Team Knight - Round 6 - Play a Game (Pt.5) -Fanfic- [Nolanverse/Saw]
Title: Play a Game (Pt.5)
Author: thesingingbush
Prompt: "I can't remember when I had my first waking nightmare. They're too disturbing to call daydreams." - Devour (2005 film)
Word Count: 3,667
Characters: Herbie, Jo-Jo, Batman (briefly)
Disclaimer: I didn't see anything, I didn't hear anything, I didn't say anything, I didn't do anything, I don't own anything. As far as anyone's concerned, this is all a dream. Now try and sue that. XD ---Except for Herbie and Jo-Jo. They're mine. ^_^
Rating: PG-13 - ?
Warning: Swearing, new character (only for this part, so don't worry)
Summary: (For this Pt.) Herbie struggles with his conscience and what to do about the Joker while talking with his friend...
A/N: Sorry for the delay. It's just I knew this part wouldn't fit in the other two previous prompts, and I started to lose inspiration. And my head keeps bubbling with new stories that have nothing to do with this series. That, and I'm a procrastinator. Sorry It's also not quite the way I wanted it, so I don't think it turned out too good. Oh well. :(
((P.S.: This is also going to be (minus a cameo bit in the next part for obvious reasons, if you read this one) one of the last times you'll read about Herbie for a while. He's coming back, but not until the very end. Maybe even sooner, depending on where my muse takes me. So all of you who've read my series so far and have not liked Herbie, this is good news for you! XD I think...And all of you who did like him, don't worry. He's coming back. But not for a while, so enjoy him here for now. ^_^))
"So Steve kept saying he didn't know where he put it and I was like 'oh great, this is really bad.' You know how I said that Sheril was in total control? Well she started to freak out the second we heard the cops comin'. I mean she was really loosing it! Totally ape-shit..."
He's still talking. It's been I think two hours, and he's still talking. I don't even have a clue as to how much I was actually paying attention to. Doesn't really matter, because I don't care what he has to say right now. Not even a little bit. My mind is on worse things and rightly so. I mean come on. If you had witnessed what I did and had been the only one to do so, would you seriously be sitting here hanging on his every word?
Well, I wouldn't, and I'm not.
And I highly doubt you would either.
The stuff I know, is doing wonders to my ulcers. Not to mention my imagination. I know there is no way I'm going to be able to sleep tonight. Just no way.
...I really hope he's alright. I'm sure he is. He's a tough guy, what with those scars being proof and all. He can clearly take care of himself...I'm sure he can take care of himself...Fuck, I hope he can take care of himself.
Because if he can't, and he's really in serious danger, and Jigsaw is doing unspeakable things to him...horrible, scarring things...most likely consisting of something blunt and jagged...then...
Ohh, I don't even want to think about it.
But it'll be all my fault.
Wait, what am I saying? I had nothing to do with this. This doesn't concern me, I just happened to have seen it. It's not like I could have stopped it, or anything. It still would have happened regardless of me being there or not. And even if I told someone (who exactly I'm still working on) about it, they probably wouldn't even get to him on time anyway. They haven't yet. Ol' Saw-man tends to time his victims, from what I've read and heard through the grapevine. So much time has transpired that for all I know the Clown is dead, his body twisted and mangled in some god-awful pose from his last ditched effort to escape. (Oh. What a horrible visual that was. Shudder)
Yeah, yeah that's it. He's dead already. I'm sure of it. I'm so sure of it, I'm not even going to worry about it anymore. I mean (from what people tell me) these things the Jigsaw has them go through I think usually last a matter of minutes. It's been several hours since I saw the Joker taken. Whatever he did to him has already happened. He's dead.
Or alive.
I wouldn't be the least surprised that he would be the first and only guy to survive this weird ordeal. From the looks of him he seems to have survived a lot of things. Shit, I bet he'd still be around after Armageddon. Him and cockroaches. Oh, and twinkies. And fucking tax collectors.
....But, what if he's not okay? What if--and bare with me on this--this shit is still going on? What if he hasn't put the Clown through any of those game-thingies and is actually torturing the poor guy instead? Like, just out of boredom, or shit's and giggles, or another form of experimenting or something? Because he knew he could tough it out and keep coming back for more? He's probably got a big thick book on the worst kinds of torture, from bamboo under the fingernails to just short of skinning him alive. Oh god, maybe he's even cut off the tips of his fingers so when they find the body, they won't be able to identify him!
Oh, wait. He doesn't have any identification. Well, maybe he'd do it anyway. Just in case. Maybe to have it as a keepsake?
The bastard probably even keeps organs in jars out as decorations for his own sick amusement. Hell, I wonder what that 'doll' of his is really for. Scare tactic? Hm, maybe. Or maybe it's a hint as to what he's really into. Obviously stuff with white painted faces who have dark mysterious pasts. Woah. I just had a thought. I wonder if he's doing something not even the most depraved S&M freaks think about that involves the two of them, puppet and clown, and maybe barbed wire and metal rods?
.....Where the fuck am I going with this?
"Jesus, would you look at that? I stubbed my toe a few days ago on a fucking table leg and it's already swelled to the size of a goddamn Kiwi fruit! And the color of a radish....hey, I'm hungry. You wanna go to the old Pizza--...ohhh right. It's been blown up. Funny how I never remembered that 'til now...."
For the love of dipsticks Jo-Jo! I don't give a flying fart about your fucking fruity toe!!! Christ. I've got more important things to be thinking about than your ADD problems...
What? Oh. Right, sorry. I did it again didn't I? You have no idea who I'm talking about, do you? Sigh, of course. Well allow me to introduce to you. The non-stop jabbering motormouth over here is my friend, Jo-Jo. I call him that--or should I say we call him that--on account that his first name is Joseph and his last name is Jordan. Figure it out.
He works in the same line of business that I'm in. I hope you didn't forget what that was, because it's the thing that got me into this psychological nightmare in the first place. Anyway, ol' Jo-Jo is several years younger than me, and a bit wet behind the ears. Not to mention terribly naive which gets him into his share of amount of trouble. But he's got a heart of tarnished gold, and it helps or hinders him in whatever he does. He's a good kid and means well. But, I don't think he's cut out for this line of work, personally.
Not that he's bad at it, oh no. He's got a real knack for breaking into and hot-wiring the cars. Down to an art form I should say. (Hell, I'm taking notes from him on that.) Unfortunately, he's not so good on the whole "only do your stuff with no one else around", or especially, "if people inside, let it slide." You have no idea how many times we've had to run like hell, or if we couldn't get away, try and make a plausible excuse as to why we have a crowbar in their car door. It's funny to think about it now, but it wasn't then. Oh, fuck no. Still isn't. It wasn't doing a whole lot of good to my stress level, let alone my blood pressure. (Shit, not to mention whatever amount of hair I have left. Which, let's just say, I wish was more.) Needless to say I work alone now. We still hang out all the time, but only 'after hours'. Still, I gotta admit, I was a heck of a lot skinnier when I worked with him. Oh well.
I honestly don't know how many friends he has. But I'm pretty sure they're all about his age and maybe younger. So why in God's name he likes to hang around an old fart like me more than anyone else, I have no idea. I'm not saying I'm old, but I'm older than him. I've always felt older than what my age entails. I wonder what they says about me...
"....Uhhhm, 'Love-Bug'? Hello, are you home?"
"Huh?" Now he's waving his damn hand in front of my face. I'm not blind, Jo-Jo! I'm just not paying any attention to you.
"Are you okay?"
Shit. He knows something, he can tell. Am I that obvious? Do I offend? Am I sweating a lot? I must have been fidgeting and wiggling a shitload because I suddenly am aware that I'm not moving. And my finger hurts, why...? Oh. I was twisting my curly hair around it and now it's fucking tangled in there. Great. Yank it out, got to look normal. Yank, it, out!!
"Um, why do you ask?" I say while trying to smooth myself out. Good god, I'm just a bundle of nerves. How long was I like this before he noticed? Sweet Apple Pie, I hope he hasn't figured it out! Well of course he hasn't. nobody knows. Now just relax and pretend everything's fine!
"It's just, I've been talkin' to you for a while and you haven't said anything in response yet. Heh, kinda makes me feel snubbed and left out, ya know? Come to think of it, you look terrible. Is somethin' goin' on? Is it woman trouble? Are you having an affair with a married wo--Oh, I know! You've got a secret. You know something and you haven't told anybody yet. You can tell me! I promise not to tell, cross my heart and horseflies! Now tell me; what's goin' on?"
Count on Jo-Jo to screw up on a little ditty. I mean, 'horseflies'? Horseflies? Jesus Jo-Jo...if you don't remember what it is or what it means, don't use it.
Wait. Did he just accuse me of an affair with a married woman?? What the hell! Stop watching Jerry Springer Jo-Jo!! It rots your brain.
Shit. A secret? Oh shit. Oh shit-ohh, shit!! So he does know!! WAIT. No, he doesn't know, he suspects. Or is he faking that? Fuck if I know. Quick! Act cool, don't look guilty. He doesn't know. Pff! 'You can tell me!' my ass. Jo-Jo here can't keep a secret even if it was chained to him. I know this kid. He's hopeless at promises. But what I wouldn't give to tell another living soul. Just so I wouldn't feel so alone. I wonder, does it really matter if I tell him? He forgets things easily, maybe...
NO. What am I saying?! I can't tell him! He'll tell somebody else--most likely the next living thing he sees--then they'll tell someone then they will and so on and what not, and eventually it'll go back to Jigsaw's ears and he'll Fuckin' hunt me down and GAH!!! No. No I can't tell him. I can't tell anyone. Shit Clown, why did you have to be there at the same time as me?!? I'm going to have a stroke I just know it...
Whoopsie. Jo-Jo's looking at me strangely, I must not have said anything for a while. QUICK!! SAY SOMETHING!!!
"--Paperclips!" What the fuck?
"Uhh...what?"
"Deh--I mean, no. Nothing's going on. I never witnessed a kidnapping of the century while taking a car and am now shitting blood out of fear of what to do and if I tell anyone then I'll be ripped apart by my own flaws. I'm perfectly fine! Just ate something that didn't agree with me."
.......WOW. I couldn't have given away that I have a problem any better than what I just blurted. Why don't I just walk up to Jigsaw and say 'Here I am!! I'm a moron, kill me now!!' Shit, I'll never be a spy.
Jo-Jo's just staring blankly at me, his face seems frozen. I think I broke him. Can't blame him, I broke my ears hearing it. Out of embarrassment, I'm just staring back at him. My foot is wiggling, and I've plastered a big fake smile on my face. I think I'm blushing too. Don't even get me started on sweating.
.....We're still holding this staring contest for I believe 15 seconds straight, I'm pretty sure he's figured me out. That's it. I'm so screwed.
".........Oh, okay. Anyway what was I talking about? Oh yeah, a new couch! So like I was saying, I think we should get a leather one..."
Wait-what? He, is brushing it off and moving back to talking? What I said didn't register at all to him??
Bless him. Bless his little, blonde heart. (He's actually a brunette, but his heart is a blonde.) How nice it must be to be that blissfully unaware of everything that's going on around you. I'm so jealous I can't even look at him right now.
Although my mind's not in it, we should be talking about the whole couch thing, and I know it. Right now we're sitting on stuffing and wood that once upon a time resembled a couch. We need a new one. He said he'd pay for it this time, and as appetizing as all that sounds I just can't keep my mind on it. Hell, I can't keep it on anything but those two. I really hope he's okay, but I know deep down he's not. He's with the 'Jigsaw', after all. No one's just okay when they're with him. Oh, how I need a drink and another and another, just enough to forget this ever happened and hopefully interpret this as a hallucination from too much alcohol.
Yeah, I like that idea. Nothing says drowning out my problems and sorrows like a good six-pack and a couple shots of absinthe later. Going to have to look out for where they're being sold lately.
"Oh hey, Love-Bug! Guess what I heard today!"
I'm pretty sure Barney on the corner of Lexington and Silverrod still sells bottles of the stuff. Haven't seen him in a while but I'm sure he'll hook me up for cheaper...
"You won't believe it! I mean, only in Gotham right?! But guess this!"
Maybe if I promise to swindle him a car of his choice he'll give me a supply for free. It'd be worth it, I mean shit! I'll do anything just so I don't have to think about--
"The Joker's disappeared!!!"
If I could have spewed milk out of my nose, I would have done so then and there. I never had such a sudden heart-attack before in my life.
"What?" Oh fuck, I knew I couldn't avoid it for too long, but already!? Now?!
"Yeah, I know right?! It's nuts! His men are starting fights in the streets trying to find out where he is! I mean, murders even! It's crazy!"
I think I'm going to throw up. All this is happening because they want him back. Innocent people are getting hurt looking for him, and I know where he is, but because I'm a coward I won't say anything. Damn me! Damn me for that!
"They're going after everyone and anyone trying to find out if anybody knows where he is! They're setting houses on fire and breaking into shops, causing riots in the streets and they don't want to stop until someone who knows something will step forward and talk! Shit, he's not the only one gone neither. I've also heard that a bunch of people, including a cop have upped and vanished around the same time the Joker did! Oh and get this; apparently, Batman is looking for the Joker too! Holy shit! I don't envy the person who knows where these people are!!"
I can't help it anymore. This is making me sick to my stomach, and I feel as if I'm slowly losing my mind. So, in response to what he told me, I'm now laughing hysterically. I mean, red-in-the-face-unable-to-breathe laughing. I can't stop. Through blurred tears I see that Jo-Jo's face has dropped. I can only imagine what he thinks of me right now. But I don't care. Batman's involved now? He's looking for the Clown too?! That's it. I can't hold this in anymore. I don't want to die! I can't live with this information anymore!
"Uhh, LB?"
"Oh, ahaha! Sorry Jo! I-I'm sorry. I just --Ooowee!-- thought of something funny is all."
"Oh. Well, okay. You were always odd, I guess I shouldn't be shocked. But isn't that interesting nonetheless? I know what I'd do if I had the info everybody wanted!"
Well, now there's an interesting thing to bring up. "What would you do?" I try to ask him half interested.
"I'd pack my bags and leave town! Duh!!"
Not the answer I was hoping for. But he's right, only I don't want to leave! I like it here, it keeps me busy. That's it, I'm telling him. If I'm going to go down, I don't want to be alone at the bottom.
"Hey uhh, Jo-Jo. What if I told you that I, might know a guy, who knows a guy, who's talked with the fellow's lawnmower who works for the nephew's cousin who has seen what happened to the Joker?"
"I'd tell you to stop whatever it is you're smoking and come back to earth."
Sarcastic bastard. And what's worse is that's just how I felt when I heard myself spewing it out. I'll never admit that to anyone out loud, of course. But's it's fucking true. That was the worst lie I have ever told. Well, the second worst. The first was that time when I tried to explain to one of my clients that the reason the car had become so flat was that I just so happen to park it where a moose jumped off a cliff and landed on it.
Yeah, they didn't believe me either.
Funny thing about that one was that it's the truth. It really happened. But fuck if anyone believes that tall tale.
"Okay listen," I lean closer to him and look around. I don't want anyone else hearing what I have to say. Even nobody's here but him and I, you can't be too careful when walls have ears. "I....I lied, to you when I said that nothing was wrong with me. Sorry."
"Oh really?" Innocent little lamb.
"Yeah, really. Anyways," I lean in until I'm sure he can hear me whisper, "You can't tell anyone what I'm about to tell you. Because if you do, let's just say our 'friendship' won't be worth the spit you use to shine your shoes."
"O-okay....But, I don't spit on--"
"It's just a figure of speech Jo-Jo!! Christ. Anywho....I.....I, know where the Joker is."
"What?" I said it more as a muffled mumbly-whisper, so I'm not surprised he didn't get it. But still, I resent having to repeat it.
"I know where the Joker is." That wasn't much better.
"I'm sorry? Bug, I can't hear--"
"I said I KNOW WHERE THE JOKER IS!!!" OKAY. That could be heard in Holland. Some birds flew away and one hit the wall out of blind fear. Poor thing.
Good ol' Jo-Jo. The only reaction he gives me is to flinch away from how loud I was, otherwise he's pretty blank. He's staring at me, and at first I thought he was going to pass out, but then he just burst out laughing instead. "Oh, Love-Bug! That's a good one! You always were the funny one, haha!!!"
Why am I surprised he would react like this? And how come people always tell me I'm funny when I never intend to be?? I hate that. I feel my face getting hotter. This wasn't funny! "Knock it off, I'm serious! I do know where the Joker is! I was there when he was abducted you car-fapper!!" Very immature, I know. But I'm pissed now, what can you do?
His laugh slowly dies away as the insult mixed with the look on my face seems to register into the smarter part of his brain. That's when his face drops, and now I have to try to hold it together before I burst out laughing. Don't worry, I don't.
His eyes are wide and keep growing. "Are, are you really telling me the truth?"
"YES!"
"You're not just yanking my chain--"
"For God's sake Jo-Jo! If I was yanking your chain, don't you think I would have ended it by now with some lame punchline?!"
"Oh yeah, I guess you're right." I throw my hands up in the air in a gesture of mocking gratitude. Doesn't even get it. He's really a good kid.
He looks at me again, and I can see the wheels a-turnin' in his head. He seems to have adrenaline pumping through him now as he leans in closer. He looks fucking positively evil right now. "So? Tell me; where is he?"
Good ol' Jo-Jo. Never ceases to rattle me. I suddenly feel like this is a bad idea. Because if I tell him, then I'm dragging him into something which will most likely lead to certain--and painful--death.
Ah, fuck it. Tell him anyways. At least he's not pushing me away and saying I'm crazy, or even giving me away to the highest bidder. Good ol' Jo-Jo. Someone you can never rely on, but who's always got your back.
(And if you think that made sense, then you should go hit yourself with a hammer because you are a retard.)
I look around me one last time and lean in even closer. I can feel he is bubbling with excitement and I have to confess it is rubbing off on me. I whisper,
"Okay. Well, the Joker is not too far away. He's actually--"
There was a rustle of fabric, suddenly I was enshrouded in darkness, and I feel myself being lifted off the ground and crushed against something hard. I hear Jo-Jo cry out my name and then hear more clearly the sounds from outside. All of a sudden my feet touch solid ground and the darkness is pulled away as I am roughly yank forward by my collar and am face to face with something very black and angry.
"WHERE'S THE JOKER?!?!"
It's Batman.
Great. Juuuust fucking great.
The very last person I wanted to come across tonight. (Well, 'one' of the last, anyway.)
Why do I have the idea that I'm going to be feeling all this in the morning?? (Pt.5)
Let The Game Begin (Pt.1)
What Herbie Saw (Pt.2)
Hurry (Pt.3)
(Oh Yes, There Will Be Blood) (Pt.4)
Author: thesingingbush
Prompt: "I can't remember when I had my first waking nightmare. They're too disturbing to call daydreams." - Devour (2005 film)
Word Count: 3,667
Characters: Herbie, Jo-Jo, Batman (briefly)
Disclaimer: I didn't see anything, I didn't hear anything, I didn't say anything, I didn't do anything, I don't own anything. As far as anyone's concerned, this is all a dream. Now try and sue that. XD ---Except for Herbie and Jo-Jo. They're mine. ^_^
Rating: PG-13 - ?
Warning: Swearing, new character (only for this part, so don't worry)
Summary: (For this Pt.) Herbie struggles with his conscience and what to do about the Joker while talking with his friend...
A/N: Sorry for the delay. It's just I knew this part wouldn't fit in the other two previous prompts, and I started to lose inspiration. And my head keeps bubbling with new stories that have nothing to do with this series. That, and I'm a procrastinator. Sorry It's also not quite the way I wanted it, so I don't think it turned out too good. Oh well. :(
((P.S.: This is also going to be (minus a cameo bit in the next part for obvious reasons, if you read this one) one of the last times you'll read about Herbie for a while. He's coming back, but not until the very end. Maybe even sooner, depending on where my muse takes me. So all of you who've read my series so far and have not liked Herbie, this is good news for you! XD I think...And all of you who did like him, don't worry. He's coming back. But not for a while, so enjoy him here for now. ^_^))
"So Steve kept saying he didn't know where he put it and I was like 'oh great, this is really bad.' You know how I said that Sheril was in total control? Well she started to freak out the second we heard the cops comin'. I mean she was really loosing it! Totally ape-shit..."
He's still talking. It's been I think two hours, and he's still talking. I don't even have a clue as to how much I was actually paying attention to. Doesn't really matter, because I don't care what he has to say right now. Not even a little bit. My mind is on worse things and rightly so. I mean come on. If you had witnessed what I did and had been the only one to do so, would you seriously be sitting here hanging on his every word?
Well, I wouldn't, and I'm not.
And I highly doubt you would either.
The stuff I know, is doing wonders to my ulcers. Not to mention my imagination. I know there is no way I'm going to be able to sleep tonight. Just no way.
...I really hope he's alright. I'm sure he is. He's a tough guy, what with those scars being proof and all. He can clearly take care of himself...I'm sure he can take care of himself...Fuck, I hope he can take care of himself.
Because if he can't, and he's really in serious danger, and Jigsaw is doing unspeakable things to him...horrible, scarring things...most likely consisting of something blunt and jagged...then...
Ohh, I don't even want to think about it.
But it'll be all my fault.
Wait, what am I saying? I had nothing to do with this. This doesn't concern me, I just happened to have seen it. It's not like I could have stopped it, or anything. It still would have happened regardless of me being there or not. And even if I told someone (who exactly I'm still working on) about it, they probably wouldn't even get to him on time anyway. They haven't yet. Ol' Saw-man tends to time his victims, from what I've read and heard through the grapevine. So much time has transpired that for all I know the Clown is dead, his body twisted and mangled in some god-awful pose from his last ditched effort to escape. (Oh. What a horrible visual that was. Shudder)
Yeah, yeah that's it. He's dead already. I'm sure of it. I'm so sure of it, I'm not even going to worry about it anymore. I mean (from what people tell me) these things the Jigsaw has them go through I think usually last a matter of minutes. It's been several hours since I saw the Joker taken. Whatever he did to him has already happened. He's dead.
Or alive.
I wouldn't be the least surprised that he would be the first and only guy to survive this weird ordeal. From the looks of him he seems to have survived a lot of things. Shit, I bet he'd still be around after Armageddon. Him and cockroaches. Oh, and twinkies. And fucking tax collectors.
....But, what if he's not okay? What if--and bare with me on this--this shit is still going on? What if he hasn't put the Clown through any of those game-thingies and is actually torturing the poor guy instead? Like, just out of boredom, or shit's and giggles, or another form of experimenting or something? Because he knew he could tough it out and keep coming back for more? He's probably got a big thick book on the worst kinds of torture, from bamboo under the fingernails to just short of skinning him alive. Oh god, maybe he's even cut off the tips of his fingers so when they find the body, they won't be able to identify him!
Oh, wait. He doesn't have any identification. Well, maybe he'd do it anyway. Just in case. Maybe to have it as a keepsake?
The bastard probably even keeps organs in jars out as decorations for his own sick amusement. Hell, I wonder what that 'doll' of his is really for. Scare tactic? Hm, maybe. Or maybe it's a hint as to what he's really into. Obviously stuff with white painted faces who have dark mysterious pasts. Woah. I just had a thought. I wonder if he's doing something not even the most depraved S&M freaks think about that involves the two of them, puppet and clown, and maybe barbed wire and metal rods?
.....Where the fuck am I going with this?
"Jesus, would you look at that? I stubbed my toe a few days ago on a fucking table leg and it's already swelled to the size of a goddamn Kiwi fruit! And the color of a radish....hey, I'm hungry. You wanna go to the old Pizza--...ohhh right. It's been blown up. Funny how I never remembered that 'til now...."
For the love of dipsticks Jo-Jo! I don't give a flying fart about your fucking fruity toe!!! Christ. I've got more important things to be thinking about than your ADD problems...
What? Oh. Right, sorry. I did it again didn't I? You have no idea who I'm talking about, do you? Sigh, of course. Well allow me to introduce to you. The non-stop jabbering motormouth over here is my friend, Jo-Jo. I call him that--or should I say we call him that--on account that his first name is Joseph and his last name is Jordan. Figure it out.
He works in the same line of business that I'm in. I hope you didn't forget what that was, because it's the thing that got me into this psychological nightmare in the first place. Anyway, ol' Jo-Jo is several years younger than me, and a bit wet behind the ears. Not to mention terribly naive which gets him into his share of amount of trouble. But he's got a heart of tarnished gold, and it helps or hinders him in whatever he does. He's a good kid and means well. But, I don't think he's cut out for this line of work, personally.
Not that he's bad at it, oh no. He's got a real knack for breaking into and hot-wiring the cars. Down to an art form I should say. (Hell, I'm taking notes from him on that.) Unfortunately, he's not so good on the whole "only do your stuff with no one else around", or especially, "if people inside, let it slide." You have no idea how many times we've had to run like hell, or if we couldn't get away, try and make a plausible excuse as to why we have a crowbar in their car door. It's funny to think about it now, but it wasn't then. Oh, fuck no. Still isn't. It wasn't doing a whole lot of good to my stress level, let alone my blood pressure. (Shit, not to mention whatever amount of hair I have left. Which, let's just say, I wish was more.) Needless to say I work alone now. We still hang out all the time, but only 'after hours'. Still, I gotta admit, I was a heck of a lot skinnier when I worked with him. Oh well.
I honestly don't know how many friends he has. But I'm pretty sure they're all about his age and maybe younger. So why in God's name he likes to hang around an old fart like me more than anyone else, I have no idea. I'm not saying I'm old, but I'm older than him. I've always felt older than what my age entails. I wonder what they says about me...
"....Uhhhm, 'Love-Bug'? Hello, are you home?"
"Huh?" Now he's waving his damn hand in front of my face. I'm not blind, Jo-Jo! I'm just not paying any attention to you.
"Are you okay?"
Shit. He knows something, he can tell. Am I that obvious? Do I offend? Am I sweating a lot? I must have been fidgeting and wiggling a shitload because I suddenly am aware that I'm not moving. And my finger hurts, why...? Oh. I was twisting my curly hair around it and now it's fucking tangled in there. Great. Yank it out, got to look normal. Yank, it, out!!
"Um, why do you ask?" I say while trying to smooth myself out. Good god, I'm just a bundle of nerves. How long was I like this before he noticed? Sweet Apple Pie, I hope he hasn't figured it out! Well of course he hasn't. nobody knows. Now just relax and pretend everything's fine!
"It's just, I've been talkin' to you for a while and you haven't said anything in response yet. Heh, kinda makes me feel snubbed and left out, ya know? Come to think of it, you look terrible. Is somethin' goin' on? Is it woman trouble? Are you having an affair with a married wo--Oh, I know! You've got a secret. You know something and you haven't told anybody yet. You can tell me! I promise not to tell, cross my heart and horseflies! Now tell me; what's goin' on?"
Count on Jo-Jo to screw up on a little ditty. I mean, 'horseflies'? Horseflies? Jesus Jo-Jo...if you don't remember what it is or what it means, don't use it.
Wait. Did he just accuse me of an affair with a married woman?? What the hell! Stop watching Jerry Springer Jo-Jo!! It rots your brain.
Shit. A secret? Oh shit. Oh shit-ohh, shit!! So he does know!! WAIT. No, he doesn't know, he suspects. Or is he faking that? Fuck if I know. Quick! Act cool, don't look guilty. He doesn't know. Pff! 'You can tell me!' my ass. Jo-Jo here can't keep a secret even if it was chained to him. I know this kid. He's hopeless at promises. But what I wouldn't give to tell another living soul. Just so I wouldn't feel so alone. I wonder, does it really matter if I tell him? He forgets things easily, maybe...
NO. What am I saying?! I can't tell him! He'll tell somebody else--most likely the next living thing he sees--then they'll tell someone then they will and so on and what not, and eventually it'll go back to Jigsaw's ears and he'll Fuckin' hunt me down and GAH!!! No. No I can't tell him. I can't tell anyone. Shit Clown, why did you have to be there at the same time as me?!? I'm going to have a stroke I just know it...
Whoopsie. Jo-Jo's looking at me strangely, I must not have said anything for a while. QUICK!! SAY SOMETHING!!!
"--Paperclips!" What the fuck?
"Uhh...what?"
"Deh--I mean, no. Nothing's going on. I never witnessed a kidnapping of the century while taking a car and am now shitting blood out of fear of what to do and if I tell anyone then I'll be ripped apart by my own flaws. I'm perfectly fine! Just ate something that didn't agree with me."
.......WOW. I couldn't have given away that I have a problem any better than what I just blurted. Why don't I just walk up to Jigsaw and say 'Here I am!! I'm a moron, kill me now!!' Shit, I'll never be a spy.
Jo-Jo's just staring blankly at me, his face seems frozen. I think I broke him. Can't blame him, I broke my ears hearing it. Out of embarrassment, I'm just staring back at him. My foot is wiggling, and I've plastered a big fake smile on my face. I think I'm blushing too. Don't even get me started on sweating.
.....We're still holding this staring contest for I believe 15 seconds straight, I'm pretty sure he's figured me out. That's it. I'm so screwed.
".........Oh, okay. Anyway what was I talking about? Oh yeah, a new couch! So like I was saying, I think we should get a leather one..."
Wait-what? He, is brushing it off and moving back to talking? What I said didn't register at all to him??
Bless him. Bless his little, blonde heart. (He's actually a brunette, but his heart is a blonde.) How nice it must be to be that blissfully unaware of everything that's going on around you. I'm so jealous I can't even look at him right now.
Although my mind's not in it, we should be talking about the whole couch thing, and I know it. Right now we're sitting on stuffing and wood that once upon a time resembled a couch. We need a new one. He said he'd pay for it this time, and as appetizing as all that sounds I just can't keep my mind on it. Hell, I can't keep it on anything but those two. I really hope he's okay, but I know deep down he's not. He's with the 'Jigsaw', after all. No one's just okay when they're with him. Oh, how I need a drink and another and another, just enough to forget this ever happened and hopefully interpret this as a hallucination from too much alcohol.
Yeah, I like that idea. Nothing says drowning out my problems and sorrows like a good six-pack and a couple shots of absinthe later. Going to have to look out for where they're being sold lately.
"Oh hey, Love-Bug! Guess what I heard today!"
I'm pretty sure Barney on the corner of Lexington and Silverrod still sells bottles of the stuff. Haven't seen him in a while but I'm sure he'll hook me up for cheaper...
"You won't believe it! I mean, only in Gotham right?! But guess this!"
Maybe if I promise to swindle him a car of his choice he'll give me a supply for free. It'd be worth it, I mean shit! I'll do anything just so I don't have to think about--
"The Joker's disappeared!!!"
If I could have spewed milk out of my nose, I would have done so then and there. I never had such a sudden heart-attack before in my life.
"What?" Oh fuck, I knew I couldn't avoid it for too long, but already!? Now?!
"Yeah, I know right?! It's nuts! His men are starting fights in the streets trying to find out where he is! I mean, murders even! It's crazy!"
I think I'm going to throw up. All this is happening because they want him back. Innocent people are getting hurt looking for him, and I know where he is, but because I'm a coward I won't say anything. Damn me! Damn me for that!
"They're going after everyone and anyone trying to find out if anybody knows where he is! They're setting houses on fire and breaking into shops, causing riots in the streets and they don't want to stop until someone who knows something will step forward and talk! Shit, he's not the only one gone neither. I've also heard that a bunch of people, including a cop have upped and vanished around the same time the Joker did! Oh and get this; apparently, Batman is looking for the Joker too! Holy shit! I don't envy the person who knows where these people are!!"
I can't help it anymore. This is making me sick to my stomach, and I feel as if I'm slowly losing my mind. So, in response to what he told me, I'm now laughing hysterically. I mean, red-in-the-face-unable-to-breathe laughing. I can't stop. Through blurred tears I see that Jo-Jo's face has dropped. I can only imagine what he thinks of me right now. But I don't care. Batman's involved now? He's looking for the Clown too?! That's it. I can't hold this in anymore. I don't want to die! I can't live with this information anymore!
"Uhh, LB?"
"Oh, ahaha! Sorry Jo! I-I'm sorry. I just --Ooowee!-- thought of something funny is all."
"Oh. Well, okay. You were always odd, I guess I shouldn't be shocked. But isn't that interesting nonetheless? I know what I'd do if I had the info everybody wanted!"
Well, now there's an interesting thing to bring up. "What would you do?" I try to ask him half interested.
"I'd pack my bags and leave town! Duh!!"
Not the answer I was hoping for. But he's right, only I don't want to leave! I like it here, it keeps me busy. That's it, I'm telling him. If I'm going to go down, I don't want to be alone at the bottom.
"Hey uhh, Jo-Jo. What if I told you that I, might know a guy, who knows a guy, who's talked with the fellow's lawnmower who works for the nephew's cousin who has seen what happened to the Joker?"
"I'd tell you to stop whatever it is you're smoking and come back to earth."
Sarcastic bastard. And what's worse is that's just how I felt when I heard myself spewing it out. I'll never admit that to anyone out loud, of course. But's it's fucking true. That was the worst lie I have ever told. Well, the second worst. The first was that time when I tried to explain to one of my clients that the reason the car had become so flat was that I just so happen to park it where a moose jumped off a cliff and landed on it.
Yeah, they didn't believe me either.
Funny thing about that one was that it's the truth. It really happened. But fuck if anyone believes that tall tale.
"Okay listen," I lean closer to him and look around. I don't want anyone else hearing what I have to say. Even nobody's here but him and I, you can't be too careful when walls have ears. "I....I lied, to you when I said that nothing was wrong with me. Sorry."
"Oh really?" Innocent little lamb.
"Yeah, really. Anyways," I lean in until I'm sure he can hear me whisper, "You can't tell anyone what I'm about to tell you. Because if you do, let's just say our 'friendship' won't be worth the spit you use to shine your shoes."
"O-okay....But, I don't spit on--"
"It's just a figure of speech Jo-Jo!! Christ. Anywho....I.....I, know where the Joker is."
"What?" I said it more as a muffled mumbly-whisper, so I'm not surprised he didn't get it. But still, I resent having to repeat it.
"I know where the Joker is." That wasn't much better.
"I'm sorry? Bug, I can't hear--"
"I said I KNOW WHERE THE JOKER IS!!!" OKAY. That could be heard in Holland. Some birds flew away and one hit the wall out of blind fear. Poor thing.
Good ol' Jo-Jo. The only reaction he gives me is to flinch away from how loud I was, otherwise he's pretty blank. He's staring at me, and at first I thought he was going to pass out, but then he just burst out laughing instead. "Oh, Love-Bug! That's a good one! You always were the funny one, haha!!!"
Why am I surprised he would react like this? And how come people always tell me I'm funny when I never intend to be?? I hate that. I feel my face getting hotter. This wasn't funny! "Knock it off, I'm serious! I do know where the Joker is! I was there when he was abducted you car-fapper!!" Very immature, I know. But I'm pissed now, what can you do?
His laugh slowly dies away as the insult mixed with the look on my face seems to register into the smarter part of his brain. That's when his face drops, and now I have to try to hold it together before I burst out laughing. Don't worry, I don't.
His eyes are wide and keep growing. "Are, are you really telling me the truth?"
"YES!"
"You're not just yanking my chain--"
"For God's sake Jo-Jo! If I was yanking your chain, don't you think I would have ended it by now with some lame punchline?!"
"Oh yeah, I guess you're right." I throw my hands up in the air in a gesture of mocking gratitude. Doesn't even get it. He's really a good kid.
He looks at me again, and I can see the wheels a-turnin' in his head. He seems to have adrenaline pumping through him now as he leans in closer. He looks fucking positively evil right now. "So? Tell me; where is he?"
Good ol' Jo-Jo. Never ceases to rattle me. I suddenly feel like this is a bad idea. Because if I tell him, then I'm dragging him into something which will most likely lead to certain--and painful--death.
Ah, fuck it. Tell him anyways. At least he's not pushing me away and saying I'm crazy, or even giving me away to the highest bidder. Good ol' Jo-Jo. Someone you can never rely on, but who's always got your back.
(And if you think that made sense, then you should go hit yourself with a hammer because you are a retard.)
I look around me one last time and lean in even closer. I can feel he is bubbling with excitement and I have to confess it is rubbing off on me. I whisper,
"Okay. Well, the Joker is not too far away. He's actually--"
There was a rustle of fabric, suddenly I was enshrouded in darkness, and I feel myself being lifted off the ground and crushed against something hard. I hear Jo-Jo cry out my name and then hear more clearly the sounds from outside. All of a sudden my feet touch solid ground and the darkness is pulled away as I am roughly yank forward by my collar and am face to face with something very black and angry.
"WHERE'S THE JOKER?!?!"
It's Batman.
Great. Juuuust fucking great.
The very last person I wanted to come across tonight. (Well, 'one' of the last, anyway.)
Why do I have the idea that I'm going to be feeling all this in the morning?? (Pt.5)
Let The Game Begin (Pt.1)
What Herbie Saw (Pt.2)
Hurry (Pt.3)
(Oh Yes, There Will Be Blood) (Pt.4)