet? A virgin pina colada sound good?" I suggested.

"Oh, God, yes! You're an angel!" Batgirl exclaimed. "I could kiss you, Sean!"

"Not in front of the Rogues, dear," I said faux-condescendingly, patting her head as I said it.

Batgirl turned her head slightly to show me her glaring eyes but didn't resist, "… You're lucky I don't feel like moving right now."

Chuckling, I left her to prepare the drink. As I did that, Two-Face asked, "So who all's out?"

Batgirl scowled at the reminder but still answered, "Croc and Grundy, for starters. Black Mask as well. Zsasz has been an absolute menace already and we haven't been able to pin him down, just keep him from murdering at large. Bastard… I think Maxie Zeus is out there somewhere but we haven't seen anything from him so far. Then, of course, Joker…"

The Joker's name brought a wave of tension with it. Almost everyone at the bar glanced toward Harley. Only to be surprised when they saw how she was reacting to the news of the Joker's escape.

Harley's joyful grin didn't waver or shift an inch. Instead of being overtaken by anxiety or obsession, she laughed freely, "I'm sure you'll catch him soon enough, Girl-Bat. That asshole never likes to lay low for long."

"You're not… worried about him?" Penguin asked, trying to be diplomatic.

Harley's grin grew as wide as a Chesire Cat's and she replied simply, "Nah."

Ivy elaborated for her, "Harley's… 'J-problem' has been solved. She'll never have to worry about… that man ever again."

People blinked in surprise, Two-Face exclaiming, "Since when?!"

"This morning," Harley answered matter-of-factly. "That's why we're celebrating, ain't it?"

Bane was the first to accept Harley's words, nodding, "Good for you, chica. I never liked you with that devil."

His words were met with murmurs of agreement and a quick hug from Harley, "Thanks, Banie~!"

The five-foot-two jester hugging the six-foot-eight giant made for an entertaining sight. If Bane blushed, it was impossible to tell beneath his mask. Awkwardly, he patted her on the back and looked away.

"How…?" Batgirl asked, still trying to process Harley's claim.

"Oh, it was easy," Harley waved dismissively. "Gothboy did his thing. KILLED my infatuation and Joker's influence over me. Simple as, really."

"How else?" Ivy added with amusement.

"Guilty," I said unrepentantly, holding my hands up when Batgirl glanced at me for confirmation. Her eyes then darted to Didi before she gulped slightly and looked away.

It seemed someone had informed the Bat Family who Didi was. I wasn't bothered by that. It wasn't like we were trying to hide anything. Sure, we didn't come out and say 'Hey, Lady Death's over here!' but we also didn't lie or obscure the truth. If they looked properly, they could have figured it out on their own. Hell, I was a bit surprised Jason Todd didn't recognize Didi considering he'd met her before.

"I-I see," Batgirl gamely hid a stutter. "I suppose I should expect nothing less from Sean at this point. Still, it's good to see you better, Harley."

"You know it, Girl-Bat~!" Harley singsonged with a grin. "I'm that bitch Harley Quinn~! Why should I care about some loser with a shitty sense of humor?"

Jaws dropped at that. It was one thing to hear Harley say she was done with the Joker. It was another thing entirely for her to insult his sense of humor.

Then Penguin started to chuckle. It quickly turned into a full-blown cackle, "Hehehahahahaha~! You're going to kill him with that one, Harley! I didn't think I'd ever heard someone insult the Joker's sense of humor!"

"Serves the bastard right," Ivy grumbled.

"Aww~" Harley cooed. "Love you too, Red~!"

I placed Batgirl's drink in front of her. Almost immediately, she took a good long drag. She came up for air with a relieved sigh, "Ahhhhh… I needed that. Damn, that's good…"

"And it's on us, Girl-Bat~!" Harley cut in. "In fact, another round~! Another, another, another~! Don't let the drinks stop flowing, Gothboy~! Not tonight~!"

Ivy sighed, "Just take it out of Ivy's Ivy's profits for tonight…"

"And, c'mon, Gothboy, where's our story?! Story~! Story~! Story~! Story~!" Harley started up a chant.

She was joined by the henchmen at the bar. The villains were next, more subdued but no less eager or amused. As always, Vicki was waiting for my next story on the edge of her seat. Even Batgirl joined in with a mischievous grin on her face.

A few people held up their drinks for refills. They found them filled again before they could blink, the workload split and done impossibly. After that, they had no real choice but to join the chant as well.

"Alright, alright," I caved. "Gather round, everyone. I guess it's storytime again."

"Yay~!"

"Heh… Storytime for villains."

"Hold on, hold on! Let me get my notes!"

"Riddle me this… What the fuck does Mr. Barkeep have in store for us this time?!"

I hummed, thinking for a moment, "Hmm, well, considering how worn out our resident hero is at the moment, how about a story of personal heroics to bolster her spirit?"

"You, Sean? A hero?" Batgirl deadpanned. "I can't see it."

I waved dismissively, "Eh, different life, different concept of what it meant to be a hero. For one, I was never one to shy away from killing people who were beyond help."

"You can't just kill people, Sean," Batgirl protested.

"I disagree. I can and I did."

"Well, you shouldn't! Especially not if you call yourself a hero! What gives you the right to take a life?!"

I glanced pointedly at Didi and didn't say anything.

Batgirl paused, "… Okay, that's a fair point. But I still can't condone that course of action. Heroes help, not kill."

I tutted, "You'll probably change your tune when you hear about the antagonists of today's story. Let me tell you the tale… of the Slaughterhouse Nine. And their final ill-fated game of Cat and Mouse Protector…"

"Slaughterhouse… Nine…?" Riddler asked.

"They're just as bad as the name makes them sound," I confirmed the rest of his unspoken question with a nod.

"Surely, it's just a name… right?" Batgirl sounded a bit unsure of herself now.

I shook my head sadly, "Let me set the stage for you and introduce some of the characters for tonight's story.

"Now, this story is set in a world I've told you all about before. The same world that was plagued by Entities and Endbringers. The same place I met my ex-wife Simmy. You all remember her, don't you?"

There were slight murmurs of agreement but most of my audience didn't speak. They settled into silent anticipation, readily listening to my every word. Still, more than a few paled when I mentioned the Entities again.

I continued, "The Slaughterhouse Nine was a group of nine of the worst supervillains that the world had to offer. They roamed the country, doing exactly what you would expect from a gang with that name. They were literal murder hobos. I can't stress that enough. They killed for fun, for power, for convenience, for quite literally any little reason.

"They were a scourge on the American continent. They boasted 20-plus years of active 'service' — by which I mean indiscriminate mass murder on a scale that's still hard for me to comprehend — and innumerable members. By the time I met them, their death toll must have been in the tens to hundreds of thousands. Maybe even a million, all told.

"The entire group had a Kill Order on it. Even newly joined recruits. If you were a part of the Nine, you were considered a lost cause. See, the Nine had a rotating cast of characters, often recruited through torture and death. Sometimes former members were even replaced by their victims…

"But some stayed consistent throughout their run of terror. Jack Slash. The worst of the worst. He'd give the Joker a run for his money when it came to sadism, cruelty, and dealing out ironic deaths. He thought himself funny too. He was the leader of the Nine, having killed the original founder more than 20 years before I came across them."

A certain tension had settled over the bar. More than a few in my audience were drinking to hide their disgust and horror. Batgirl looked like she was going to throw up. Catwoman was comforting her with a tightly held hand. Even Harley was uncharacteristically sober.

My voice was heavy with solemn gravitas as I introduced the rest of the Nine, "Mannequin. A brilliant inventor who was driven mad by Simmy when she was still in her bad-girl era."

My attempt at lightening the mood received awkward chuckles. Earth Bet wasn't a happy or light place. The stories from my time there certainly didn't fuck around.

I winced slightly but pressed on, "After being driven mad, he mutilated himself, cocooning all his vital organs in a mannequin-like shell and discarding his flesh. He went on to torture and kill other inventors and tinkers that reminded him of what he once was.

"Siberian. She was what was known as a 'Perfect'. An unstoppable force and an immovable object at the same time. No defense could block her. And no attack seemed to harm her. As it turned out, the Siberian wasn't what she seemed. She was a projection from another cape. That didn't make her crimes any less real…

"Crawler. The epitome of a monster. He was once a somewhat normal man if a touch masochistic. Then he was cursed with adaptive regeneration. His body regenerated from any damage, even down to near-complete annihilation. And it adapted to best resist the attacks that hurt him. When I met him, he was a beast of countless eyes, scales, claws, and teeth.

"Hatchet Face. Just a really ugly guy. If not for his cruelty and powers, he may have lived a normal life. But he chose to take up a hatchet and become something straight out of a slasher movie. He was durable and strong but nothing really special. No, what set him apart from the rest was his ability to nullify powers in an aura around him. Any. Powers. Then he squashed the rest of his problems with a big fucking ax to the face.

"Shatterbird. A beautiful and deadly songbird with wide-scale silicate control. She sang songs of glass, delicate and razor-sharp. Whole cities fell under hails of glass shards. Don't let her pretty description fool you. She was just as much of a monster as the rest, taking pleasure in recruiting those the Nine broke.

"Burnscar. A pyromaniac in the most literal sense of the word. She was a mistress of flames, growing more and more unhinged the more fire that was nearby. All she cared about was watching the world burn. To the point that her very mental state depended on it.

"Finally, Bonesaw. The Chirurgeon. Bonesaw… Riley was a special case amongst the Nine. She was just a girl. The Nine took her and manipulated her, tearing her world apart until she broke. Then Jack Slash rebuilt her in his image. She wasn't a monster by choice. But by the time I met her, she'd been what she was for half of her life. For six of her twelve years, she was made to worship the man who killed her family and broke her… She wanted nothing more than to be his 'good girl'."

"Oh, God… I'm going to be sick!" One of the mooks exclaimed at my last description in particular.

A quick snap of Didi's fingers brought out trashcans to puke in. More than a few took her up on the offer. The rest just stared at me in shock. Horror, disgust, loathing, none were sufficient enough to describe the abomination of the Nine or what Jack Slash did to poor Riley.

"Uh… that's only eight," Riddler observed in the horrified silence.

I shook my head with a dark chuckle, "When I met the Nine, they were right in the middle of recruitment. And that brings us to our story's heroic focal point. Besides the ever-humble moi~ of course."

After hearing about a group like the Slaughterhouse Nine, the attempt at humor was a very much-needed relief. Though the chuckles were strained, they were still audible. And Harley gave me a good-natured booing. Some of the tension bled out of my enraptured audience.

"S-So we get to hear about the heroes of this world now?" Batgirl asked with a shaky exhale.

"Sure," I grinned. "Let me introduce you to Mouse Protector. A Hero. She was a symbol. No matter how dark it got, she was there with a joke. She bore everything with a sense of humor that few could match. Think of her like Spiderman-… Oh, wait, he's not from this universe. Okay, think of her like… the Flash.

"She was as quick with a pun or quip as she was with her sword. She protected people. She fought and foiled villains. She didn't kill if she didn't have to. Even in the grimdark world she called home."

"A proper hero then," Penguin said.

I chuckled, "Yep, more so than I ever was. Batman would still hate her though. Famously, she stood for 'Cheese and Justice! In that order!'."

"Hell yeah~!" Harley cheered. "Now, that's my kind of girl!"

"You two would have gotten along so well it's concerning," I told her.

"And what about you, Mr. Barkeep?" Catwoman asked. "You said you were a hero then as well. What were you like?"

"I called myself Toymaker. I was an inventor, a Tinker. To the rest of the world, I simply made toys."

"Toys?" Someone scoffed. "How's that a superpower?"

"Because my toys actually did what kids imagined they could do," I deadpanned. "Any of you have kids?"

A few mooks raised their hands and I smirked, "Ask them about Beyblades. Or Yu-gi-oh cards. Or the Omnitrix. Hell, I could go on and on. You know, Lantern Rings could be considered toys in some worlds."

The smarter ones in my audience began to pale as I elaborated, "Oh, holy shit…"

"Dude, my kid has a toy version of Wonder Woman's lasso…"

"I used to play Magic: the Gathering. Do those cards count too?"

"Wait, hold up! Could you make my boy's He-man action figure real?!"

"Are they even toys at that point?" Riddler inquired curiously.

"Sure, they just had to be recognizable and marketable. I couldn't make, say, a gun but a blaster from Star Wars? That was distinct and well-known enough to qualify," I explained. "And don't even get me started on the things I could do with Lego."

"Okay, bullshit powers aside," Batgirl rolled her eyes. "Shouldn't we get back to the story? What happened to Mouse Protector?"

Nodding, I resumed my story, "Right, of course. Mouse Protector was a great hero. But she had one key flaw. She loved drama. And it came back to bite her. An arch-nemesis of hers had the bright idea of hiring the Nine to kill her."

All the villains reacted as if that idea deeply offended them. Two-Face tsked, "Now, that just ain't how things are done."

"Yeah, you gotta respect your nemesis! They're half of what makes you a villain!" Harley added. "It's villain one-oh-one!"

"At the very least, you can't hire a hitman on them. If you wanna kill 'em, do it yourself," Bane grunted.

Riddler nodded, "There's a code to these things. The game is much more fun if everyone follows it."

"Well, that's what Ravager did," I said. "She was a nasty piece of work like that. She set the Nine onto Mouse Protector. And with a group of murder hobos like them, there was only one way it was going to turn out."

Tension returned to the audience at the reminder of who the Nine were and what they represented. I pressed on regardless, "The Nine hunted Mouse Protector for days on end. They gave her no break or quarter. They didn't let her sleep, or eat, or hide. All she could do was run. They took sick pleasure in torturing her in an 'ironic' game of cat and mouse.

"When I caught wind of what was happening, I figured I should do something. Now, I was barely considered a hero. More of a rogue than anything else. No one expected me to take on the Slaughterhouse Nine. But I did. I played with them like they'd played with so many others before."

Catwoman smirked, "Played with them? Like a toy?"

I nodded seriously, "Like a toy."

"Wooo~!" Harley clapped. "We love a happy ending~! Especially one with puns!"

"How'd you do it?" Batgirl asked in morbid curiosity.

"One word," I answered, pausing for dramatic effect. "Mecha."

She blinked, "Mecha…?"

"Mecha!" Riddler exclaimed in excitement. "What kind of Mecha?! An EVA?"

"I don't think an EVA would be ideal against opponents that aren't Angel-sized. A Gundam, perhaps?" Penguin proposed, only slightly less excited.

The other looked at them in complete askance. Two-Face put it into words, "What the HELL are you two talking about?!"

"Mecha?" Riddler said, cocking his head. "Mobile Suit Gundam? Turn A Gundam? Evangelion? Macross? Macross Plus?"

"Think Transformers but Japan and anime did it first. And better," Penguin explained.

"What the Hell…" Two-Face muttered. "Since when are you two into anime?! I mean Riddler, maybe, but you too, Penguin?"

They didn't dignify that with a response.

"So why does this Mecha stuff have you two so excited?" Harley asked, much more politely than Two-Face.

Penguin and Riddler looked at each other for a moment before nodding and answering in synch, "Because we're men of culture."

"Too true," I laughed. "And by the way, I went with the most OG of classics."

"You don't mean…?" Riddler mumbled in awe.

A certain Mecha model floated off the shelf of trophies behind me. Due to its size, it hadn't been noticed before. It was toy-sized in this configuration, only a replica of the famous Mecha I'd based mine off of. The RX-78-2 Gundam Mobile Suit in all its recognizable, blocky, samurai goodness.

"So it was a Gundam," Penguin observed, visibly trying to keep his cool.

I grinned. "Well, Turn A seemed like it would be a bit overkill. After all, they were meant to be for interstellar warfare. And I certainly didn't need to kill entire planets just yet. I saved that for the Entities themselves."

"Ah… We were wondering how you solved that existential problem," Batgirl sighed. "Good to know. Terrifying. But good to know."

"Now, Mr. Caine, when you say — and I quote — 'kill entire planets'… what do you mean by that?" Vicki interjected.

I raised an impassive eyebrow, "Just what I said, Vicki. The Turn A Gundam was the culmination of an entire human civilization. It's a 'universal ending' to a line of technology that specializes and focuses on massive humanoid robots of war."

"Do you have an example of this 'Turn A' to show us as well?"

I shrugged, "Sure, why not?"

Another Gundam model floated forward from my trophy shelf. It was a little bit taller than the first model and a whole lot sleeker. Two bits of armor extended from the helmet's upper lip in the most glorious mustache Mecha had ever seen.

"Oh, it's adorable," Catwoman cooed and chuckled. "Look at that little mustache."

"This little thing?" Harley cocked her head. "It doesn't seem like all that."

I smirked, "Imagine both of them about 20 meters tall and 60/30 metric tons respectively. And armed with 60mm cannons, beam weaponry, lightsabers, and a big-ass flail for smashing shit to bits."

"Oh… Yeah, I can see how that'd be a bit intimidating."

"So this is how you took out those evil murder hobos?" Ivy asked.

"The RX-78-2 was my main weapon for that, at least. I also had an army of action figures with functional weapons for support. I shocked everyone stupid when I came out swinging with all of that at once. They all thought I could only build toys for kids. Then I show up in a 60-foot-tall Mecha with an army of action figures behind me and utterly annihilate the entirety of the Slaughterhouse Nine. Well, almost the entirety. I did something special for Bonesaw… For little Riley…"

"Oh, God…" Batgirl gaped in horror. "What'd you do, Sean?!"

I rolled my eyes, "I didn't kill her, Babs. Have some faith in me. No, I even used another invention of mine to completely revert and reject the damage that had been done to her mind. Shun Shun Rikka is absolute OP and I still love that hairclips count as toys. Hell, I even adopted her and helped her work through her trauma."

"Awwww~!" Harley cooed excitedly. "Daddy Gothboy sounds adorable~!"

"Sorry, Sean," Batgirl looked down in shame. "It's just… after everything you've told us about this world, I thought…"

"Unfortunately, that's fair," I nodded with a wince. "Earth Bet is still one of the most grimdark worlds I've ever visited."

"Okay! Let me recap — just to see if I've got this all correct," Vicki said, setting her pen down with a thud. "You're from another world."

"Many other worlds," I corrected. "But you might have already known that."

Vicki nodded, "I did. Again, this is just a recap for my own purposes… Not that anyone's going to believe me…"

The scowl that accompanied her last sentence quickly reversed into stubborn determination, "Regardless! This particular world — refer to Section: Entities, Sub-section: What, Header: the Fuck — was plagued by a roving gang of murder hobos. They were proficient enough to put a sizable dent in the American population. Would you say that's accurate, Mr. Caine?"

"Yep, that sounds about right so far," I agreed.

"In this world, you were a hero named Toymaker. You made toys. But you could also extend that 'power' to cover licensed toys and items from fiction — so long as they were recognizable enough to be potentially made into toys. The public didn't know your full capabilities.

"So when another hero was targetted by the murder hobos, you intervened. In a giant robot. And killed them all… almost all of them. In accordance with the lawfully given Kill Order on the group."

I nodded and she continued, "One of the group — a young girl who was being coerced in ways that can't and shouldn't be understated —, you spared, healed, and adopted as your daughter.

"You have also mentioned using a planet-killing weapon to solve this world's Entity problem at a later date, not explicitly included in your story. As well as the fact that you could have potentially created Lantern Rings. Does all of this sound accurate? And can I take it as your official statement?"

"For all the good it will do you, yeah," I said, chuckling.

Vicki scowled again, "I'll make the people believe me somehow!"

"You won't. But I'll always welcome the free press."

"Uh, others might not believe your reporting but I could certainly use it," Batgirl interjected. "I'm already dreading having to write a report on this 'Slaughterhouse Nine'. Your notes would be very helpful, Miss Vale. I'll be sure to credit you and your work will likely end up in the Justice League's files."

"Teacher~! Teacher~!" Harley teased in a singsong voice. "Girl-Bat is trying to copy Vicki's homework~!"

"Now, now, Miss Quinn," I said soberly, playing my part in her bit. "No one likes a snitch. Please stay after class."

"Oh, no~!" Harley gasped over-dramatically. "Goth Teacher Boy is giving me detention! Red, you have to save me~!"

"You know the rules, Harley," Ivy shook her head faux-somberly. "Snitches get stitch-… er, probably spankings in this case."

"Noooooooouuuuuuuu~!" Harley performed a theatrical 'faint' that could have rivaled the hammiest of actors.

Batgirl face-palmed, "I hate all three of you…"

Harley bounced back instantly, "Pishaw, Girl-Bat~! Don't even pretend you don't love us and how interesting we make your life~!"

Before Batgirl could reply — likely with a snippy shot back at Harley — the bar went silent. The sudden lack of noise was jarring. Jarring enough to make the whole group at the bar look around in confusion, trying to figure out what was going on.

The reason soon revealed itself. Clad in green and purple, it walked up to the bar. A group of Clownz trailed nervously behind it. The bar's many patrons parted like the Red Sea. You could have cut the tension with a knife.

The Joker stepped up to the bar. A space cleared for him as even the villains instinctively shied away. Batgirl's hand was already on her utility belt, ready to act if the Joker made any unwanted moves. Harley was pointedly not looking at him but I could see the way her eye twitched in a complete 180 of her mood. Ivy held her hand for support.

A manic grin stretched across his face, "My, my, isn't this a nice place? Seems like ~fun~ So much… crack… to be had here. It's such a shame I wasn't invited to the party…"

"You shouldn't have been able to get in here," I observed calmly. "The bar's protections should have prevented your entry specifically. It's quite interesting that you've found a way around them."

"Bah!" Joker exclaimed. "What's a little thing like self-identity before Madness?! Fickle, fickle thing that… I've noticed it's prone to changing completely at the drop of a hat."

"I think that problem is unique to you alone," I deadpanned. "Does this mean you don't claim to be the Joker anymore?"

His ever-present grin grew wider and wilder, "Oh, I'm the Joker, alright. Just maybe not the Joker you're thinking of. Or maybe I am?"

"Jack Napier? Jack Oswald White? Arthur Fleck?" I shot out potential Joker identities without blinking.

"Ohohohehehe~!" Joker cackled. "Coming out swinging, I see~! Is that all you've got, Mr. Barkeep~?"

He leaned forward across the bar as if to whisper to me, "I'll let you in on a little secret… None of the above~"

"Oh, God," I groaned. "You aren't Jared Leto, are you? Please tell me you're not Jared Leto."

Joker just grinned, "I'll never tell~ You know, you're almost as much fun as the Bat~! But it takes two to play~ So tell me, Mr. Barkeep… Who are you? A self-insert, perhaps?"

I blinked, familiar with the term but not expecting it at all, "I… don't think so…? I suppose I do show all the signs of it though. But not in any more sense than that I am myself."

"Hmm, just an Outsider then?" Joker hummed through his teeth. "How'd you get to our oh-so-humble neck of the woods?"

His fourth-wall knowledge was starting to wig me out slightly. Not that I was concerned about him revealing my 'secrets'. I was open enough about myself in the safety of my domain. But talking to someone who just KNEW more than he should was unnerving. Especially when that someone was the Joker.

I shrugged, "The normal way. Death and all that. I just drifted on by and was lucky enough to be given a chance to set down roots. I think I'll be staying for a while. This world is more than nice enough for me to retire here."

"Oh~? And what if I did something to disrupt your retirement~?" Joker's grin took on a menacing hue.

"I'd sic Batman on you," I answered easily.

Joker paused and cocked his head, "… That's it? Really? I was expecting something more from an Outside Influence. Especially one that's changed up the medium so much."

I shook my head, "I'm not a main character. At least, not in the core narrative. I'm content to be an interesting side piece. A spin-off, if you will. You're Batman's rival, not mine. And I'm not going to take that away from either of you."

A sudden burst of energy had Joker slamming his palms on the bar. Onlookers jumped, basically the whole bar at this point. They couldn't do anything but watch silently as the tension mounted, built from the Joker's reputation and the strange conversation we were having. No one dared interfere.

"That's not good enough!" Joker shouted. "Where are the stakes?! The drama?! The plot?!"

I smirked lightly, barely the quirk of my lips, "This isn't that kind of story, Joker."

"Is that so~?" Just as suddenly as the manic energy came, it went, leaving a subdued smirking menace behind. "Maybe it should be…"

"Joker," I said warningly. "Don't go starting-…"

He interrupted me, "I hear you like stories, Mr. Barkeep~ How about one more? For your retirement~? A bit of comedy~ A bit of tragedy~ Let's see if we can make your story a little more interesting~"

My voice was firm, replying to the not-quite-spoken threat with readied steel, "I think you've overstayed your welcome here."

An aura of Death radiated from my being as I prepared myself for a fight. Unseen, my domain — the entirety of the Dead End — responded to my intentions. If he made this difficult, he wouldn't be leaving here alive.

I knew he couldn't harm me. Or Didi, even if she was just about the farthest thing from a fighter. But we weren't the only ones to consider right now. There was a whole bar full of people watching, so close and so unprepared to be collateral damage.

With the Joker's propensity for cheating Death, I wouldn't feel content with anything but overkill. And I couldn't do that with the audience we had. Not for the fear of my secrets getting out, but for the innocents who would inevitably be harmed in the crossfire.

It was just simpler for me to deal with him when the opportunity was better. And I think he knew that. I hated that he'd caught me in a Catch-22.

He certainly acted casually and confidently as if he held all the cards, "This really is a nice place. You've got the whole city cooperating, playing nice with this neutrality business. Why, isn't it such a noble idea~? Not bad for an 'interesting spin-off'."

In an instant, the Joker's grin twisted into a dark sneer, "I hate it. I LOATHE this place and everything you want it to represent. I promise you this, Mr. Barkeep… I will see it brought to ruin. I will see this place destroyed. It and the dream you want it to stand for. And you'll thank me for it. Your final story will be all the sweeter with a bit of bitterness~"

The tension in the room reached a fever pitch at his words. His declaration. His threat and promise of tragedy. Neither of us moved. His grin was frozen in a rictus of Madness and Chaos. I stared him down unflinchingly.

People started to back away. Even the villains (and Batgirl) at the bar were moving away, trying to get out of any potential crossfire. But just as I was about confident in giving Joker my best shot without involving anyone else, he broke our staredown.

"C'mon, boys, we're done here. For now…" Joker announced to his goons. "We've got a Joke to prepare~!"

As he turned to leave, he had one more thing to say. A harsh, barked command, "Harley! Heel!"

"No," I cut him off instantly. "She's not going anywhere. She isn't yours anymore. She never should have been yours in the first place. But she certainly isn't anymore."

"So ya can shove all that Mister J shit up yer ass, ya unfunny, played-out, shit-fer-brains, fuckin' hack!" Harley finished for me, putting so much emotion into her shout that the bar practically shook with it.

I'll admit, it felt good to get a hit in on the Joker when my hands were tied like this. Especially with the way he nearly stumbled from Harley's shout. Hearing her talk to him like that must have been unthinkable. He turned back to look at her, just blinking in uncomprehending shock.

Then ever-so-slowly, he began to laugh, "Heh… Hehehe… OhohohoHAHAHAHA~! Oh, I'm going to enjoy breaking you all over again, my dear masterpiece~"

Harley began to shake and twitch, her brain visibly struggling to process how utterly infuriating the Joker's words were. The Joker turned to leave again, content with himself for having got the last word. I waited until he was at the door to ruin that idea for him.

"You'll die first. Lady Death has been trying to reach you about your extended life warranty for a long time now, Joker. I'm going to make sure she collects."

The Joker stepped out the door and froze mid-step, his dramatic exit ruined. I was sure that hit him harder than anything else about our conversation. Even harder than Harley breaking free of his thrall. But knowing he couldn't turn around without looking like the pettiest loser in Gotham, he resumed his step and just kept walking.

Even with the Joker gone, the silent tension still didn't leave the bar. At least, not until Didi broke it with a huff.

"By the Source, I hate that man. I do so hope he suffers eternally in whatever afterlife decides to take him."

Those closest turned to gape at her in surprise. That was just about the last thing anyone who knew her expected to hear from Didi. Despite looking so dark, Didi was a sweetheart and everybody knew it. And the way she said it with such genuine menace and (justified) hate sent chills up spines.

Two-Face whistled, "Damn, Miss Didi can be right scary when she wants to be."

"Knowing what I know about her…" Batgirl shivered. "You have no idea."

[AN: Aaaaaanndd we're back! Thank you to everyone for putting up with the slight break. Regular posting will resume now. It'll be a bit less frequent though. I'm trying for 3 chapters a week. But I also need to keep a decent backlog for my Patreon (Pat reon.com/dryskies_btb if you're interested in early chapters). Right now, the plan is to release chapters on Sunday, Tuesday, and Friday. If I have to drop it down to 2 a week, it'll probably be Sunday and Thursday. But again, 3 a week is what I'm aiming for.

On another note, this chapter went up slightly early on QQ. After the Tuesday release, both sites will be synched up and stay that way. Readers there were worried about the Joker stealing the show or me making him a recurring enemy in a way that doesn't make sense for the story. Neither of those things will be happening. Joker meets his fate quite quickly. I'll just ask you to bear with me and not jump to conclusions about me 'ruining the story'.

P.S. For the reason why Sean didn't immediately kill the Joker, I'll just raise one point. 'Cheating Death' is a quite literal canon ability the Joker has. For the Joker to stay dead, his death needs to be funny, ironic, or karmically appropriate in some way. Sean definitely can kill him (easily too) but the end of this chapter isn't as simple as Sean just letting him walk away like an idiot.