Carpe Terror - 1. Doctor's Orders

My first day in Arkham as an inmate proved to be even more irritating than I had assumed. The judgemental looks from my former colleagues was nothing new. My entire career had been marked by frequent bouts of derision and dismissal. I could have done without the rough handling from the helpful arresting officer; all tough talk now after taking the credit for that meddling Bat's work. But even that wasn't a new experience after a long history of self important cretins in my life. And then there it was, my cell. To call it minimalist would be an understatement; a lumpy cot that felt like it was stuffed with newspaper and a toilet behind a barely effective privacy screen. A far cry from my high rise efficiency, but that wasn't even the worst part. The worst of it was my neighbor across the hall. The cells in Arkham were all behind metal framed doors of thick bulletproof glass for obvious reasons, with very small meshwork holes drilled in the frame along the top like air holes in a shipping crate.

My hall mate had a lean solid build but what really pulled my gaze was his face for all the wrong reasons. His lips spread into a grin that seemed wider than any natural human mouth. He pressed his face against the glass door watching us like an excited child at the pet store. I saw then that in addition to his unnaturally wide toothy grin he had abnormally pale skin, like a mime on PCP. All the criminals in this city and I had to be across from the Joker. I knew I was going to hate him. And so, with no possibility of escape or even a moment out of sight of my new neighbor, I cringed at the voice that practically trilled across the hall as I waited to be grandly thrown into my new lodgings.

"Isn't it early for scarecrows Matty boy? Not that I would know, still on restriction after the...calendar incident" His eyes narrowed in a way I found inappropriate for about 6 different reasons, not to mention the sudden dip in octave as he said "calendar incident" and eyed 'Matty' the douche cop. The door to my new home let out a low hiss and slid aside, Matty shoved me in and in one smooth motion turned and rapped his club against my hall mate's door right where his manic face was pressed against the glass. The clown let out a laugh that was just this side of hysterical "You're not still mad about that? Matty, baby it was all good fun!" He snorted and flinched barely holding another fit of laughter, Matty wasn't as amused.

"Shut the fuck up you circus freak shit, swear to God I'll watch you starve to death back here!" The clown rolled his eyes, let out an exasperated groan and mumbled under his breath. Of course, Matty couldn't stand for that challenge to his dominion over Cell Bloc 3B, a textbook handitard; to use the technical term. "What was that taint rash? I can't hear you." The clown mumbled a little louder, causing Matty to rap his club against the door again "Maybe get some of that jizz out of your throat?"

suddenly the clown sprung up and slammed his face against the glass at direct eye contact with Matty, their eyes locked separated by several inches of glass "SORRY MATTY BOY!" He punched the glass as hard as he could, all of Matt's bravado shattered even if the glass was unaffected. He fell back on his ass, his club skittering across the floor stopping at my foot. The clown fell into a fit of hopeless giggles "Every single time!..." I'll admit I almost lost composure when he fell backward in a panic but I thought better of laughing at the expense of the guy in charge of my getting to eat during my stay here. I briefly looked down at the club, not much use to me still bound in the full forearm cuffs; but it was good to know that our big badass junior overlord could be so easily manipulated.

Matty scrambled to his feet and turned toward me, his face was flushed and he looked on the verge of lashing out. I was going to be really pissed if my first day I ended up a punching bag for impotent rage from this narcissistic 20 year old police academy dropout. I kept my face blank despite the wavering blend of disgust and boredom I felt at this rapidly failing display of machismo. He stalked over snatching his club up and cocked his arm back, I gave the obligatory flinch, hoping he managed to buy me a few days on morphine in this hell hole, but no hit came. I looked back in time to see him holster the club on his hip, "Hate to trash a gift from the Wizard," he sneered.

The Joker let out a shocked chuckle "Ha! He does read! Cobblepot owes me $50 waddling little pissworm!"

Matty punched the button to close my cell and struck the clown's door for the third time "Shut It! Last warning!"

The clown looked confused "I'm on your side Matty I bet that you could​ read!"

Matty stormed off clenching his fists, showing a prominent vein on his forehead. Joker flopped back on his newspaper cot folding his hands behind his head, "I hope he's on shift when I finally get bored and bust out of here, he really needs to smile more." He started giggling like he had just told the best joke in the world. I rolled my eyes and just turned over on my cot, wondering if it was possible to sleep through my sentence. I knew two things now after less than 3 hours as Arkham Asylum's newest resident: I was going to be hard pressed to find something useful out of this Joker lunatic, and I was going to make Matty's life a fear soaked paranoia fueled hell.