For the Joker, demanding that Batwoman hit him was practically a normal part of life, as indispensable to him as salt was to cooking.
The Dark Knight, however, did not make a move, because he knew that unless absolutely necessary, any act that fulfilled the Joker's wishes was inadvisable.
If the Joker was satisfied, he would only push things further and act even crazier.
The only way to deal with this guy was to make him hold it in, leave him unsatisfied, deprive him of amusement and interest, and finally make him abandon this game out of boredom. That was the best way to make use of him.
So Batwoman's feet seemed rooted outside the cell. She merely watched the Joker inside continuously tug at his own face as though she were watching a patch of air.
The Joker could not stand being ignored, especially by Batwoman, so he began slapping his own face harder, first with his palms, then with his fists.
"Hit me! Come in and hit me! Hurry up! If you don't hit me, I won't tell you that great idea! Come on!"
"."
Outside the pitch-black cell, Batwoman still did not move. She could not even be bothered to speak. Instead, she turned her gaze toward the underground river nearby, as though the splashing water were particularly beautiful.
After the two sides remained deadlocked for ten seconds, the Joker began smashing his head against the wall in his cell. Seeing that Batwoman had not moved, he started yanking at his own hair, scattering green strands everywhere.
"Why aren't you curious? Why won't you hit me? Don't you want to save those pathetic spandex-wearing friends of yours? You think hitting someone for no reason is wrong, but hitting me could save more people. Isn't that the Superhero