Mantis Stalks the Cicada, Oriole Waits Behind

"If I died, you'd laugh? Seriously?"

The Joker pulled a handgun from the pocket of his purple suit and waved it at Batman before pressing the barrel to his temple. "Batman, you'd better not lie to me, or I'd die for nothing."

"..." x2

An awkward silence fell.

Bruce watched the farce wordlessly. The Joker found it boring too, pointed his gun at the ceiling, and fired out a triangular "bang" flag.

"No choice. I can't die until I cure you."

The Joker grinned playfully. "It's my responsibility. Even though I've always been causing you trouble, I'm doing it for your own good. It's useless even if you refuse to admit it. I'm your most troublesome opponent and your most loyal fan. I can't stand by and watch you keep falling apart."

"Joker, don't look for excuses for your madness." Bruce rejected that kind of relationship.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk. The crazy one isn't me. It's you."

The Joker raised a finger and wagged it. "That's where your illness lies. You refuse to acknowledge me, and you refuse to acknowledge yourself. Haven't you noticed? In the eyes of the world, we're the perfect partners, a match made in heaven. All we're missing is a good screw so we can become part of each other."

"..."

Still ignored by Bruce, the Joker immediately turned resentful. "Batman, you're still so cold. But it's fine. I'll keep playing the clown who leaps around, as always, catering to you and making you look eternally great."

"..."

It was a balls-aching topic. Bruce closed his eyes, hoping he would not have nightmares tonight about being harassed by a fan.

The Joker stepped forward, pulled Bruce's eyelids open, and rattled on. "Quit pretending. You know I understand you—better than anyone. Your vigilantism has nothing to do with