Live! One Am At The Phaeton!

[makeemlaugh]

The Phaeton is one of the oldest, most famous comedy clubs in Gotham, a traditional place for hot young comics to cut their teeth. Its brass facade is broadcast throughout the country on the “One AM at the Phaeton” program, but the best comedy, aficionados say, is when the cameras are off. Its purer.

A set's just finished, and the lights dim. No one notices men in coats ease towards the exits, or anything threatening about the thin shape making its way to the stage. The MC reads his placard, “Wasn't she great folks? Loved the joke about the...well, all of them! Next up is a special guest, an old favorite under the name...E. Kelley?”

The lights go on. The clown smiles.

“Holy cats its the Joker!” A man in the audience shouts.

“Where?!” Joker turns around, shocked, and before the screams start he holds up a hand. Its Gotham, people know how to avoid sudden death by explosion. “Listen, listen, listen. I'm flattered, really, but I'm not here for WORK. There are, naturally, ah heh, precautions...I can't resist a captive audience...but, well. Sigh. Can ol'Uncle J be real with you kids for a second?”

“Who here's ever been abducted by aliens?” Joker raises his hand, and pauses, as if expecting a response. “Anyone? Hmm? You in the back? Well, I was! They wanted me for a comedian, which was actually a bit flattering...except they didn't laugh!” Joker tsks, pacing a bit. “I had to resort to physical comedy, of all things! So I thought I'd sharpen my act! To keep it simple, no one panics or calls the fuzz, we all get out of here alright. Shall we? Ahem.” Joker sprays his mouth with something, and winks.

“Anyone remember Commissioner Loeb? Big guy, white suits, kind of had that balding teacher you didn't want to leave little Stan or Susie alone with look going on? Gloriously incompetent? I miss him, I really do.” Joker looks nostalgic for a second, “But what always threw people off about the old man was, well, the cartoons. I don't know how many of you babies have been in the guy's office but it was everywhere! Mice, ducks, loved the Cashews kids. You know I kidnapped the guy who wrote those comics once, but that's a different story, the point is we're all used to cops being gruff and grim with an optional heart of gold and here's a guy who dresses and acts like everyone's creepy uncle. So I think, what's your angle Loeb? And by think I mean, you know, kidnap." Joker shrugs like this is a normal train of thought. "People just aren't direct enough you know! So I'm there, he's there, we're in one of those convenient sewer tunnels that whatever mad genius that designed this city just put EVERYWHERE, and I've even decorated a little. Ah heh, to set the mood. He barely notices, the swine, just gives the usual you'll never get away with this banter and the Bat's late, I suppose, so I just ask him, Loeb, what's with the kiddy shit?”

“The man looks at me and starts blubbering." Joker makes a little crybaby motion over his eyes, "Says he gets that all the time. He just likes them! Though it made him approachable, reminded him of good times growing up. Doesn't understand how it's any different from sports trophies or pictures of your boat or anything else and the thing, he said, about saying 'you'd never touch a kid' is that it makes a certain sort of mind all the more ready to believe you'd touch a kid and God if that wasn't true!”

“I let the guy go. What could be funnier than that?”

Comments

[soundsmith]

With the Flash's help, his parents' mansion had mostly been fixed up, but there were some things that took time. Namely, fitting it with new windows. Ultimately, he'd had to measure the windowsills and place an order (and there were a lot of windows in that place), and it was a bit drafty staying in a mansion with no windows. So, while he was waiting for them to go in, Hartley went on a road trip. And, because he was Hartley, the road trip consisted of mapping out all the big charitable events and going to each one to help out and donate a chunk of the money he'd inherited from his parents. In keeping busy, he'd found, it was easier to run away from the thoughts and memories that had been plaguing his mind.

He'd almost skipped over going to Gotham altogether, because it was Gotham, where the heroes are scary and the villains are scarier. Still, he'd ultimately decided that only meant the people of Gotham needed all the help they could get, so he planned a stop there, as well. However, not every night was focused on charity. Maybe knowing there was a comedy themed villain in Gotham, he should have avoided comedy clubs, but something about the advertising on this one had reminded him of the Trickster, so he'd gone in.

He was dressed casually, not prepared for a night of vigilante justice, though he had grabbed his tuning fork just in case he ran into trouble because Gotham was Gotham, which he had slipped into the pocket of his green hoodie. Clearly, it was too much to ask for Piper to not wear civilian clothing that wasn't strangely reminiscent of his costume.

However, after one entertaining act, there was another that he wasn't too thrilled with. Joker. Even as a villain, the Piper refused to associate with him, because the Joker seemed too dangerous and psychotic for his tastes. The fact that he had since had an incident where he'd been dosed with Joker venom had only cemented his dislike for the crown prince of crime.

He knew he should just be quiet. Train his ears for any noises that might indicate some kind of bomb or other device, and otherwise wait this through until he knew what Joker was up to. However, Hartley was really bad at shutting up when he had something to say. After a moment of listening and hearing nothing other than the people in the room, including those that were blocking the exits, Piper couldn't take it anymore.

"Eh, the Trickster was funnier."

Which was saying something, especially since his jokes frequently had just annoyed Hartley. Honestly, sometimes when he remembered how irritating the Trickster had been, he surprised himself with how much he missed those jokes now.

Still, knowing who he was insulting, he reached into his pocket and grabbed his tuning fork in case he needed it.

[follow_my_nose]

Ralph's at the bar, waiting on a couple of drinks, when the Joker's set starts. Just out for a nice quiet evening with Sue, not looking for any trouble - but they happened to be in Gotham City, where there's no such thing as a nice, quiet evening.

"Oh, for the love of.."

As the bartender slides the drinks across, Ralph takes a flask out of his jacket pocket - adding a splash of the contents, and winks at the bartender conspiratorially.

"Gingold and tonic."

He downs the drink, bracing himself for the familiar tingle.

[makeemlaugh]

"Speaking about cops, can I tell you folks something in confidence? GCPD has the reputation of being the most corrupt office in the country and I really just don't get it! I mean don't get me wrong, the average Gotham cop is lazy, poorly trained, ill equipped, unable to trust his colleagues, and in debt to at least three criminals...so, you know, a cop."

Joker paces, "But that's the thing about Gotham, we HAVE to be the best and the grittiest and the realest. I mean, God, people, Hugo Strange just turned some poor people into giant bio-monsters and we STILL act like we're above the rest of the world when it comes to that crap. We take this weird sort of pride in being the shame of the nation when really, like. Listen. Metropolis, you know where that soda tax goes? Like where you pay more in tax for a bottle of iced tea than the actual tea costs? Gosh I guess it goes to the 'repurposed' Intergang tanks and laser weapons these oh so comfortingly named 'Science Police' are using these days. Opal City's basically run by a single family, everyone with red hair and a bad attitude's a cop. The Twin Cities keep making new supervillains which is about how things go here, the new Mister Element's a hilarious story but Cold tells it better than me. In Saint Roiche they all believe in magic...which is real but also, like, kind of weird to see cops with gris-gris bags to ward off the dead?"

"If anything I think Gotham deserves credit for not going insane as the rest of this country. We're just the baseline!" Joker laughs at this, "The gold standard, if you will. Think about that when you tuck the kids in at night, folks, Harvey Bullock's the best we've got."

And then he hears the heckler. The man next to you, Piper, looks at you like you've killed him, and you may have. Joker pauses for a second.

And smirks, "Now, friend, its Current Year, you're not supposed to tease people about that sort of thing anymore. By the way, doesn't this place have a dress code?"

"You know I've got a great story about that whole thing, God knows everyone thinks I want to get under the sheets with the Bat, but I don't want to Kramer out this early..."

The bartender blinks at you doctoring the drink, Ralph, but shrugs. It's above his pay grade.

Your keen detective skills might notice one piece of the bartender's flare, a large roughly built man with a neck tattoo, is a button on his suspenders with "SMILE" written on it. He touches it once before getting back to cleaning.

[soundsmith]

"Tease people about what?" he asked, "Jokes falling flatter than puppet shows and rigged up snack bags?"

Because that was the aspect of Trickster's humor he found himself missing, not...whatever that was that Trickster had unexpectedly developed when they went on the run together. Although, part of him wondered why he was doing this. Common sense should dictate that he shouldn't draw attention to himself. And yet, here he was. He really needed to stop doing this sort of thing. Piper noticed several people sitting near him calmly and quietly move to seats a bit farther away, which probably wasn't a bad idea.

As for the rumor Joker mentioned...huh. Was that why Wally was asking him if he thought the Joker might be gay way back when? Either way, he stood by his original assessment. The Joker was too crazy to count as anything, unless 'enjoying seeing the psyche of others be completely broken before your eyes' had become a sexual orientation since he'd last checked.

He shrugged. "Dress codes at these things have gotten more lax in recent years, what can I say?"

[follow_my_nose]

Ralph's nose twitches, as he turns his focus on the bartender - letting the heckler in the crowd distract the Joker for the time being.

"What's up, Mugsly, are you a fan of this clown?" He jerks an elongated thumb at the stage.

"I don't think I have to tell you the life expectancy of your average Joker henchman, right?"

[makeemlaugh]

It was mostly just a twist on 'funny'. Low brow humor but that's what counter heckling has to be, going as dirty and mean as possible to throw the heckler off and allow the comic to get back to the show.

Joker occasionally has memories of a woman who was always smiling, even when things were hopeless, who loved that she could make him laugh. He puts a little EXTRA effort into crime when he has those particular...hallucinations.

There are a few who AREN'T moving away, either for fear of trapped seats, love of street theater, or...hey, Piper, would Joker think to have plants in the audience?

"How is a snack bag flat?" Joker answers, irritated at the little man continuing to speak. "Ugh that sounds like one of Eddy's early riddles. We get it you're stealing an elephant from Gotham Zoo! Guess what, SO DOES BATMAN! I love him, I do, but Riddler just hasn't been the same since they stole his whole shtick do to those 'SAW' movies. Can't decide if he wants to be Central City or Gotham City, you know?"

The heckler interrupts again. Joker's pause is a bit longer this time, and then he really LOOKS at you, Piper. "Speaking of Central City, I think I recognize that red hair and 'look how thrifty I'm dressing, fellow poors!' fashion sense. Hartley, is that you? Quick let's check, what do you use to beat the fastest man alive? Is it rats? Just a lot of rats?"

Meanwhile the bartender raises an eyebrow at the accusation, wiping a glass. "Lotta people who work at a comedy club like to smile, pal. Cides if I was a Joker thug wouldn't I have poisoned your drink a'somethin by now? Club policy is if a supervillain wants to put on a show we indulge 'em till the cops show up, keeps the body counts lower."

[soundsmith]

"Actually, I never used the rats on the Flash. With the Flash, I preferred using hypnotic tunes to get him to dance to my rhythm."

Oh, those were the days. But all that was behind him now, of course.

"And then, of course, in a pinch I could use one particular frequency that makes a person's muscles lock up, temporarily paralyzing a person."

Aside from himself, of course. It might be that his hearing was technically mechanical, therefore the sound processed differently for him, but regardless, the important part was the fact that he didn't paralyze himself every time he used to attack. It was only a short term effect, but it would give him the upper hand if he needed to use it.

Hartley pulled his tuning fork out, resting it on the table, though still keeping his grip on the handle in case he had to use it.

"Just in case you or your henchmen decide to try anything."

Sure, his flutes were far more sophisticated tools, but he didn't happen to have those with him at the moment, so he'd have to make due.

[follow_my_nose]

Ralph nods to the bartender.

"Probably a wise policy. Just stay down behind the bar if anything starts happening, right?"

An extended arm dips behind the bar, coming up with a deadly anti-clown weapon .. a seltzer bottle.

"I'm going to borrow this."

[makeemlaugh]

"Ugh, here we go. Thing about Central City supercrime, folks, they've all got this powers hangup. Most of them don't HAVE powers, or at least not ones worth describing all the time, but they can go on and on like they've got some complicated metaphorical THING. I mean, alright, it's not Poison Ivy bad but tell me, folks, did you really need anything more than 'sound gun'?" Joker gestures with his hands, putting a little Williams into his act.

"Besides, Hartley, bombs don't have ears." It could be a bluff. Maybe.

"But I've always wanted to ask you, Hartley, how does that even work? Doesn't the Flash run faster than sound?" Joker seems sincerely curious, for whatever reason. "Or is that why you 'retired'? I was never into sonics, to be honest, before I got this gorgeous makeover I was a chemist. Maybe."

"Pretty good at it, to be honest, but it was so DULL. I mean no matter what you do, a chemical reacts a certain way, you know? No variety. Not like people."

Joker pauses for a long second, suddenly a thousand miles away.

The bartender raises an eyebrow at the superhero taking a seltzer bottle, but shrugs. Not his problem. "You break it, you buy it, pal."

[soundsmith]

Hartley wanted to object that he did not merely have a 'sound gun' (though he did use sound guns), but that he also had modified flutes as well as a variety of other instruments he'd created over the years, some of which defied classification, and that wasn't even going into the tuning fork he had. However, he realized that would be playing into what the Joker was saying. As much as he wanted the world to know that sound was the most amazing thing ever, he wasn't going to sit here and argue with the Joker about it.

Especially since he was worried about that bomb comment, and it showed by the look on his face. Joker was crazy enough that he might have a bomb in here, after all, so Hartley wasn't about to dismiss anything.

After a moment of worrying about the possible bomb, Hartley noticed Joker was asking him more questions. "Sure, he's faster than sound, but that wasn't why I quit. I still managed to catch him by surprise sometimes, after all."

Not that he felt like getting into why he reformed. To be honest, he doubted Joker would be capable of understanding. His reasons, after all, mostly had to do with realizing that the Flash was in very real danger when he went after super criminals, and realizing that he didn't want to see Wally hurt. It came out of a desire for friendship. So in other words, nothing Joker had experience with. And so he gave a non-answer.

"Who knows? Maybe the Twin Cities just have better mental health programs. I'd suggest you check them out sometime, but somehow I think you might be beyond help."

[follow_my_nose]

That kid hassling the Joker must have more guts than brains, or.. wait, was that Hartley? The Pied Piper? Ralph suddenly felt a little bit better about this situation.

Seltzer bottle in hand, he goes low to the ground, his stretchable eyes and ears searching the place for this aforementioned bomb, while deftly weaving in and out around tables, chairs, and the occasional patron's leg.

If there was a bomb, he'd find it - eventually.

[makeemlaugh]

Look at Joker, Hartley. He KNOWS you want to nerd out about sound.

His grin twitches a bit as Piper mentions mental care. "They say Arkham's built on cursed ground, you know. Never explained why they don't MOVE the damn place, it's not like the Waynes don't have the money. I mean Martha Wayne was a KANE, that's two of the biggest fortunes in town smashing together. Embarrassing."

"I do note that a lot of Flash 'rogues' tend to go straight for a few years. Didn't Cold have a bounty hunting company with his sister? Shame what happened to her." Joker says with faux sincerity, "They always snap back, though. I wonder how long you have, Hartley?"

Joker's smile twitches as a plan comes together. Later, though. The people are...kind of blaise at the bomb threat.

It IS Gotham, but really.

Meanwhile, Ralph's clever move isn't bringing up any real dividends. Did Joker lie about his escape incentive? Probably not completely; Ralph knows Joker's files well enough to know that while the clown acts like his crimes are utterly improvised sometimes, he's actually a meticulous planner and never, ever goes in public without an escape plan. Someone must have triggered a silent alarm by now, furthermore, and Joker has to be stalling for time for SOME reason.

Near an air vent, Ralph can hear it. Is that...digging under the floor? Voices, definitely. But what would people want in a comedy club's basement?

"I mean they say there are criminal tendencies in everyone. I suppose I believe that." Joker paces, as if seriously considering this. "As much as we'd like to think we're evolved to be so law abiding and civilized, all you need to do is go to LA during riot season to see the real face of the species."

Joker pauses for a long moment, and leans back. "You know, that reminds me of my favorite story about motherly love. Would you all like to hear it? Not that, ah hah, you have much of a choice..."

"...it all starts with yours truly lying low one fine evening. You see the Justice League was a little, ah, upset about a caper of mine...who knew they were all so attached to the little librarian?...and what could politely be called a manhunt was out for me. What's worse, thanks to the BASE TREACHERY of a few of my associates, many of my hidden assets were, ah hah, less so. So there I was, tired, hunted by the most powerful team of super zeroes on the planet, and worst of all broke. It takes a lot of money to play on my stage, folks. Hell, I was down to one henchman!"

"Fortunately, I had a little something up my sleeve. It had been originally intended for play, but it could work for me. A...friend in the department of defense arranged for it to fall into my possession." Joker hugs himself at the memory, the thrill of that much power under his hilarious thumb. "My very own nuclear powered cruise missile!"

"Sure I had to sell it, but it warmed my heart that it'd make SOMEONE unhappy."

[follow_my_nose]

Oh, ho!

Narrowing the folds of his left ear, Ralph sends it coursing down through the ventilation system, past a VERY confused rat, following the sounds of those voices.

"Just what the hell is the clown up to? Think, Ralph - nearby banks, jewelry stores..." he murmurs.

[soundsmith]

When Joker brought up the possibility of him 'snapping back' and Golden Glider's death, Hartley just glared. As far as he was concerned, Joker had no idea what he was talking about with either subject. He wasn't going to snap back.

Sure, things had gotten a bit...rockier than when he initially reformed. More ambiguous as to what side of the law he was on. He'd had a few incidents that led him to be on the run from the law, or in jail for a while, but for all his mistakes and failures, he'd legitimately been trying to be a good longer than any of the other Rogues that had reformed.

Through most of Joker's monologue after that point, Hartley just glared at him, though he noticed something out of the corner of his eye. Something that resembled a long, stretching band of...oh. A quick glance confirmed that apparently Elongated Man was here, and apparently trying something. Had Joker noticed yet?

Deciding he had to keep Joker distracted until his fellow audience member could get his outstretched body parts pulled back together, Hartley decided he had to keep Joker distracted.

"I fail to see what that story has to do with motherly love. But then, I doubt you can even fully grasp the meaning of the word."

Because he'd rather comment on that than the other things Joker had been talking about.

[makeemlaugh]

"Funny coming from you, Piper." Joker mutters, smiling a bit. "But it's called BUILDING A NARRATIVE."

The goons wince at that; when Joker gets shouty that's usually when a plan devolves into 'killing dudes'. He calms himself, though, continuing; he's actually got a pretty good pace on stage when not interrupted. "So my first thought is, who loves illegal nukes? Terrorists! And what do you know there was a market, some...somethings. I wasn't paying attention. Lady Shiva was training them so probably SOMETHING with Ra's. Their big plan was to aim the thing at Tel Aviv and just fire. Hilariously simple!"

"I'd have watched if I didn't take a cut from Mossad to put the thing together wrong. And then....he showed up."

"I mean WHAT was Batman doing in the Arabian desert?" Joker gestures wildly with his hands, "I crossed the ocean to get AWAY from that caped lunatic, and there he is with his little acrobat friend..."

"...which is where mothers came in. As I found out later, Robin was LOOKING for his. The Mossad agent was apparently one of his three candidates. Along with Lady Shiva. Hah, like she's ever..."

Meanwhile, downstairs!

Ralph, you hear three men working.

"So why are we doing this?" One says.

"I told you, Chico, the boss says there's some cache down here. We're digging while he's distracting everyone."

"So why the bombs?"

A pause.

"Harpo, what does a comedian do when he preforms really well?"

"Eat?"

The three laugh at that for a while, and then the leader says, "Just remember not to start the timer until we fold old Boss Cobblepot's safe. Joker has plans for that stuff..."

"Penguin keeps his shit down here?"

"No, fool! His great-grandpa, back in the 19th century, before the Cobblepots lost everything the first time..."

[follow_my_nose]

That's all Ralph needs to hear. His ear slips back through the ducts as he formulates a quick plan..

One cocktail napkin and an ink pen later, he's concocted a short note to Piper : 'Keep stalling, I will take care of the bombs!' and slipped it onto a chair near Hartley where a table will block the Joker's line of sight.

And with that, he moves along the floor, towards the basement access.

[soundsmith]

'Funny coming from you?' And what was that supposed to mean. Joker hadn't said it loudly, but with his cochlear implants and ability to read lips, Piper was able to catch the comment. His glare deepened the second the words came out of Joker's mouth.

Granted, there were quite a few things he could have been referring to, Piper honestly had absolutely no idea how much Joker knew about him. He could be referring to the fact that his parents had disowned him for quite a few years before Flash and he had rescued them, and Flash helped convince them to accept him. He could be referring to the fact that his parents were dead. He could even be referring to the fact that many people had believed it was Piper himself who killed them, if Joker was unaware that it had turned out to be Mirror Master who did it.

Quite simply, Hartley had no idea how much information on him Joker had, especially since pretty much all of it could be discovered through a google search. Namely because, like his identity, he made no effort to keep these things secret. Most of what he knew about Joker himself was second hand knowledge, and he assumed the same was true in reverse. Although, he did know what Joker venom felt like first hand. As if though that particular jail sentence hadn't been hard enough on Hartley...

However, seeing the note on the napkin, Hartley realized he needed to stop dwelling on what the Joker may or may not know and focus on keeping him distracted. At the same time, he continued to keep an eye on any of Joker's obvious henchman that were keeping the audience from making a run for it.

Casually resting his foot on the napkin, just in case someone else caught a glimpse of it who might react, Hartley actually let the narrative continue. Joker seemed to be caught up in it, and it seemed like a long build up, and any interruptions now might only get him to cut to the chase. Or make him angry enough to move up his plans. Still, he was keeping an eye on Joker, and ready to pipe up and slow things down on a moment's notice should Joker's act seem like it was getting too far along.