13: The Killing Joke

The Dead End, Black Mask decided, didn't seem like anything special. From the outside, it looked positively plain. Not quite a dive but certainly not anything fancy and elevated either. Mask had trouble believing this was the den of someone powerful enough to stay neutral in Gotham of all places and even powerful enough to extend that neutrality to others.

He had a hard time believing this place was responsible for all the changes he'd come across in Gotham since his escape from Arkham Tower. He'd heard the rumors from his new men and Masks but he'd reserve the final judgment until he saw it with his own eyes.

It looked like the kind of place he would walk right past without noticing. Maybe spare the name a parting thought at most. He was never one for drinking. It made him feel less in control. It took him out of his mask.

As far as Mask was concerned, Roman Sionis was dead. Gone. Kaput. All that mattered now was the mask. Black Mask was king in his mind. After all, the Mask hadn't been dropped on his head as a baby. The Mask didn't have distant parents who never cared. The Mask didn't utterly ruin the family business and drive himself into bankruptcy.

Everything he was today, he owed to the mask. Black Mask took everything into his hands and molded it for greatness. An empire, ruled by the mask. And since his escape, he'd been feeling more and more like the mask. As far as he was concerned, that development was as positive as it came.

He'd only been free for a few days and Mask had already made good progress toward his renewed goals. He had a power base, a new troupe, and a plan. This parlay was a wrench in his efforts but he convinced himself to go along with it for now. The last thing he wanted was to be cut out of any potential negotiations.

Mask arrived at the Dead End fashionably early. He was already at a disadvantage here. While the others who agreed to attend the parlay already knew about the Dead End, Mask was learning on the fly. He was left to adapt and adjust his plans as he went. The last thing he needed was to add to that disadvantage by showing up late for a dramatic entrance or something similarly stupid.

Upon entering the Dead End for the first time, that adaption was immediately put to the test. He was one of the first ones there. He expected that much. Penguin and Riddler were drinking together at the bar, having a quiet conversation before everything kicked off.

But the ones who shifted Mask's view of the situation were hanging suspiciously close to two people he could only assume were the owners of the Dead End. Poison Ivy and Harley Quinn. If Mask was reading them correctly, they were a part of the Dead End now.

Seeing him, Harley skipped over, as energetic as ever, "Hiya, Masky~! Welcome in~! Good to see ya~! You're early so we're still just waiting for the rest of y'all to show up~! Feel free to have a seat~!"

"Quinn," Black Mask grunted a greeting in turn.

Harley's words confirmed Mask's deduction that she and Ivy had aligned themselves with the Dead End. It was good information to have. He made a note of it.

Mask didn't have anything else to talk to her about. So he didn't. Instead, he took a seat at the large, circular table that took center stage inside the bar. He imagined it wasn't the usual arrangement of seating. Smart though. Its shape and design played nicely into the place's supposed neutrality.

He took a seat that allowed him to watch the door and the bar where the others were gathered at the same time and settled in to try and get a feel for this 'Dead End'. He quickly pegged four of the seven people in the bar as being part of the Dead End's faction.

The two barkeeps he didn't recognize had to be the owners. Mr. Barkeep and Miss Didi. Mask could associate the stories his new men told him with them, even if they didn't quite make sense with what he saw of the two goths at a glance. Riddler and Penguin were friendly with the bartender but they weren't close. Not like Ivy and Harley were. They likely weren't a part of this new faction yet.

Then there was the last woman at the bar. She was leaning more toward 'close' with the owners instead of friendly. But she wasn't quite there yet. Her presence complicated things. Mask recognized her as Vicki Vale. The reporter. Which could potentially be an issue. He'd just assumed that a meeting as important as this one would be 'closed', per se. Thankfully, she didn't have a camera with her so there was a chance it still was.

Still, Mask knew he'd have to watch himself. He'd have to carefully manage his image in case the inner workings of this meeting came out. The news would spread. Of that, Mask had no doubt. Reporters had keen ears and busy fingers. But the specifics might or might not stay private.

If Miss Vale was so close to the Dead End faction, perhaps this was just another aspect of their neutrality. A Sword of Damocles and a safety net at the same time.

Barely a rush of air signaled the arrival of another one of the meeting's attendees. Mask pointedly didn't acknowledge the Bat as he seemingly appeared in a seat opposite him. Inside though, he smugly noted that he was here first.

Freeze entered the bar as well. But he did so much more mundanely. None of the Bat's flair for theatrics. There was something interesting about his entrance though. He came from the back of the bar, accompanied by a woman who could only be his wife. Then they both joined Harley and Ivy at the bar with the owners.

'Interesting…' Mask mused. 'It's a small but strong bloc for a faction. Ivy alone could match half of Gotham's capes. And we still only have rumors to go off for Mr. Barkeep and Miss Didi.'

More attendees followed in a steady trickle. Just about every villain in the city had agreed to be here — not just the ones with their own gangs —, plus the crime families. Today's negotiations would be with them primarily. The villain gangs were — quite honestly — bit players in Mask's mind.

Penguin and Riddler joined them at the table when Bane arrived. Against everything Mask knew about his peers, they were being quite civil with each other. All of the villains were. From Catwoman to Clayface. And none of them raised an eyebrow at Batman's inclusion either.

'They're used to this,' He realized.

'The Dead End. They've been meeting at a neutral ground like this for months now. They know they don't have to worry about each other's company,' Mask observed.

'Even the Bat?' He questioned.

'Even the Bat,' Mask confirmed.

The last ones to join the meeting were the heads of Gotham's crime families. The real players Mask would have to contend with. The other villains couldn't be completely ignored but only three of them had the potential power to oppose his efforts vigorously. The rest lacked the proper power base. They were villains, not crime lords.

Mask kept a keen eye on the remaining four crime lords. Franco Bertinelli. Antony Dimitrov. Luke Sabatino. And a surprise from the Falcones. It seemed that Carmine Falcone wasn't in charge anymore. He was succeeded by his daughter Sofia Falcone Gigante. Mask didn't remember her being in a wheelchair but she still cut an imposing figure.

When everyone was seated and situated, a clap resounded through the Dead End. Mr. Barkeep — Sean Caine to his friends — got everyone's attention. As he did, his faction — as the Mask had dubbed them — took seats at the now-full table. How? By making room for themselves in an impossible show of power and twisting space from Mr. Barkeep and Miss Didi.

Mask raised an eyebrow at that but didn't react otherwise. The other villains — regulars of the Dead End — didn't react either. And of course, the Bat was as impassive as ever. The crime lords were left to startle and jump on their own. If he didn't have their attention before now, he certainly commanded it with that stunt.

Even with the completely circular table, Mr. Barkeep somehow seemed to be sitting at the head. Miss Didi sat alongside him like a kind, almost motherly queen.

'That would make Quinn the jester, Ivy the court mage, and Freeze the knight,' Mask thought in amusement.

Mr. Barkeep spoke and the whole table listened, "Welcome to the Dead End's first-ever parlay, everyone."

"Villain tea parlay party~!" Harley interrupted with blatant glee.

Mr. Barkeep just nodded and continued, "Right, that. We're here tonight for a few reasons. To air out old grudges and disputes in a peaceful setting. To put a cork in all of the fuck-shit brewing between the gangs-…" As he said that, he glanced pointedly at Black Mask and the crime lords.

Knowing they couldn't let themselves be seen backing down so quickly, he continued, "And finally, to show the Joker that he isn't going to intimidate the Dead End. He's almost certainly going to crash this party. And when he does, we're going to give him the welcome he so fatally deserves."

"You can't kill him, Sean. I won't let you," Batman cut in with a grave, gravelly voice.

Mr. Barkeep — Sean — shook his head sadly, "I'm going above your head on this one, Batman. Quite frankly, you're vastly outranked here."

"It isn't your decision who lives or dies," Batman growled.

"Yes, it is," Sean said matter-of-factly. "And if you won't accept my authority on the matter, I'll just refer you to Didi. You don't get a choice in this anymore, Batman. Lady Death has spoken."

Batman grunted and went silent. Mask sat back and observed the exchange, cataloging everything said and unsaid. 'Interesting choice of words. It seems Batman won't be able to impose his code on Mr. Barkeep. He's not lying when he says Lady Death has spoken. No, he means it quite literally. And with the reference to Miss Didi right before… Hmm.'

"It's not very neutral of you to declare your intent to kill someone," Sofia Falcone said, her words cold and cutting.

Sean stared her down, "Our neutrality doesn't mean we will stand being walked all over. We will defend ourselves when threatened and enforce our ideal within our domain. Let me be clear. Threatening the Dead End will be met with violent consequences."

"Don't fuck with Switzerland," Ivy intoned as if it was written in stone. "We won't involve ourselves in the usual villain games unless we're asked to but that doesn't mean we'll just sit there and take everything thrown our way."

"I'll have to agree with Ivy here," Catwoman added her two cents. "I quite like having a place like the Dead End in the city."

"Hear, hear!" Riddler agreed as well. "Only a few days and I already miss the company!"

"I know damn well my boys keep each other in line when it comes to this bar. No one wants to be the next one to fuck around and find out," Two-Face grunted.

"I think it's safe to say that the regulars support what Mr. Barkeep is trying to do here. So long as the Joker is taken care of, you can expect to see business return to normal," Penguin added.

"Sounds to me like that boy up and pissed in a church," Antony Dimitrov grunted, going against the 'united front' Sofia was undoubtedly trying to present. "He'll get what he's got coming to him. There ain't no need to question a man's right to defend what's his in this situation, Falcone."

Sean waved, changing the subject, "He's not the reason we're all here anyway. He'll be taken care of in due time. Right now, we should focus on the purpose of this meeting. We're here to air out old grudges and squash beef. Peacefully."

He stared pointedly around the table at his last word, making sure everyone knew he was serious. Once he was satisfied that no one would start anything immediately, he nodded, "Good. Now, who wants to start?"

No one volunteered themselves. Old enemies glared at each other from across the table. Mask received his fair share of dirty looks as well. He brushed them off like water off a duck's back. Still, no one wanted to be the first to break the silent tension rising around the table.

"I'll go first," Harley said, rolling her eyes. "I've got a beef to pick with Red here!"

Ivy startled slightly, "Me, Harley? Wha-…?"

Harley puffed herself up as if she were declaring something of grand importance, "… You hog all the blankets, Red!"

Her declaration was met with a momentary stunned silence. Ivy looked bewildered in the face of it. In a single sentence, the tension around the table was slashed to ribbons. Catwoman was the first to break, chortling with a sultry purr. The other villains quickly followed her in laughter. Goodnatured as it was, even a couple of the crime lords joined in.

Mask quickly found himself reassessing his opinion of Harley Quinn. That move was clever as Hell. Positively devious in how it manipulated the atmosphere of the room. And Mask knew it had to be that way on purpose. Harley had used her reputation as a pick to break the ice in a way that effectively killed the expectation that this meeting had to be about serious or hostile old grudges.

Then Ivy added to the effectiveness of Harley's gambit. Purposeful or not, Mask was unsure. But it certainly cleared away the rest of the proverbial ice.

"Y-Yeah?! Well, you have cold feet!"

Harley gasped as if Ivy had slapped her, "You take that back!"

Still chuckling, Riddler joined in, "I've got one. For Scarecrow. I know you ate my leftover Chinese food out of the fridge when we were collabing a while back. That was my lunch, Jon! And it was clearly labeled! Have some common decency for your peers, man!"

Though he started jovially, by the end of his grievance, Riddler was incensed. 'Rightfully so,' Mask thought. 'If someone stole my properly labeled food, I don't think murder would be all that much of an overreaction.'

"It wasn't me!" Scarecrow denied transparently.

Riddler glared at him, "Don't lie to me, Jon! I had to eat peanut butter and jelly because of you. Like a five-year-old! You don't have anything else edible in your hideout! Go shopping, dammit!"

Even with his mask, sheepishness was clear in Scarecrow's posture, "Okay, yeah… Yeah, that was me. My bad, Edward. I'm sorry."

"Fine," Riddler nodded stiffly. "You're paying for all of the take-out for the rest of our friendship."

Scarecrow winced at the hit his wallet would take but sighed, "That's fair."

With their contribution to Harley's ploy, the tension in the meeting was well and truly broken. It seemed that airing petty grievances could be just as cathartic as serious ones, without the possibility of violence. 'Let's see how long that lasts,' Mask mused cynically.

"I suppose I have one for Sean," Miss Didi offered, speaking up for the first time with a lovely clear voice that instantly stole the show. "When are you going to stop bullying Batgirl?"

"When it stops being fun or when she stops letting herself rise to my bait so easily," Sean answered with a chuckle.

"So… never," Didi deadpanned.

Sean just smirked and Mask could have sworn he saw the corner of the Bat's lips twitch up almost imperceptibly.

"Oh, this seems like fun~" Catwoman purred. "What do you say, Batman~? Anything you wanna say about me~? I promise I won't bite~"

Mask watched that exchange intently. Would the Bat join? That would be the real test of this meeting. Batman was silent. Unmoving. He'd never break. Never allow himself to relax to this level. Mask was sure of it.

"… Stop doing things that are illegal," Batman snarked plainly, proving Mask wrong in a single unlikely sentence.

Mask blinked. Did the Bat just…?

"Holy shit!" Kite-man guffawed in surprise. "Batman just cracked a joke!"

"Didn't know you had it in you, Bats," Penguin commented with an amused smirk.

"I can be very funny when I wish to be," Batman said, his voice so steady it was as if he was stating the weather.

"C'mon, Bats~" Catwoman let out an alluring giggle. "Don't leave us with just that. I know you have some petty things to say about me in that dark, handsome head of yours~"

Batman was quiet for a moment again, "… Your claws can be a little too sharp sometimes."

Catwoman blinked, parsing through that for a moment before blushing so minutely it was barely visible, "That complaint is hardly appropriate for our current company, Batman…"

"I have scars, Selina. Happy scars but scars nonetheless," Batman deadpanned.

"W-Well, it's hardly my fault that I can get a little… little… passionate!" Catwoman sputtered.

Everyone at the table watched the two 'enemies' go back and forth. Heads swiveled between the two of them like a tennis match. Though perhaps it would be more accurate to describe them as an old married couple. The relationship between Batman and Catwoman was a very open secret but it wasn't common to see it play out with your own eyes.

Mask felt like he'd stepped into Wonderland. This… was a strange phenomenon. One he'd freely admit he didn't fully understand. While the other villains were interested, they didn't seem as caught off-guard as he or the crime lords were. Was this how things were done in the Dead End?

"How are you enjoying your first time in the Dead End?" A voice asked from a little off to Mask's left.

Mask turned to address Mr. Barkeep, still fairly bewildered, "I'm sorry?"

Though two people — Mister Freeze and his wife Nora — separated them at the table, Sean spoke to Mask as if he was right next to him, "Well, you're the only villain here I'm not familiar with in one way or another. I suppose I just want to hear the thoughts of a first-time guest."

"It's… unusual. Unique," Mask said, choosing his words carefully. "I don't believe I've ever experienced an environment like this. Not where villains are so free to talk to one another without fear of violence. Where even the heroes can join in."

"It's something special," Sean stated with firm conviction beneath his words.

Mask nodded slowly, "I suppose it is."

"You know, this is exactly what I want from my neutrality. Connections," Sean glanced out at the others around the table and then back to Mask. A smile colored his expression.

The smile never left his face as he articulated his thoughts, "Not in the networking sense of the word. But in the sense of relationships. Friendships. The social structure at the core of the human experience, those kinds of connections. Between enemies, existing allies, and people who would have never met without this place. The simple essence of interaction between people, good or bad. Something as basic as being able to talk to one another, having a place to talk to one another… Just that can do so much."

"I see…" Mask dutifully absorbed the new information. Hearing Sean speak about his goals and ideals was immensely informative. It helped Mask get a much clearer picture of who this 'Mr. Barkeep' really was.

"Right," Sean shook his head clear of dreams. "I should probably get things back on track before-…"

"I've got something to say to the crime families," Two-Face suddenly growled, his tone making it clear his grievance wasn't nearly as petty as the ones before it. "Which one of you mafia bastards did this shit to me?! Who's responsible? I wanna have… words with 'em…"

Sean sighed, "Before something like this happens."

Franco Bertinelli met Two-Face's hostility in kind, "Don't take the tone with us, boy! I get that you're pissed but I've been running these streets since you were in nappies. I guarantee it wasn't one of mine though."

Two-Face wouldn't be pacified so easily, "I know it was one of you mafia jackasses. So fess up! Who the fuck left me scarred like this?! I'm gonna pay 'em the same courtesy!"

"It wasn't any of us," Sofia said coolly. "You want the Maronis. Sal Maroni in particular. Which means you want to talk to Black Mask. He took over the Maroni Family just recently. He'll know where you can find Sal."

Mask's eyes narrowed, 'Clever girl, redirecting the attention onto your enemy. And now I have a choice to make… I think Sal Maroni was the one I masked. Losing a Mask would be unfortunate. But not the end of the world. And with the chance to gain favor with Two-Face and gain face with the rest of the witnesses… Really, it's not even a choice.'

"Well, Mask?" Two-Face turned his attention onto him. "What do you know about-…"

"He's yours," Mask said abruptly. "Do with him what you will. I'll have him deliver himself to you whenever you need. So long as I have guarantees of a safe transaction from certain parties."

He glanced at Batman as he said the last bit. Batman's eyes on him could have cut steel, "You know I can't do that, Black Mask. He'll pay for his crimes, Dent. But it'll be in a court of law and prison, not by your hand."

Mask could see how Two-Face rankled at Batman's words. Taking a gamble, he turned to Sean, "Mr. Barkeep. May we use your neutral establishment for the transaction?"

"In here? Sure," Sean shrugged. "But it won't do you much good. Batman will just be waiting outside the door. I won't do anything to stop him outside of my domain. And I won't let Two-Face carry out his revenge in here. Beyond that, Sal Maroni is free to visit the Dead End by himself and leave with whoever he wishes."

Mask nodded, "Then I am content to wipe my hands of the situation. At that point, whatever happens will be up to him, Two-Face, and Batman."

"Dent…" Batman growled warningly, seeing the look in Two-Face's eyes. "I WILL stop you."

Two-Face snorted, "What else is new, Bats?"

"Right, well, we'll leave the two of you to work that out between yourselves," Sean said, rolling his eyes. "Why don't the rest of us move on to something a touch more pressing? Something like plunging the city into all-out war?"

When he said that, he looked directly at the four remaining crime lords and Black Mask. Mask allowed himself to give a small nod, acknowledging his part in that situation. The crime lords didn't even give that much.

'The fools probably still think they're in control of this conversation,' Mask scoffed internally. 'If Mr. Barkeep was so inclined, he could force us into peace. We wouldn't be able to do anything about it.'

Still, he did not seem so inclined. So Mask was willing to have this conversation civilly. There were much worse things that could happen than being brought to the peace-talk table. Perhaps he would even come out on top due to his willingness to compromise with the mediator.

"What is there to talk about?" Sofia's voice chilled any potential conversation immediately. It seemed she would be taking it upon herself to speak for the families. "We're perfectly happy to uphold the status quo. Without any undue violence at all. It's Black Mask that wishes to conquer through war and force. Will you chastise us for defending what is ours, Mr. Barkeep? Could you claim you would do any differently in our position?"

"Yes," Sean stated flatly. "Yes, I could. Not for defending yourselves but I certainly wouldn't let my problems spill out onto the streets and catch the whole city in the crossfire.

"I don't care if you fight amongst yourselves. I don't even care who wins. But I DO care about the chaos and collateral damage your little gang war will cause. About the innocents who will be harmed because of your callous greed and negligence. And that's not going to happen if I can help it."

Mask nodded. That lined up with what he'd seen from Mr. Barkeep so far. Unfortunately, he couldn't see this coming to an easy resolution. They were at an impasse. The families wouldn't give up their power and positions easily. And Mask wouldn't give up his ambition. There needed to be something new introduced into the equation for anything productive to be done here.

Luke Sabatino bristled at Sean's words, "Oh, yeah? What are ya gonna do about it, tough guy?! You don't get to tell us what to fuckin' do!"

Sean fixed him with a silent, heavy stare for a moment, "… I don't think you realize what you're doing so I won't punish you as harshly as I could. But I think you should take a little timeout. And just think for a moment. Think about what you just said, who you said it to, and where you said it."

With a snap of his fingers, Sean did something impossible again. Sabatino was suddenly in another place entirely, as if reality rejected his previous position. All the way in one of the corners of the bar, he found himself sitting and facing the wall. A comical dunce cap appeared on his head. And no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get it off. Or stand from his chair. Or be heard by any of the rest of them. He was, quite literally, put in timeout.

The other crime lords were smart enough to hold their tongues. Mask knew they must be fuming. They lived and died on respect and reputation. No one got away with treating the crime families like that. But they weren't on their turf right now. And at least Sofia was quick enough to recognize when she was outmatched.

"My apologies for the behavior of my peer, Mr. Barkeep," She said, even managing not to make it sound too forced.

"Apology accepted," Sean nodded. "Now, how can we solve this issue you seem to have before it's projected onto the rest of the city?"

Even after apologizing, Sofia held her ground, "I'm afraid I don't see how that's possible. Black Mask is a threat to our station. Our very livelihoods. And I have good reason to believe he won't abandon his goals. I won't ask him to. I'll just defend me and mine in whatever way proves necessary."

"I will not abandon my ambitions," Mask asserted without flinching. "I happen to think I'll do a much better job running things than these so-called 'lords'. And as much as I may try, these things can only be kept so civil."

"Hmm," Sean hummed in consideration. He turned to his partner, "Any ideas, Didi?"

"Perhaps," Miss Didi said humbly. Mask found himself very interested in what she had to say. While the specifics of her nature weren't clear to him yet, she was obviously important and powerful. Perhaps even more powerful than Mr. Barkeep. He'd be a fool not to take the suggestions of someone who was referenced as 'Lady Death'.

Didi continued, "I think it should be fine to let both parties work things out by themselves. So long as they have a safe, contained environment to do so in."

"Even if the only way they see forward is violence?" Sean clarified.

Didi nodded, "Even then. Think of it as an extension of the Dead End's neutrality."

Sean followed her train of thought, "An arena, perhaps?"

"Oh. My. God…" Harley exclaimed slowly with excited exhales. "Corrupt champions conquering for their crew~! Gangbanging Gladiators~! A Colesseum of Crime~!"

There was a pause as Harley's words set in. Everyone blinked. It… made sense…? Mask thought it through. He and the crime families could settle their disputes this way. By proxy in an arena. Like the dueling champions of old. No one else would be harmed. No collateral damage to speak of.

'Yes, this suggestion is going to go through,' Mask decided. 'I'll make sure of it.'

Because who would benefit the most from a solution decided by single combat? From conquest decided by a chosen champion? The families with their mundane options? Or Black Mask with his impossibly loyal, impossibly skilled troupe of Masks?

Unseen beneath his mask, a grin stretched into place. It was perfect. He could continue his conquest of Gotham's underworld without stepping on the toes of a powerful potential ally. There would be no need for innocent casualties if everything could be solved by two consenting 'gladiators'. Even Batman couldn't hope to protest all too much with this solution.

Mask came right out and stated his support firmly, "I'll happily cast my vote for that suggestion. This way, no innocent will be hurt or killed and the city shall stay solidly in one piece. Why, I don't know how I could refuse…"

He felt the crime lords' glares at his last line. With just that, he'd effectively backed them into a corner. Sofia, at the very least, understood that this solution would benefit Mask most of all. But she couldn't hope to reject it without coming across as difficult and sore.

She was the quickest to catch the nuances of the situation. And already, Mask could see her reevaluating her position. He wouldn't be surprised if she sought him out for an alliance very soon after all of this was decided. He could certainly work with that. The other crime lords were much slower on the uptake.

'Good. Let the incompetents flounder and die struggling,' Mask grinned.

"I suppose I can agree to this solution," Sofia said, quick to betray her 'allied' peers to make herself look good.

"Wha-…? Ah, shit," Franco cursed.

Antony Dimitrov just sighed, "I guess this is how we're gonna be doing things from now on."

Luke Sabatino was still in his timeout corner with the dunce cap on his head, dumb to the world around him.

Sean looked over at him sheepishly, "Oh… Uh, does it even matter if I bring him back into this conversation? The majority of you will still have voted in favor of the idea."

Antony snorted a laugh. Sofia's lips twitched as she suppressed a smile, "Even if his opinion will not change our decision, please release our resident dunce from his timeout, Mr. Barkeep. I'm sure he's learned his lesson by now."

"I don't know," Sean hedged. "He was rather rude to me."

"And the dunce cap is hilarious~!" Harley chimed. "Really fits the big ol' butthead~!"

Didi stared at both of them sternly, "Dear… Harley… Is that any way to treat our guests?"

Sighing, Sean conceded the point to her, "No…"

"Sorry, Didi," Harley added.

Didi nodded, satisfied, "Good. Now, I do believe that takes care of the primary business of this parlay. A solution has been reached. And I firmly expect both sides to keep their word. If they don't, I will be… quite cross."

Though she spoke normally, the effect was anything but. The crime lords nodded their heads like warned children. Even Mask felt overwhelming shame at the mere idea of disappointing her. And He didn't plan on breaking such a beneficial agreement in the first place!

"You know," Scarecrow said suddenly to break the silence. "I'm surprised we managed to get through all of that without the Joker showing up already. Is he… SCARED…?"

His statement was met with a chorus of groans, "God dammit, Scarecrow! You know better than that!"

"Ya freaking dingus!" Harley yelled.

Riddler shook his head sadly, "All that fear toxin is rotting your brain, Jon."

Scarecrow paused, considering what he'd done, "… Ah, fuck."

Mask rolled his eyes. Of course, someone would fuck that up. Saying that about the Joker — especially with the challenge of fear — was practically inviting him in. And as he expected, the door to the Dead End swung open not a minute later.

Joker strolled in, physically unable to stop himself from making a dramatic entrance. He wore a strangely modified children's backpack with tubes that led to nozzles beneath his sleeves. Suddenly, Mask was very thankful for the fact that his titular mask had a filter system. Joker Venom — what the pack was undoubtedly filled with — wasn't something you willingly messed around with.

Surprisingly, Joker wasn't accompanied by anyone. As deranged and twisted as he was, Mask knew he operated on certain expectations. Not a code, per se, but whatever happened to be the funniest or most dramatic option. Perhaps he was alone because the rest of them were and no one expected him to be. Or perhaps he just wanted to make any victory he gained that much sweeter.

"Why, hello, fools and idiots," Joker grinned, baring teeth that were just a touch too sharp. "Funny meeting you all here~ Such an unlikely cast of characters~ Is this a party I wasn't invited to~? Shame, shame~…"

"I don't see any fool here but you," Riddler glowered.

"What was that~?" The grin on Joker's face grew.

"Y-You heard me, fool!" Riddler shot back, stuttering slightly.

Joker laughed a harsh sound that hurt the ears of anyone who heard it, "Wonderful~! I always liked you, Edward. So smart. Why, you almost remind me of myself in certain ways~"

Riddler recoiled, "I'm nothing like you! Oh, God! Don't say something like that!"

Joker leaned forward in place, facing down the entire bar without a hint of fear, "Oh, but isn't it true~…?"

"Enough," Sean cut him off. "You don't get to harass my patrons, clown."

"Mr. Barkeep…" Joker snarled, flipping his mood completely in an instant. "Feeling big in the britches, are we? I told you I'd be back~ Are you surprised~? Scared~? Shaking behind that cool, collected persona of yours~?"

"Hardly," Sean scoffed. "I let you back in. I knew you couldn't resist crashing this party. Everyone did. You're getting predictable."

"You take that back right the fuck now!@#!" Pure rage shook the Joker from head to toe. It would have been comical out of context. As it was, the villains and crime lords at the table couldn't help but shy away.

"Eat me," Sean taunted. "What, can't even take a bit of shit talk? Are your little feelies hurt, JJ~?"

For a moment more, Joker shook. Then he stopped so abruptly Mask thought he was hallucinating. Joker's trademark grin returned, "I'm going to enjoy destroying everything you hold dear, Mr. Barkeep. You'll beg. Beg me to spare you even the littlest crumb. And I will. Just so you can rebuild and I can come back to do it all over again~"

Sean shook his head slowly, "That's not what's going to happen here. I only let you back into the Dead End because you're never going to leave. This is where the Joker meets his end. I hope you've made your peace-… Actually, I don't care. You're going to die here either way."

Baffled, Joker glanced at Batman who was sitting like a statue at the table, "You're just gonna let him get away with that, Batsy?"

Batman stared Joker down but didn't say a word. Or move a muscle. Mask was half-sure he wasn't even breathing. Joker waved his hand off to the side in confusion, testing to see if the hero was frozen or something. A Batarang flashed out to trim Joker's fingernails before anyone could blink, the only indication Batman was still just as capable as ever.

"He doesn't have a choice in the matter," Sean explained. "Your time has come and Death is calling collect, Joker."

He shook his head, tutting softly, "You really shouldn't have threatened the Dead End. We would have left you to your little jokes. But you did. You fucked around. So you're about to find out."

"You and what army?!" Joker snapped. It was the first time Mask had seen him off-guard. Batman sitting back and abiding a death was a first. Enough to put Joker off his rhythm.

"Really?" Sean deadpanned. "Look around you. You've made no shortage of enemies. Can you honestly tell me that a single person here would have any reason NOT to kick your ass?"

Looking around, that truth was plainly clear to see. Every villain was glaring at the Joker. The crime lords were more cautious but all of them now had pistols lying on the table in front of them.

Two-Face did something similar, loudly racking the slide of his firearm. Mask himself wasn't far behind either, holding his under the table. Riddler and Penguin had their canes out, slapping them menacingly against their palms. Catwoman 'casually' checked her claws. A freeze-ray sat in Mister Freeze's hands, his wife firmly behind him. Clayface was already shifting his malleable clay physiology into weapons.

Out of all of the glaring villains, none could match Harley and Ivy. Harley was already standing on top of her chair, her trademark mallet produced from seemingly nowhere. She was focused on Joker so hard that her eye was twitching.

Ivy had taken over the entire wooden table where the meeting had taken place. With her power, it morphed and grew. A wooden golem to match Clayface stood behind her. Standing in her shadow, the strangely ripped golem matched her arms-crossed posture.

Mask could have sworn he heard ghostly music emanating from the background whenever he looked at her, "GIOGIO~! GOLDEN WIND~!"

"I don't need an army anyway," Sean shook his head. "But I've promised Harley I'd let her get the first shot at you. And it seems the others want a piece as well. He's all yours, fellas. Don't worry. I'll handle the clean-up."

"Fine!" Joker's grin grew even more wild and manic as he made a show of shaking himself limber. "You wanna dance?! Let's dance!"

He tried to seize the initiative. Fanning his arms in wide arcs, Joker let loose with his famous Venom. Nothing happened. He blinked in surprise, pulling the unseen trigger a few more times to no avail.

Pausing for a moment, he pulled the backpack from his back to check it. Instantly, it exploded in a puff of impossibly comical black smoke. When it cleared, the Joker was left standing there with a face full of soot that obscured his usual clown makeup.

"Oh, crud…"

"Get his ass, boys!" Harley let out a cackling battle cry.

The Dead End descended into chaos. The crime lords and villains with guns opened fire at the Joker. Mask put a few shots down range as well but he didn't spray his whole magazine like some of his peers.

Not a single bullet touched the Joker. He 'danced' his way out of danger. Not agilely. Nor nimbly or even quickly. If anything his movements were clumsy. Yet absurdly effective all the same.

He tripped this way and that. His arms wheeled like a cartoon character to keep himself from falling. He jumped and twirled like a silly ballerina, only to face fault and scramble back to his feet in an instant. Every improbably clumsy dodge kept him perfectly out of harm's way.

"This the best you got~?" Joker taunted. "I could do this in my sleep! You'll never kill a clown like me unless it's funny!"

A clod of clay flung from Clayface made Joker trip and roll — quite literally — head over heels. When he sprang to his feet, he was met with a new problem. Though the gunfire stopped, it was immediately replaced by something else.

Practically as one mind, Riddler and Penguin swung at him with their canes. Riddler went high, Penguin went low. Joker jumped, somehow doing the limbo in mid-air.

He cackled, "Now, that's more like it! You've really got to work on your follow-through though, Riddler my dear~"

Then came Ivy's golem. It moved like the Flash and punched like Superman. Punch after punch after punch, it was all Joker could do to keep improbably falling out of the way.

"Muda muda muda muda muda muda~!" The standing golem cried.

Each impact against thin air sounded like a gunshot. Even as the golem missed, vines grew from nothing, striving to entangle the Joker. More and more, Ivy's plants grew until there was physically nowhere else for Joker to dodge clumsily.

As he was finally entangled, the golem vanished. It was instantly replaced by Harley. Her comically-sized hammer cocked back, she leaped into the space the golem just occupied. With the wrath of a wronged goddess, Harley continued right where the golem had left off.

"MUUUU-MOTHERFUCKING-DAAAA~!" She roared, swinging her mallet with all her might.

All Joker saw was an unstoppable freight train bearing down on him before he was flattened by Harley's swinging hammer. An explosion rocked the bar. The Joker flew, pirouetting through the air more like a children's toy than a person. He hit the wall hard, ricocheting and ragdolling onto the floor.

Never able to resist the bit — even when very nearly incapacitated —, Joker released a gag from his pocket. A pair of 'birds' circled his head, tweeting merrily to illustrate his daze.

"Did… Did anyone get the number of the truck that hit me…?" Joker asked woozily.

No one laughed. Which only made the situation funnier in Mask's mind. Sean walked over to stand above the Joker. After the damage Harley had done to him, Joker could barely move. But he still couldn't resist one last quip.

With shaky hands, he pulled an obvious prop gun from inside his jacket, pointing it up at Sean, "Ya… feelin' lucky… punk?"

Joker's trademark grin was weak as he moved to pull the trigger. Sean casually kicked out at the gun as he did. He didn't even take his hands out of his pockets.

The Joker's eyes widened but as weak and dazed as he was, he couldn't stop what was about to happen. The gun came to rest beneath his chin just as his finger finished squeezing the trigger.

There was a bang. A pop. But one that was out of place for a gunshot. Again, it seemed more like a prop sound than anything real. That air of fakeness didn't extend to the very real results.

Smoke drifted from the place where the muzzle and skin coincided. Joker's face froze in a rictus of shock and horror. Still grinning, his eyes told most of that story. A prop flag — saying 'Bang!' — pierced up through his skull to pop comedically out the top of his head.

And with one final joke, the Joker fell dead.