What a jester does in his downtime
The clattering of a spoon into a plastic bowl filled with milk and Cap'N Sugar-Rot's Cereal echoes through the part of the warehouse that remains relatively empty in comparison to the cluttered, disorganized mess of "souvenirs" Jack had been collecting since his arrival to The City. It was a wide array of goodies, all with the theme of carnivals: large clown mannequins, carnival games, a few helium tanks and balloons, several dozen full-length mirrors with no frames, bumper cars, parts of a ferris wheel -- including one of the carts --, and even a few odds and ends that originally came from a broken down Tilt-A-Whirl. There's no telling how he managed to get these; at least, no telling how an outsider could figure it out. There's not even a rhyme or reason for how Jack fell upon the warehouse. All that mattered was, for all intents and purposes, it was all his.
"Wheel of Morality, turn turn turn! Tell us the lesson that we should learn!"
The Crown Prince of Crime sits in an old, beat-up recliner he had salvaged, in a white beater and a pair of boxer shorts displaying a wide array of little duckies, munching away at the cereal, eyes glazed to the television. In the weeks past, he hadn't really laughed one bit. Harley was still alive, for one, and the Batman had somehow managed to arrive here... Along with his little bird boy companion. And now, in his solitude, he had managed to nab a television, a DVD player, and a box set of the Animaniacs' first season.
"... The answer, my friend, is blowing in the wind. Except for in New Jersey, where what's blowing in the wind smells funny."
At Yakko's solidly delivered line, Joker reels his head back, letting out a high-pitched raze of laughter, kicking his feet, spilling drops of milk from the bowl and onto the chair. As Yakko, Wakko, and Dot are chased off screen by the security guard, and the credits begin rolling, his cackling calms down, a chalky white finger rubbing a tear away from under his left eye. Still smirking in his typical insane manner, he rises up and walks to the TV and DVD player, shutting them both off. Bowl still in hand, he walks to the giant refuse of carnival goods, taking in another heaping helping of the sugary cereal, eyeing it all carefully. He pauses in thought, almost completely immobile, aside from his very steady breathing...
... then he throws the bowl and spoon back with one hand, letting milk and soggy cereal splatter onto the ground, the metal spoon clattering against the cemented flooring. He throws his arms out to the sides, wide-spread and invitingly, and bursts out:
"Ladies and gentlemen, coming to a ticking city near you, the latest in Joker, Inc. comedy... JokerLand!!"
With wild laughter and hands clasped together, rubbing deviously together, he moves toward the pile, and begins construction...