"Hehehehahaha! I like this guy. He's hilarious! Look at how crazy he is—I worship him!"
At Crimson Cape Pier, far from downtown Gotham City, cold wind blew through the broken roof of an abandoned warehouse.
A layer of white snow covered the ground, and beside it stood a burning oil drum for warmth. The flames inside swayed unsteadily in the cold wind.
The Joker, wearing an absurdly oversized brown trench coat, sat cross-legged on the couch with a bucket of popcorn in his arms. Pointing at the television in front of him, he laughed so hard he nearly toppled over.
"Joker, you're the best! Oh, I love you!"
The Joker stared excitedly at the other Joker on the TV screen, laughing with such joy that he looked like a diehard fan watching his beloved team make it into the World Cup.
Behind him, inside a huge glass fish tank, Hugo Strange had his hands and feet bound in chains and an oxygen mask over his face. He frowned and struggled twice.
What went around came around. Strange had once treated the Joker's corpse as a collectible, preserving it with embalming chemicals.
Now, Strange had become the Joker's exhibit.
However, the Joker had not managed to get any suitable embalming chemicals. Mainly because Strange was still alive, the Joker had simply stolen several barrels of antifreeze lubricant from the factory next door and sealed Strange inside the fish tank.
The Joker had clearly forgotten to give Strange anything to eat. Fortunately, Strange was strong enough, and the oxygen tank had a water tube, allowing him to hold out for so many days without starving to death.
Strange no longer had the energy to struggle. He had no strength left, so he simply closed his eyes. Out of sight, out of mind.