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The Joker sat distractedly in his hideout. He had hired new henchmen earlier in the week, having decided before the heist that the other three were too incomptent to actually escape said heist. He had been right too...painfully so. One of the annoyances had been taken down by an angry mother that had been trained in a bit of Jiu Jitsu. He appreciated the irony; picking on a woman only to find that she is better at the game than you. The other two asked too many questions and he shot them. How hard is it to grab money and level guns at police men? Apparently it was far too difficult for them to get right. Anyway, the new henchmen were waiting when he got back.
"You're late, clown," said a large heavy set man, that reminded the Joker of a hippo.
The Joker glared and snarled, quickly knocking the man off his feet, so that he was kneeling on top of him, a trade mark leer splitting his face as he stuck a gun in the man's mouth, "Say," he sneered, "you're a lot of talk. I'm not sure if I like it, you work for me now. Understand? You are about as high on the totem pole as my dogs, and if you ask me...," he licked his lips and grinned, "it's about time you got de-barked."
The man paled and let out a muffled yell, thrashing under the Joker. Although larger, he did not have the advantage of a crazy man's adrenaline rush and was kept held down. The protestations were cut off with a, "Bang!" And followed by a mad cackle.
The Joker stood up over the dead man and sighed, "Things do go wrong in surgeries," he put a hand to his head in a false salute before whirling on the other newcomer.
"Well, what are you waiting for?" He snarled. "Pick up that mess, throw it out to sea and get back toot sweet. Got it?"
The Joker glared darkly as the other man ran from his spot, which the clown noted with glee had a puddle where his feet had been, the man actually wet himself! Oh, he was good. He smiled self indulgently and fixed his lapels, his head raising a bit in pride.
The henchman dragged his former comrade from the building, a red trail left in his wake. Joker paused after a moment of thought, "By the way, boy, what is your name?" He questioned, in a far more civil tone.
The man looked up from his work, about to exit, he was pale and sweating bullets. He gulped and stuttered in response, "Ph-Philip."
The Joker nodded, "I like it...just generic enough." He smiled and Philip high tailed it out of the warehouse. The Joker then slumped and walked over to his room so that he could properly tend to his wounds, all adrenaline sucked from his body in a moment.
_________________ Heavens no. Hell Yeah.  Set 1: Nurr | Set 2: Me
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