Seasonal Bro-Flavour Goodness
It was four thirty six in the morning which was, according to the Jokester, too early for it to officially be Christmas.
It was also too late for most criminal activity, and too early for honest work.
It was exactly the right time for the pavements to turn into solid sheets of ice and exactly the wrong time for anyone to attempt to look normal.
All of these facts combined to make the two men wandering through the quiet part of Gotham’s extensive docks stick out like a clown and a dispossessed billionaire taking a stroll through dingy alleyways.
“-and anyway, a scarf does not count as a disguise.”
“Of course it does pumpkin-pie!”
“We’re going to get shot.” The taller man stated in a tone of extreme resignation. “Because I refuse to believe that there isn’t at least one sniper here smart enough to work out that only a mad idiot would wear a bright yellow mackintosh and a scarf covered in smilie faces……”
“Weeeeeeell if you want to get aaaaaaaaall paranoid Ultraman can uh probably spot your shiney bald head from space-”
Alex Luthor tugged his hat down over his ears and considered the possibility of lining it with lead.
“I suh-poooooose you could stick a load of lead foil in there…..” The Jokester mused, rolling his eyes up and tapping a finger against his lips in a parody of deep thought. “But uh I think even ol’ Ultra-dork might be smart enough to ummmmm figureyou’retheonlyguydumbenoughtoleadlinehisskull-”
“I would not-” Alex protested.
“And it’d probably dye your head greeeeeen-”
“Which is irrelevant because I am not-”
“Deh-finately not a good colour for a cranium-”
“Jackie I am not going to-”
“But if you hung around with all those conspiracy nuts no one would notice one more looney with his head wrapped in-”
“Shut up Jackie.” Luthor growled.
The clown dropped into a melodramatic posture that was probably supposed to convey the fact that his friend’s lack of tact had permanently wounded him to the very soul. He held it for three seconds before giving up and sticking his tongue out.
“You,” He said in a passable impression of Dr Crane’s diagnoses. “Are just sore because your robot got blown up.”
“I am not.” Luthor huffed.
“Are too!”
Alex manfully resisted the urge to get drawn into the Jokester version of a pantomime scene. He scowled at the middle distance, Jackie grinned.
“You so are.” The Jokester sang, skipping ahead.
“I am not.”
“You are times a zillion.”
“I am noh-” Luthor began.
His retort was cut off when he slipped on a patch of ice and fell flat on his face. Alex sighed into the snow and waited for the laughter to start. When it didn’t he pushed himself up and found he was a lot closer to the Jokester’s concerned expression than he’d rather be.
Alex Luthor, hero of America, Leader of Justice Underground and continual thorn in Ultraman’s side did not scramble madly backwards at the sight. Because that would have been undignified.
“You ok?”
“Yes. I’m fine Jackie.”
“Sure?”
“Yes.” Luthor insisted.
The Jokester considered this, managing to keep a rather serious expression on his face for a grand total of six seconds. Then he started giggling.
Alex got to his feet, dusted off his mildly offended dignity and wondered whether he should do something about his companion’s fit of hysterics. Then again Three-Face had had some very strong opinions about the use of sedatives-
“I’m from Metropolis.” He explained a little testily. “We don’t get snow.”
“No snow?” Jackie gasped. “Seriously?!”
“Seriously.” Alex confirmed.
“So you-uh must have had it shipped in from Alaska in forty two gazillion thermos flasks right?” The Jokester reasoned.
Luthor reflected that Jackie would be a lot less worrying if he wasn’t so earnest about ideas morons on acid would have dismissed as ridiculous.
“No.”
“Weather machine?”
“No.”
“City-sized refrigerator?”
“No.”
“Reeeeeeeally?”
“Yes!”
“You suuuuuuuuuure about that?”
“Jackie I did not imprison an entire city in a giant refrigerator for Christmas.” Luthor assured him.
“You could have forgotten.” The Jokester suggested.
“I don’t think it’s the sort of thing people generally forget.”
“So you never got snow? Not ever?! No sledging, no snow ball fights, no snow men, no missing school cos the tram lines froze solid, no trying to start avalanches over the Mayor’s house-”
“No.” Luthor confirmed.
“But that’s awful!” The Jokester declared. “Why didn’t anyone do something?”
“We had politicians that didn’t want to warp the laws of nature.” Alex deadpanned.
“But that’s silly! Just because you can’t walk on ice and it’s so eeeeeeeeeaasiiiiiiieeeeeee-”
Alex came out of mourning for his recently deceased robot long enough to realise that this was not a good direction for a conversation with the Jokester to be going.
“We are not going in the sea. At all.”
“Whyyyyyyyy?”
“You’ll catch hyperthermia and die and then Three-Face-”
“And Eddie-” Jackie interrupted.
“Three-Face and Eddie-” Alex corrected.
“And Harley-” The Jokester added.
“And the rest of your harem of insane deviants will kill me in the most horrible way they can dream up.” Luthor finished.
“Not the-”
Alex cut him off. “I really don’t want to know.”
The Jokester sulked in protest for almost an entire minute. Luthor used the sudden silence to try and work out if they were in roughly the right area to start looking for bits of fried robot. It had been a good robot, a useful, information stealing robot that hadn’t deserved its explosive demise hundreds of feet above Gotham. Wondering whether the robot had actually managed to record anything useful was a rather distracting train of thought. So he didn’t notice Jackie’s sudden grin and the way he’d started riffling through his pockets until the maniac slid past on slippers he’d adjusted to skates with inventive use of a screwdriver and an over abundance of sticky tape.
Luthor made a noise that was significantly higher pitch then usual. The Jokester separated his whoops of joy with short periods of cackling and if he heard anything his friend yelled after him he ignored it in favour of risking his neck for a little fun.
Alex tried to stay calm. After all the Jokester might be completely crazy….crazy enough to pick fights with Owlman……crazy enough to lack a proper idea of reality……..crazy enough to do really stupid things for absolutely no reason and-
Clearly the idiot was incapable of going outside without almost getting himself killed. The only reason he hadn’t succeeded yet was because Three-Face, Eddie and the rest of their little crime fighting mental health support group stuck to him like glue. In fact now that Alex thought about it they rarely seemed to let the Jokester out alone, probably so that one of them would always be there to stop him if he looked like he was going to do something so incredibly insane that he’d-
Oh. Crap.
“JACKIE!”
The clown skidded round a corner with a graceful swirl. Luthor ran after him, over balanced, almost broke his nose and decided to continue at a more sedate pace. Of course that would give the Jokester more time to think of something really incredibly mad-
He half expected to find Jackie conducting a string quartet, a pipe organ and a jazz band. He was a little disappointed to discover the Jokester hanging upside down from a street light.
Alex blinked a few times, decided he probably wasn’t hallucinating and wondered how a human being would discover they could support their bodyweight using only their ankles. The Jokester cleared his throat.
“OOOOOOOOH NO!” He declared, in his high pitched distressing-damsel impression. “I seem to be TRAPPED by this NEFARIOUS DEVICE!!! If only there was a HERO nearby to SAVE ME!!!!”
Alex resisted the urge to put his head in his hands.
Jackie grinned down at him expectantly.
There wasn’t really a way around it…….
“I’m off duty.” Alex told him.
The Jokester pouted. “But Ah-leeeeeeeexxxxx-”
“Off duty.”
“Puh-lllleeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaase?”
“Till January.”
The Jokester folded his arms and, for a full grown man hanging by his ankles, did a fair imitation of a stroppy six year old.
“That’s not fair! It’s almost Christmas and you won’t even rescue me!”
The Riddler would have known the one sensible response to that-
“I uh-” Luthor dithered.
“Three-Face always rescues me…….. Say what time is it?”
“Almost five, why-”
“WHAT?!!” A staged look of shock plastered itself over Jackie’s face, vanishing briefly when he flipped back down to the street. “Ohmygod I’ve gotta get six geese, a salmon, a nutroast and a dozen rats in the oven!”
“Rats?” Asked Alex who couldn’t help himself.
“Ivy’s doing something to venus flytraps again.” The Jokester explained.
“Wonderful.” Alex muttered.
“Awwwwwwww you’re all upset because we didn’t find your robot aren’t you?”
“I am ‘upset’,” Luthor began loftily. “Because it means that Owlman probably has it.”
“Awwwwww sweeeeetie!” The Jokester sighed sympathetically, drabbing an arm over Alex’s shoulders. “It’s not so bad! Look on the bright side!”
“The bright side?”
“Sure! Fresh snow! Roast goose! Presents! Shoe-horning Talon into the Santa suit for the little side-kicks! And Molotov cocktails for tea!”
Alex couldn’t quite help smiling. “Merry Christmas clown.”
“Merry Christmas baldy.”
It was also too late for most criminal activity, and too early for honest work.
It was exactly the right time for the pavements to turn into solid sheets of ice and exactly the wrong time for anyone to attempt to look normal.
All of these facts combined to make the two men wandering through the quiet part of Gotham’s extensive docks stick out like a clown and a dispossessed billionaire taking a stroll through dingy alleyways.
“-and anyway, a scarf does not count as a disguise.”
“Of course it does pumpkin-pie!”
“We’re going to get shot.” The taller man stated in a tone of extreme resignation. “Because I refuse to believe that there isn’t at least one sniper here smart enough to work out that only a mad idiot would wear a bright yellow mackintosh and a scarf covered in smilie faces……”
“Weeeeeeell if you want to get aaaaaaaaall paranoid Ultraman can uh probably spot your shiney bald head from space-”
Alex Luthor tugged his hat down over his ears and considered the possibility of lining it with lead.
“I suh-poooooose you could stick a load of lead foil in there…..” The Jokester mused, rolling his eyes up and tapping a finger against his lips in a parody of deep thought. “But uh I think even ol’ Ultra-dork might be smart enough to ummmmm figureyou’retheonlyguydumbenoughtoleadlinehisskull-”
“I would not-” Alex protested.
“And it’d probably dye your head greeeeeen-”
“Which is irrelevant because I am not-”
“Deh-finately not a good colour for a cranium-”
“Jackie I am not going to-”
“But if you hung around with all those conspiracy nuts no one would notice one more looney with his head wrapped in-”
“Shut up Jackie.” Luthor growled.
The clown dropped into a melodramatic posture that was probably supposed to convey the fact that his friend’s lack of tact had permanently wounded him to the very soul. He held it for three seconds before giving up and sticking his tongue out.
“You,” He said in a passable impression of Dr Crane’s diagnoses. “Are just sore because your robot got blown up.”
“I am not.” Luthor huffed.
“Are too!”
Alex manfully resisted the urge to get drawn into the Jokester version of a pantomime scene. He scowled at the middle distance, Jackie grinned.
“You so are.” The Jokester sang, skipping ahead.
“I am not.”
“You are times a zillion.”
“I am noh-” Luthor began.
His retort was cut off when he slipped on a patch of ice and fell flat on his face. Alex sighed into the snow and waited for the laughter to start. When it didn’t he pushed himself up and found he was a lot closer to the Jokester’s concerned expression than he’d rather be.
Alex Luthor, hero of America, Leader of Justice Underground and continual thorn in Ultraman’s side did not scramble madly backwards at the sight. Because that would have been undignified.
“You ok?”
“Yes. I’m fine Jackie.”
“Sure?”
“Yes.” Luthor insisted.
The Jokester considered this, managing to keep a rather serious expression on his face for a grand total of six seconds. Then he started giggling.
Alex got to his feet, dusted off his mildly offended dignity and wondered whether he should do something about his companion’s fit of hysterics. Then again Three-Face had had some very strong opinions about the use of sedatives-
“I’m from Metropolis.” He explained a little testily. “We don’t get snow.”
“No snow?” Jackie gasped. “Seriously?!”
“Seriously.” Alex confirmed.
“So you-uh must have had it shipped in from Alaska in forty two gazillion thermos flasks right?” The Jokester reasoned.
Luthor reflected that Jackie would be a lot less worrying if he wasn’t so earnest about ideas morons on acid would have dismissed as ridiculous.
“No.”
“Weather machine?”
“No.”
“City-sized refrigerator?”
“No.”
“Reeeeeeeally?”
“Yes!”
“You suuuuuuuuuure about that?”
“Jackie I did not imprison an entire city in a giant refrigerator for Christmas.” Luthor assured him.
“You could have forgotten.” The Jokester suggested.
“I don’t think it’s the sort of thing people generally forget.”
“So you never got snow? Not ever?! No sledging, no snow ball fights, no snow men, no missing school cos the tram lines froze solid, no trying to start avalanches over the Mayor’s house-”
“No.” Luthor confirmed.
“But that’s awful!” The Jokester declared. “Why didn’t anyone do something?”
“We had politicians that didn’t want to warp the laws of nature.” Alex deadpanned.
“But that’s silly! Just because you can’t walk on ice and it’s so eeeeeeeeeaasiiiiiiieeeeeee-”
Alex came out of mourning for his recently deceased robot long enough to realise that this was not a good direction for a conversation with the Jokester to be going.
“We are not going in the sea. At all.”
“Whyyyyyyyy?”
“You’ll catch hyperthermia and die and then Three-Face-”
“And Eddie-” Jackie interrupted.
“Three-Face and Eddie-” Alex corrected.
“And Harley-” The Jokester added.
“And the rest of your harem of insane deviants will kill me in the most horrible way they can dream up.” Luthor finished.
“Not the-”
Alex cut him off. “I really don’t want to know.”
The Jokester sulked in protest for almost an entire minute. Luthor used the sudden silence to try and work out if they were in roughly the right area to start looking for bits of fried robot. It had been a good robot, a useful, information stealing robot that hadn’t deserved its explosive demise hundreds of feet above Gotham. Wondering whether the robot had actually managed to record anything useful was a rather distracting train of thought. So he didn’t notice Jackie’s sudden grin and the way he’d started riffling through his pockets until the maniac slid past on slippers he’d adjusted to skates with inventive use of a screwdriver and an over abundance of sticky tape.
Luthor made a noise that was significantly higher pitch then usual. The Jokester separated his whoops of joy with short periods of cackling and if he heard anything his friend yelled after him he ignored it in favour of risking his neck for a little fun.
Alex tried to stay calm. After all the Jokester might be completely crazy….crazy enough to pick fights with Owlman……crazy enough to lack a proper idea of reality……..crazy enough to do really stupid things for absolutely no reason and-
Clearly the idiot was incapable of going outside without almost getting himself killed. The only reason he hadn’t succeeded yet was because Three-Face, Eddie and the rest of their little crime fighting mental health support group stuck to him like glue. In fact now that Alex thought about it they rarely seemed to let the Jokester out alone, probably so that one of them would always be there to stop him if he looked like he was going to do something so incredibly insane that he’d-
Oh. Crap.
“JACKIE!”
The clown skidded round a corner with a graceful swirl. Luthor ran after him, over balanced, almost broke his nose and decided to continue at a more sedate pace. Of course that would give the Jokester more time to think of something really incredibly mad-
He half expected to find Jackie conducting a string quartet, a pipe organ and a jazz band. He was a little disappointed to discover the Jokester hanging upside down from a street light.
Alex blinked a few times, decided he probably wasn’t hallucinating and wondered how a human being would discover they could support their bodyweight using only their ankles. The Jokester cleared his throat.
“OOOOOOOOH NO!” He declared, in his high pitched distressing-damsel impression. “I seem to be TRAPPED by this NEFARIOUS DEVICE!!! If only there was a HERO nearby to SAVE ME!!!!”
Alex resisted the urge to put his head in his hands.
Jackie grinned down at him expectantly.
There wasn’t really a way around it…….
“I’m off duty.” Alex told him.
The Jokester pouted. “But Ah-leeeeeeeexxxxx-”
“Off duty.”
“Puh-lllleeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaase?”
“Till January.”
The Jokester folded his arms and, for a full grown man hanging by his ankles, did a fair imitation of a stroppy six year old.
“That’s not fair! It’s almost Christmas and you won’t even rescue me!”
The Riddler would have known the one sensible response to that-
“I uh-” Luthor dithered.
“Three-Face always rescues me…….. Say what time is it?”
“Almost five, why-”
“WHAT?!!” A staged look of shock plastered itself over Jackie’s face, vanishing briefly when he flipped back down to the street. “Ohmygod I’ve gotta get six geese, a salmon, a nutroast and a dozen rats in the oven!”
“Rats?” Asked Alex who couldn’t help himself.
“Ivy’s doing something to venus flytraps again.” The Jokester explained.
“Wonderful.” Alex muttered.
“Awwwwwwww you’re all upset because we didn’t find your robot aren’t you?”
“I am ‘upset’,” Luthor began loftily. “Because it means that Owlman probably has it.”
“Awwwwww sweeeeetie!” The Jokester sighed sympathetically, drabbing an arm over Alex’s shoulders. “It’s not so bad! Look on the bright side!”
“The bright side?”
“Sure! Fresh snow! Roast goose! Presents! Shoe-horning Talon into the Santa suit for the little side-kicks! And Molotov cocktails for tea!”
Alex couldn’t quite help smiling. “Merry Christmas clown.”
“Merry Christmas baldy.”