Joker slowly narrowed his eyes. But this time, he did not hesitate and sprinted toward the parking lot exit. He had barely ducked behind a tree when he heard bursts of gunfire behind him. Big Beard had somehow produced a gun and started exchanging shots with Schiller.
Joker cursed, looked around, and spotted a fire hydrant behind the fence outside the parking lot—right behind and to Big Beard's right. He hurried over, pulled a small knife from his pocket, and pried open a gap in the hydrant. Water immediately sprayed in one direction, striking Big Beard squarely in the back.
The powerful stream staggered him. The next second, Joker saw blood burst from Big Beard's head. Schiller holstered his gun and walked over. Joker whistled and called out, "Not bad shooting."
"Better than Batman."
Joker's face immediately fell.
"You know something, don't you?" Joker tried to question Schiller.
"Even if I did, I wouldn't tell you. Go find yourself a job."
Joker's eyes darted around before he said, "Yes, I really should find a job—preferably one that could help with flood control and disaster relief. I heard another version of me is driving trucks. That sounds like a pretty good job. I'm thinking of checking out a trucking company. What do you think?"
"No," Schiller said. "You want to steal a truck too? Dream on!"
"I'm not going to steal one." Joker curled his lip. "Once Gotham floods, there won't be enough truck drivers available, but there'll be a ton of supplies waiting to be transported. Gangs aren't as reasonable as ordinary companies. By then, the trucking company's boss will be running around in circles. He'll be the one begging me to drive."
"Do you have a license?"
"Funny you should ask. After hearing that my counterpart went to drive