As everyone knows, Batman and the Joker are dynamically balanced in every aspect; if Batman is strong, then so is the Joker, if Batman is weak, so is the Joker. If Batman leaves Gotham, the Joker will also go into hiding. If Batman lets down his guard, the Joker will definitely seize the opportunity.
All in all, this can be sumd up as a rule: the sicker Batman is, the crazier the Joker becos.
Regardless, the Joker's ultimate goal is to make Batman laugh.
Now, not only has Batman laughed, but he has also killed, killed his teacher no less, and manipulated others to kill, going so far as to manipulate an eleven-year-old girl into killing.
It's hard to tell whether he's healed or has beco crazier than the Joker's assessnt.
When Bruce was driving a Lamborghini tractor on a farm in Kansas State, Thomas had just arrived. At that ti, Jack was demanding paynt with an IOU, Bruce was scolded by Thomas after he returned.
Then, Bruce went to find Jack, expressing that due to large initial costs, Wayne Enterprises was short on funds and needed so ti to recover, asking him if he could give an extension.
As a businessman experienced in the ups and downs of the business world, Bruce naturally knew that he had to make small paynts if he couldn't afford the big ones. Hence, he and Jack found a barbecue stall near Jack's truck parking lot, and he treated Jack to a barbecue al.
The barbecue was unexpectedly delicious.
That day, Bruce went to inspect the construction site and ran into Waylon 'Killer Croc' Jones, who was doing odd jobs. Waylon just so happened to be hungry, so Bruce took him to the barbecue stall. Perhaps due to the hard work, the barbecue still tasted unexpectedly delicious.
Jack always passed that stall when he drove, Killer Croc was often doing labouring work less than a kiloter away, and Bruce was always checking the worksite in the East District. Over ti, it beca a fixed gathering spot for als.
As Jack only ran refrigerated cargo within the city, most perishable goods were stored in warehouses near the wharf, Bruce could join him on his last return trip which passed through the South District. Coincidentally, right when they went there, Killer Croc just finished his shift.
Initially, only the three of them had als together. But as the Chief of the Gotham Police, Jas Gordon inevitably visited the mob boss' house in the East District often to diate so issues like truck racing or skirmishes between gangs concerning the cold storage in warehouses.
So one day, Gordon happened to drive by and notice the group eating barbecue on the roadside, primarily because Killer Croc's appearance was too conspicuous. Recognising him from hundreds of ters away, Gordon stopped his car to greet them.
Since Gordon had arrived, Bruce couldn't let him go back hungry, so he joined the al as well.
Coincidentally, Thomas Wayne was staying at Wayne Manor that night, Bruce would rather waste ti at the barbecue stall than go ho. The rest of them didn't have a family either and didn't have anything to do, so Gordon took out a deck of cards from his car, and they began to play Texas Hold'em poker with no limit on bets.
Of course, although the barbecue was as delicious as ever that day, the ending was not so pleasant, as Jack was caught cheating with a four of a kind, which just happened to break Gordon's royal flush and he was cuffed on the spot.
Later, because all the barbecue stalls on the street were supplied by the sa at source - Cobblepot's discarded food from high-end restaurants in the South and West Districts - and there were many truck drivers in the area, it beca a whole street of barbecue stalls.
The group would gather there for als and play cards every few days. Bruce, always one for a social gathering, would join wherever and whenever he could.
All of this pretty much sets the backdrop for the barbecue stall gathering, but clearly, Damian, who had been there for less than twenty-four hours, wouldn't know about this. He had turned into a statue.
The most he could do was face straight ahead, not looking at who was driving next to him, emptying his mind, not thinking about who was holding him now.
Damian had never been held by Batman. It was foreseeable that he would not stay in his father's arms for more than a second, but the current situation was stronger than people.
Taking a step back, lying in his father's arms was a little better than in the Joker's, right? It was also surely better than lying in a grave, right?
The demon boy had never been so quiet this life. All he could do now was to forget that he had a mouth.
However, Bruce seed as if nothing had happened. After he closed the truck door, he rolled down the window. Gotham's night breeze blew his forehead hair backward, and the moonlight made his eyes brighter.
"How many runs did you make today? Six?" Bruce turned his head and asked Jack.
With one hand on the steering wheel and the other out the window, Jack pouted, "There's no such luck. I can't even make six on a good day. Regal Style Street is jamd like Old Nord's mother's birth canal, and the golden tooth at the wharf keeps ssing with ."
"He didn't let you unload again?"
"At least twice a day, each ti stalling for half an hour."
Sitting in Bruce's arms, Damian finally ca to his senses a bit. Then he began to wonder - was the one sitting in the driver's seat really the Joker? Or just a fanatic fan imitating his makeup?
Wasn't this conversation a little too grounded?
Then he heard Bruce say, "That's because he intercepted two of your trucks loaded with bombs."
"Bomb ingredients," Jack corrected, he forcefully pulled the gearshift, looking ahead, saying, "All good stuff from Wayne Enterprises, cost quite a bit, the wharf gangs got all the benefits."
"Don't tell you couldn't get it back."
Jack snorted coldly, honked the horn, and after turning a corner, said, "I initially planned to surprise the other Batman with him."
"Thomas? Then why did you change your mind?"
"Because he's too boring," Jack scoffed. "He's a bottle filled with the potion of dullness, get it? He's completely hardened, a walking stereotype."
"He only does what Batman does and says what Batman says. Even after repeating it a thousand tis, it's all the sa act, he will never change, never evolve, and never surprise with anything unexpected — he's utterly boring."
"The mont I took that IOU to Wayne Manor, I was already done with his performance. I can't believe I thought it would be worth it spending two months' wages to see the sa play again."
Jack's hands were on the steering wheel as he turned to look at Bruce and said, "anwhile, a much more entertaining show cost only a hundred dollars."
Bruce turned to look outside the window while Damian looked up in horror, seeing a hint of smugness on Bruce's face.
Jack maneuvered the steering wheel, his voice low and devoid of craziness, and even a bit chillingly rational.
"Thomas Wayne, the other Batman, is like an actor, playing the sa role on several stages. To , his lines, moves, every gesture is entirely predictable."
"Maybe his performance is perfect, you'd be intrigued by the intense darkness he exudes when you're in the theater for the first ti, and be awed by his gravitas."
"But soon, he's in a different theater, on a different stage, exuding the sa gravitas and darkness. A new set of audience cheer for him, but that's because they don't love him enough."
"They don't passionately follow Batman, they don't watch every one of his performances. Otherwise, they would notice that Batman never changes."
"In an era of scarce entertainnt, this is acceptable. Shakespeare's plays have been perford over and over again, and folks still flock to see them, still moved to tears by the ending."
"But you, Batman, you are a spectacle in yourself, a nascent spark, not a charred log. Your ideologies clash and your thoughts evolve, creating different plots on different stages."
"Following you, I witness more dramatic conflicts than any actor could portray. They're constantly evolving and maturing, making my heart pound and adrenaline surge."
"You are not an actor and you don't need to play opposite you. Even if you were the only one on stage, the show would still be worth the ticket price."
"Consequently, when that Batman returns to the stage, instead, needing to join him in mockery, only then can he enact a trace of vivid pain erging from his rigid solemnity, how could one not see the comparative superiority?"
Damian's mouth fell open, his habitual reprimand for Joker was already on the tip of his tongue. Just before he spat it out, Bruce covered his mouth and turned to Joker.
"You could be more straightforward."
"You're much better than Thomas Wayne!"
"Thanks for the complint, dinner's on tonight."
The truck slowly entered the bustling street. An entanglent of ssy wiring ford a large net overhead. Handmade neon signs from various food stall owners hung haphazardly. Smoke and delicious aromas intertwined, flooding in through the car window and causing Damian's stomach to rumble.
He's a kid and gets hungry easily. When his biological father and the Robins said they were sending him to another universe, he was so upset that he skipped a al. Now, his stomach was stuck to his spine with hunger.
Bruce patted his head and said, "I bet you've never had barbecued food, because Thomas once told that smoked food is unhealthy. If you don't go around blabbing about this, I won't ntion it to your father, okay?"
Damian swallowed his saliva. Common sense told him not to agree because there was no way he could keep quiet about having a barbecue with Joker. But he was starving.
Soon, the sight he saw knocked down his last defence — Barbara Gordon was sitting next to Gordon at the barbecue stand they were approaching, secretly sprinkling chili powder on the skewers.
Imdiately, Damian had the feeling of being betrayed. So, everyone decided to stop eating to protest, and I'm the last one to eat, right?
Damian had a bad temper, and a surge of anger reached his forehead. He imdiately climbed up Bruce's arm, pounded his shoulder, and said loudly,
"Don't invite them! And order the most expensive at! Double portion! Quadruple portion!"
"I won't tell Thomas no matter what!"
anwhile, Barbara, seated behind Gordon on a small stool, looked up and saw Jack with truck keys in his hand, standing beside Bruce.
It hit Batgirl like a bolt from the blue.
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