West owes him for this.
The nut house. The crazy hut. The booby hatch - always a depressing misnomer, that one.
Eel O'Brien doesn't like it here, even though plenty of people probably think he belongs here. But he doesn't. He's an independent businessman... the only time he DESERVED to be here was after the first thousand years or so of being dispersed throughout the Atlantic Ocean... but it's a little hard to psychoanalyze living plankton.
Anyway, no ugly memories here - he's about to deal with someone who's an ugly right-now. He's gotta be 'pep talk man.' Get over the hump, bad guy, be a good guy, bad guy, stop banging psychotic clowns, ya freak.
Seriously, that's unbelievably gross. He's not sure if the whole Ivy thing cancels the Joker thing out or not.
After flashing some League cred to the gang here at the Keystone Mental Hosptial & Grill, he makes his way to the visitors area, a nice little lounge where everyone can be monitored, but you can sit at a table instead of those prison phones with the foot of glass between them.
He sits back in his chair, stretching over it impossibly, looking at the ceiling and trying to think of what the hell he's gonna say to this dingie broad.
Eel O'Brien doesn't like it here, even though plenty of people probably think he belongs here. But he doesn't. He's an independent businessman... the only time he DESERVED to be here was after the first thousand years or so of being dispersed throughout the Atlantic Ocean... but it's a little hard to psychoanalyze living plankton.
Anyway, no ugly memories here - he's about to deal with someone who's an ugly right-now. He's gotta be 'pep talk man.' Get over the hump, bad guy, be a good guy, bad guy, stop banging psychotic clowns, ya freak.
Seriously, that's unbelievably gross. He's not sure if the whole Ivy thing cancels the Joker thing out or not.
After flashing some League cred to the gang here at the Keystone Mental Hosptial & Grill, he makes his way to the visitors area, a nice little lounge where everyone can be monitored, but you can sit at a table instead of those prison phones with the foot of glass between them.
He sits back in his chair, stretching over it impossibly, looking at the ceiling and trying to think of what the hell he's gonna say to this dingie broad.