Why So Serious?

by Joker the Hedgehog

Rating: teen
Tags: Crossover, Dark, Alternate Universe, Human, Anthro, Adventure
Length: 5911

Brendan Kane is Displaced as The Joker, and wages a lethal war against Equestria's criminal underworld, and deals with the Princesses and Mane 6's less-than-approving opinions of him. Oh, this is going to be fun!

Now available on fanfiction.net

New cover art provided by blackflash.

Part of the Terra-Equus 47 Universe.

Brendan Kane used to be New York chemist by day, and a dreaming club-goer by night. However, this dichotomy comes crashing down when Brendan dies saving his co-workers, only to be mysteriously reborn as The Joker, armed with all of the befitting toys and a desire to eradicate Equestria's criminal underworld with a nice, big, smile. Unfortunately for Mr. J, his methods of dispensing justice, which usually results in the death of the criminal or criminals who cross his path, gets him on the wrong side of Princess Celestia, her sister Luna, and their champions, the Elements of Harmony.

While Joker is placed on the Most Wanted list by those he sees as mere lackeys or do-nothing rulers, superpowered criminals and assassins begin to turn up all over Equestria. The Joker and The Elements are forced to set aside their differences and work together to put an end to these threats, and birth new new alliances in the process.

Perhaps, even more than a simple alliance, in the case of a certain pink party pony.

Warning: [spoiler]Contains Joker X Pinkie Pie, Twilight X Spike, and Vinyl Scratch X Octavia. Other pairings to be determined.[/spoiler]

Co-Written With and Edited by: The Narwhal Assassin

Featured on August 27, 2016. Thanks a bunch guys!

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2017-01-06 17:04:53 UTC

Chapter 1: Mugging Gone Stranger

Everfree Asylum- 11:30 PM

Pale light shined into the asylum from the moon above, giving slight illumination to the darkened corridors and hallways. Lights out had been over an hour ago, but the inmate of cell 1995 seemed apathetic to the passage of time.

In fact, he didn’t seem to care about anything at all. He had been sitting in his cell for hours, staring out at the guards of Everfree Asylum.

“I want my phone call,” he would state as they walked by, matter-of-factly and with a grin on his face. Though, that was not unusual. In fact, all he ever did was smile.

He had been apprehended near the neighborhood where most agreed that Ponyville ended an Canterlot began. The cell’s occupant had been killing criminals for the last seven months, even going so far as to take out crime lords themselves along with all their subordinates, including Police and Royal Guardsponies who, as it turned out, were on the take, all while using a decidedly unusual set of...tools of the trade.

The cell’s occupant perked up when he heard the door to his cell begin to open, light flooding his dark chamber. Several guards entered, quickly seizing the occupant and cuffing his hands and ankles, before pulling him to his feet and escorting him out of the cell.

“Ooh, am I finally going to get my phone call?” asked the unknown figure, a light laugh in his voice.

“No.” A guard growled, “Who in Tartarus would call you anyway?”

“I’ll have you know that I have a wide array of friends.” The prisoner giggled, “Then again, those might just be the voices…”

“There’s a couple of Ponyville detectives here who want to talk to you.” one of the guards muttered, dragging the man down the hallway.

“That sounds delightful,” the prisoner laughed, stretching out the “e” as they arrived at one of the asylum’s interrogation rooms. Upon opening the door, the figure caught sight of two figures. The first, a lavender-skinned young woman, toying with long indigo hair, bangs split by a prominent horn. The second, a young-looking man-dragon, still tall despite his seeming youth. She wore a red jacket and khaki pants, with a pair of polished black shoes. He wore a black shirt covered by a grey overcoat, a matching pair of khakis and like shoes. Both sported off-gold detective badges, emblazoned with a shape of intertwined unicorn horn, pegasus wing, and a simple hoof.

The figure remained absolutely silent as the guards placed him in a grey chair and left, one muttering some degree of well-wishes. The woman cleared her throat, and spoke with a light sort of voice, “Good evening. My name is Twilight Sparkle, and this is my partner Spike.”

“Evening, my sweet.” the prisoner chuckled out, noting the slight tensing of the dragon. Twilight sat down in a chair opposite.

“We would like to ask you some questions. Firstly, however,” Twilight motioned to Spike. The dragon moved a lie detector onto the table between the detective and prisoner.

“Oh boy…” the prisoner groaned, “You know these don’t work, right?”

“That’s not true.” The dragon piped up as he attached the machine to the inmate’s arm.

“Believe me, boy, I know these things. Don’t work on crazies like me.” The inmate laughed. Twilight marked something down in a notepad.

“You recognize that you’re ‘crazy’, then?” Twilight asked, offering a smile.

“Don’t pretend with the smile.” The inmate smiled wide, showing off a full set of off-white teeth, “You know, you remind me of this other psychiatrist that I used to know…”

Twilight fidgeted slightly in her seat as the man stared her down, “Off-topic. Can you tell us your name?”

The man seemed to think, “Don’t remember. I think it was...Napier, or something? Maybe Richardson? Mark? I can’t remember for the life of me. They call me Green-Haired Wacky Man.”

Twilight gave him a look of disbelief, “Okay, Mister...Man, I-”

“You see?! Didn’t go off, and I’m lying through my teeth here!” The inmate cackled, “Call me ‘Joker’. Apt, right?”

Twilight seemed to compose herself, “I see. Joker. Interesting name.”

The Joker smiled wider, “Sweet girl. Tell me, how do you feel about acid baths?”

Spike seized the Joker by the collar, “Are you threatening her?”

“Now why would I threaten someone I just met?!” Joker laughed, “Although, that does sound like me. Or does it?”

“Spike, let him go,” Twilight gave Spike a look. The dragon complied and released The Joker from his grip. “Now, then, what’s this about acid baths?”

Joker chuckled a little. “Simple. You see, I’m of the belief that the best kind of past is multiple choice. But even if I choose A or B or C or M or X, they always seem to end with me falling into a vat of chemicals in some way shape or form, and with me coming out looking like...well, this.

The Joker held his arms as far apart as his restraints would allow, as if he was showing off his thin, lanky body.

“Sometimes they involve a giant bat monster chasing after me, sometimes they don’t. Although… lately, there’s been one particular version of my past that seems to be a bit more… clear… than the others,” Joker said.

“And… what version of your past is this?” Twilight was writing on her little notepad quickly.

The Joker gave a laugh and began to tell the detectives about the latest past he’d bubbled into his test.

…

A young man was running.

A young man, short blonde locks swishing around his boyish face, jumpsuit bagging around his thin form, was running, running fast from that fire.

Perhaps a bad decision, he looked back and saw the bright-burning fire through his cracked glasses. Burning as a regular fire by sight, but the smell and the smoke and the faint popping noise had it burning as some marriage of flame and chemical.

Nature and man, Surtr and Freyr, burning together, opposites attracting as the world falls to pieces the young man almost chuckled at that. If he lived, he might break out his little poetry notebook back home. He let his thoughts briefly carry him back to his little flat in the Lower East Side, before the roaring inferno brought him back. Catwalks fell, columns collapsed, walls shook and broke. The man was reminded vaguely of a scripture.

None of his co-workers seemed to know how the fire had started, but that barely mattered at this point. Despite valiant attempts at containment, things spiraled out of control quickly, and the only thing left to do was evacuate, a task easier said than done with Iblis's wet dream burning behind them.

Come on! You’re almost at the exit! The man screamed in his thoughts as he drew closer to a rectangle of light, obscured only slightly by smoke. Freedom.

“Brendan!”

A quick glance over his shoulder, and he saw two of his fellows, friends even, holding onto the railing of what was once a catwalk for dear life. Brendan noticed the vat of chemical bubbling underneath. For a moment, he had to wonder if Fate was a fan of comic books, or if it just had a sick sense of humor.

The thought of running crossed his mind. It died quickly as he ran towards the catwalk’s still-intact ladder, finding himself soon staring down at his comrades.

“Will!” Brendan yelled, holding out a gloved hand. Will was hoisted up by a strength Brendan never knew he was capable of. Nathan was ascended with the same seemingly-unnatural force. The three stood for a moment, before hell seemed to close around them in an orchestra of clanging steel and exploding chemicals.

The three began to run. The rectangle of freedom seemed to glow brighter.

Brendan was the first to hear the flames creep up, and (even more unsettling), hear them seem to stop for a moment. Almost as if the universe had paused for dramatic effect. The chemical vat that had so nearly cost his friends their lives roared up, flaming mixture exploding behind them.

Split-second. Adrenaline. The world seemed to slow. Brendan pushed his friends forward, edging them into the light. The catwalk under him gave away, and he was left holding himself up by a loose grip.

The grip faltered entirely as a shower of debris came down on his hand. He fell.

Falling.

Falling.

It burned, and what was once Brendan Kane burned with his factory.

…

“At least,” the Joker looked to the ceiling inquisitively, “I think that’s how it happened. Maybe my pregnant wife was involved somehow? A red mask, too?”

He began to laugh.

Twilight continued to write on her notepad, “Now, you said that your real name is...Brendan, yes? Odd name. Nothing like we have here in Equestria.”

“Again, could be. Could be Jack, Mark, John, Kevin, Harvey, Heath.” The Joker reclined in his chair, balancing on the back two legs, “And what the hell is an ‘Equestria’? Isn’t that some sort of Canadian provisional government?”

“What’s ‘Canadian’? And you don’t know about Equestria?” Twilight cocked her head to the side.

“Sweetie, do I look like any of you? I mean, it’s not like I have a weird skin tone and technicolor hair, right?” The Joker stared before bursting into further laughter.

Spike slammed a fist on the table, “Twilight, he just seems crazy to me. If he doesn’t even know what Equestria is, he can’t be sane.”

Twilight shot her partner a look. “Well, Mr. Joker, we’re in Equestria right now. Constitutional monarchy, largest economy on Terram-Equus, pr-”

The Joker let out a loud, howling laugh. “Equus? Horse?! You’re kidding me! All this time I’ve been slaughtering scumbags and crime lords, even at the cost of becoming one of this place’s most wanted criminals, and it was a land of magical horses all along?!”

His laugh slowly became a sort of humming, sounding like some kind of a theme song. “Is your reigning monarch named Hassenfield?”

Spike and Twilight glanced at each other, having no idea what this clown was talking about.

“Erm, yes, now about these…’scumbags and crime lords’ that you’ve killed. It’s been reported that police officers were included in this.”

“Dirty police. If the cops are dirty like me, where’s the fun in being the ‘bad guy’?”

“What can you tell us about them? Why kill them in the first place, rather than allowing the Royal Guard or CPD to handle?”

Joker chuckled a little. “What Police and Royal Guard? As far as I can tell, that rainbow-haired Lieutenant and her Captain are the only honest law enforcers in this place. Those criminals and crime lords I’ve killed had their chance, and they wasted it, along with their lives. As for the dirty cops and soldiers, I’m merely delivering the punchline for the bad jokes they seem to think their oaths and badges are.”

Spike raised a brow. “What do you mean, they wasted it?”

“Well, take my big debut for example. My grand entrance to the stage!”

…

Two women walked, one stumbling slightly, the other walking with a certain degree of grace expected of Canterloters.

“Vinyl, you know that much alcohol in someone’s system can kill, yes?” The more graceful of the two spoke up, a light accent permeating her speech. She brushed a few stray brunette bangs from her grey forehead. The black dress clung to her like a second skin.

“T-Tavee, y-you knouu I like livinnh on tha edge…” The inebriated woman giggled out, looking at her companion through her vibrant-purple glasses. She ran an ivory hand through locks of electric blue hair, toying lightly with a prominent horn. Her dress was much like her body, white with hints of blue and purple. Not a dress, but jacket and pants. A certain degree of infemininity could be gleaned.

“I think a big part of that is ‘living’.”

“Tavi”, or Octavia as her proper name was, chuckled as she looked to the sky. Luna’s moon had been raised while the two women were in a club. A few scattered clouds, light breeze, not too chilly. A good night.

“Hey, Tavi, you knou thish guy followinh ussh?”

Octavia cast a quick glance behind her. A man behind the two was toying with a cigarette. His charcoal skin was nigh-indistinguishable from his black jacket. The jacket’s hood was upon his head, but a few strands of cyanish hair stuck out beyond its placement.

Something about the man unsettled Octavia. Perhaps it was merely a sense of paranoia on her part, but Octavia nonetheless grabbed Vinyl’s hand and increased pace. She made an effort not to walk too fast, but nerves fought with her critical thought.

Everything’s fine. Everything’s fine, Octavia.

Glancing over her shoulder again, Octavia saw that the man was keeping up with them, and that he had four friends joining him in the chase.

Everything’s not fine.

“Tavi, was goin’ non,” slurred Vinyl in both drunkenness and confusion as Octavia sped up to a noticeable degree.

“Vinyl, don’t panic, but I think we’re being followed.” Octavia noted the panic seeping into her voice. Octavia heard footfalls behind her. She thought things like this were a myth, that they only happened in movies. Right?

Perhaps against her better judgement, Octavia pulled Vinyl into a dark alleyway, following it to a hypothetical safety. Four more men blocked their path.

“Ladies!”

Octavia turned. The charcoal man stood surrounded by his fellows. Octavia noticed two feathered wings stretching themselves out from behind his back. A pegasus?

Octavia tightened her grip on Vinyl’s hand, “I-I don’t want any trouble. So, if y-you could just-”

The man smiled, “Sweetie, I don’t want any trouble. I mean, I mean, boys, have I ever gone out seeking trouble before?”

The men murmured various negations, aside from a single crimson individual, “I mean, not unless they try anything. Then you do somethin’.”

Vinyl snickered, the pegasus put a hand to his temple, “Garble, what have we told you about facade?”

Garble coughed and made an exaggerated scowl, “I get you, Thunderlane.”

The pegasus made a noise of disbelief, “And what did I say about anonym-Fine, whatever, I’ll deal with you later.”

“Ladies,” Thunderlane forced a smile, “it’s like they said. I’m not unreasonable, I’m not violent. I’m just in a bad place in life.”

Octavia tightened her grip on Vinyl’s hand. Vinyl chuckled drunkenly, “Well, that’s not good.”

Thunderlane clapped his hands together, “See? She gets it! I’d like to get out of this bad place, but poverty is a pretty...constricting force. So, since you two seem so nice, I’m assuming that you’d want to help us out. A donation, perhaps?”

“D-donation?” Octavia recoiled slightly.

“Give us your money!” Garble shouted out. A smack sent him into silence.

“As my…” Thunderland cast Garble a look, “partner… said, we need you to hand over all of your bits right now-”

Laughter rang out in the alley. The thugs looked around for its source.

A light rap of footfalls signalled the giggler’s approach. Out of the relative shadows created by the night walked what seemed to be a clown from the dreams of a demented child, with chalk skin and bright green hair that contrasted nicely with the dark purple suit.

Thunderlane chuckled, a slight shakiness to his voice, “Who the hell are you?”

The clown smiled, rosy red lips stretching over yellowed teeth, “If you’d like, I’ll give you my business card.”

Thunderland cried out as something imbedded itself in his arm. He turned to his gang, “What the hell are you idiots waiting for?! Kill the freak!”

As the men rushed the clown, Thunderlane pulled out the object in his arm. It was a playing card, razor sharp.

It was The Joker.

Garble pulled a knife, pulling his arm back. The clown grinned, ducking underneath Garble’s thrust. He grabbed the Dragon from underneath, pulling him into a choke-hold as the knife fell from Garble’s hand.

“Wanna see a magic trick?” The Joker asked, grabbing the knife in midair. He jammed it into the wall by the handle, “I’m gonna make the knife disappear.”

Joker pushed Garble into the wall as another thug ran towards the two. Joker stopped at the opposite wall, and kneed the thug in the side. He grabbed the street-tough by the arm and slammed him on top of Garble, sandwiching the Dragon between the wall and his comrade.

Thunderlane ran to Garble, pulling him from the wall. A handle stuck out from his throat.

“Ta-da! It’s gone!” The Joker kicked Thunderlane in the face, breaking the peagsus’s nose.

Octavia stared in shock. Vinyl was beginning to sober, if only by a margin, “Tavii, whass happenin’? Who’sss that?”

Octavia grabbed Vinyl’s hand and began to step back. The Joker turned from kicking Thunderlane, laughing, “What are you two running off for? Don’t you want to enjoy the show?”

“S-stay away from us!” Octavia shouted, her voice positively trembling.

The Joker laughed, hunching over with his arms on his stomach, “Th-that’s funny! I save you, and you’re gonna run! Who do you think I am? The big, bad, ba-”

A thug hit Joker in the back of the head with a wooden baseball bat. The clown fell to his knees, coughing, “Y-you know, don’t hit the prisoner in the head. Gets them all dizzy, can’t feel anything else…”

The bat swung towards his head again, but a purple-clad arm shot out and grabbed it in midair. The Joker ripped it from his assailant's hand, and slammed the handle into the thug’s abdomen.

The thug fell to the ground. The Joker flipped the bat around and hit himself in the hand, “See?! Nothing!”

The thug began to stand, but a blow to the back sent him down again, “Wow, that looked like it really hurt…”

Another blow, this time to the shoulder, “Whoa, that looked like it hurt a lot more…

“Let’s clear this up. What hurts more? A or B?” The Joker started laughing as he took the bat to the thug with an almost childlike enthusiasm.

Thunderlane picked himself up from the ground, the pain from his nose making his eyes tear up. He saw the two women staring in shock. Thunderlane growled, “You bitch!”

He ran at Octavia, who started to run off. Thunderlane tried to grab at her, but caught the hood of Vinyl’s jacket instead.

“Vinyl!” Octavia cried out.

“Freak! Get off Rover now, or this little one gets it!” Thunderlane pulled Vinyl into a choke hold, placing a knife at her throat.

The Joker stood, panting and giggling lightly, “You see, I’d like to ‘get off him’. But I don’t think that’d help him much.”

Thunderlane looked at Rover’s unmoving form as Joker’s laughter rang out, “You animal!”

“You’re one to talk, trying to mug people on the streets.” The Joker wagged his finger, “Tisk-tisk. This city doesn’t need scum like you. It needs a better class of criminal.”

“What the hell do you mean?!” Thunderlane pressed the knife harder against Vinyl’s throat, a thin line of red beginning to trail down.

“You don’t stand for anything…” Joker began to walk closer, “You’re like little animals just surviving. You aren’t living!”

“Don’t get any closer! I’ll kill her, I swear to God!” Thunderlane cried out.

“Swear to m-” Joker laughed harder, “Nope! Not gonna say it! You see, I stand for something. I believe in something…”

The Joker stood only a few feet from Thunderlane and Vinyl, “What doesn’t kill you only makes you stranger. Test it for me.”

The Joker threw another razor card. Thunderlane sidestepped quickly, and the card imbedded itself in the alley wall. Thunderlane chuckled, “Missed me, you freak!”

The Joker giggled, “Did I?”

He lifted his sleeve and pressed a button on his wrist. Behind Thunderlane, the world seemed to burst into flames. Thunderlane was thrown forward, and his knife cut deep into Vinyl’s throat before flying out of his hand from the force. The unicorn slammed into a wall, while Thunderlane was forced to the ground, his back burning and stinging.

“Ah! Fucking freak!” Thunderlane cried out in pain. The Joker stood above him.

“Feeling strange?” The Joker said as he picked the pegasus up and dusted off his jacket, “If you aren’t, don’t worry, I can fix it. I can make this one bad day for you real quick…”

The Joker, keeping a good grip on Thunderlane, pulled out some sort of injection-gun filled with a green fluid. “You look glum. It’s okay…”

The Joker drove the gun’s needle into Thunderlane’s neck, giggling, “I’ll put a smile on your face…”

The Joker let Thunderlane fall to the ground. As the pegasus tried to get up, he began to giggle, and his face began to stretch into a grin.

“Wha-ha-ha haha- what did y-y-yah ha ha ha- you just do-ho-hoo-hoo-do to me-he-he hehehahahaha?!” Thunderlane tried to shout through growing laughter.

“Simple. I just gave you and those around you a bit more joy in life,” The Joker began to laugh alongside his victim, a sinister grin on his face. He watched Thunderlane’s laughing grow harder and louder and quicker, to the point that he seemed to start suffocating.

“It’s like my surgeon always said, ‘if you gotta go, go with a smile!’”

The Joker’s laughter joined in intensity with Thunderlane’s, until the pegasus’s began to wheeze and his voice began to die. Thunderlane’s face steeled itself in a nightmarish grin, and his body went rigid and motionless.

The Joker cast a glance at the carnage and smiled, then turning his attention to the victims of his victims. Octavia was holding a hand tightly to Vinyl’s neck, trying in vain to stop the river-like flow of blood.

“Move over, let Doctor J see what he can-,” Joker was cut off by Octavia violently shaking her head, cradling Vinyl in her arms.

“Look, lady- well, you are a lady, right? Not some sort of weird alien?” Joker pointed to her face, “I mean, we don’t really have vibrant purple eyes and grey skin where I come from.”

The clown looked at the sky, “Actually, where even am I?”

He shook his head, almost like clearing his mind like an Etch-A-Sketch “Look, lady, if I wanted to hurt you two, you’d be laying on the ground with a big red smile. Now, let me have a look.”

Reluctantly, Octavia moved aside as Joker stared at the deep cut with something akin to amusement.

“Aww, that’s too bad...,” Joker looked somewhat solemn.

“What do you mean?” Octavia asked, a hint of panic in her voice, “Is it fatal?”

Joker scoffed, “I wish. She’ll live. What a bummer…”

Octavia felt a strong compulsion to hit the clown, but any such thoughts were drowned out by the sudden entrance of police sirens.

“Well, that’s my cue to exit,” Joker stood up and dug around in his pockets. “Look, if you get into trouble again, be sure to give me a call. Here’s my card.”

As the Joker ran off, Octavia looked at the same card that had been inside Thunderlane’s arm.

The Joker whooped as he ran a small ways away from his latest playtime, his eyes meeting his beauty. The bright violet paint contrasted well with the tinted-windows, both contrasting with the pure white of the license plate.

“YSOSER1OUS” was the inscription.

The Joker threw open the door and landed in the plush velvet seating. The engine roared to life, and the purple lamborghini raced off into the night.

It reminded the Joker of a song, almost.

"They see me rollin,' they so serious,” The Joker began to sing as he watched two police cruisers come into the view of his mirror.

“Bats is tryin' to catch me ridin' Harley,” Two more.

“Tryin' to catch me ridin' Harley, tryin' to catch me ridin' Harley," The Joker’s laughter rang out into the night as he sped away, six cop cars on his flank.

Chapter 2: Chasing Clowns

“Is this some kind of…”

The Joker smiled at Spike, “Some kind of what?”

Spike looked away, “Nothing.”

Twilight felt nauseous. The way the Joker had talked of the slaughter, the way he had sounded so amused, the way his voice had dipped into disappointment at the mention of Vinyl Scratch’s injuries. It was just… sickening.

“Y-you mentioned a car,” Twilight composed herself, “where did you get a car when you said you didn’t know where you were at the time?”

The Joker opened his mouth and closed it. A look of confusion came upon him, “I...I don’t know…”

“What do you mean, you don’t know?” Spike slammed a fist down on the table, “You don’t just suddenly have a car without remembering where you got it!”

“I mean I don’t know. It was right there when I woke up in this abandoned party favor factory, along with the rest of my toys,” The Joker grinned. “Say… why are you two so interested in what I have to say, anyway? Hmm? How do you two fit into my little comedy tour? The detectives in charge of the investigation? Or are you fans?”

Twilight and Spike glanced at each other. “Well, yes, we-”

“Splendid!” The Joker tried to stick a hand down his shirt, “Where’s my pen? I’ll give you two some autographs!”

Twilight put a hand to the bridge of her nose, “ We are the detectives in charge of investigating your ‘comedy tour,’ as you call it.”

“Ooh! Let me guess, Major Crimes Unit?” The Joker howled with laughter when Twilight gave a tiny nod. “I knew a few good ‘ol boys back home who worked in the MCU. If memory serves, they died in an exploding cell phone incident. Caused entirely by me, of course.”

“Wait a minute,” Spike piped up, “You told us earlier that you worked in some kind of factory. Now you’re telling us that you’ve always been a criminal?”

“Did I say something like that?” The Joker shrugged, “Look, if I’m gonna have a past, I’d prefer it to be multiple choice. Maybe I was a white-collar worker, maybe I was a white-collar killer, I can’t really remember back home too well…”

“And where is home exactly?” Twilight asked.

“I’m sure you’ve never heard of it, but it’s a city pretty similar to this one. ‘Gotham City’, they call it. It’s just off the coast of New Jersey, if memory serves, on the other side of the Gotham River.” The Joker grinned with nostalgia.

Twilight scowled lightly. Everything the Joker was saying didn’t have any sort of backing in her mind. It was like he was talking about…

Twilight thought of a mirror, and began to write furiously in her notebook.

After a few moments of silence, the Joker coughed, “So…”

Twilight looked up, and the Joker went on, “Am I still needed? Do I need to answer any questions about what I had for breakfast before I started my tour? Or perhaps I should drop my pants so you can hypothesize the origins of my craziness?”

Spike grabbed the Joker by the hair, “I’d prefer if you didn’t talk to her like that.”

“Oh! I get it now! So, you two are dating?” the Joker chuckled.

Spike growled, the scales on his face flattening slightly, “That’s not-”

 “I mean, you two do realize that a dragon and a...human-pony-hybrid can’t... well, you know...”

“Let’s keep focused here,” said Twilight, unnerved and slightly disgusted, “You told us about your car, and trailed off at the altercation with the PPD. Would you mind elaborating on that?”

The Joker seemed to give it some thought.“Depends,” he finally said after a few moments.

“Depends on what?” asked Twilight.

“It depends on whether or not you’re willing to share your side of the story with me. How exactly did you and lizard-lips over there get yourselves mixed up in my tour?” Joker smiled.

“That's none of your damn-” Spike began, trailing off at a dismissive gesture from Twilight.

“Very well, I’ll tell you how we got involved with your ‘tour,’ but only after you tell us what happened during and after that car chase,” Twilight put her pen to the notepad.

Joker heaved a sigh. “Fair enough, I suppose…”

…

“Damn cops are really persistent! And that is not funny,” Joker growled to himself as the passengers in two of the eight cop cars that were on the tail of his “Joker-Mobile” began shooting at him, evidently playing for keeps. A devious smirk flashed across his face as he grabbed some kind of modified revolver from the passenger seat of his car. He rolled down the window, sticking his upper body out to face the cops.

“Let’s get wild!” The Joker yelled as he opened fire, not too concerned about keeping his eyes on the road, or that he’d just ran down several ponies, including, but not limited to, a proposing boyfriend, a newly-minted hooker, and this one overweight teen cradling a video game to his chest as if it were a baby.

Whether Joker was actually aiming, or if it was simply very lucky shot, one of his bullets managed to hit and pop a tire. The Joker howled with laughter as the cruiser flipped, landing roof-first on a fire hydrant, the red cylinder impaling itself into the metal roof. The hydrant began spurting water through the various openings of the car as the officers sat limp in their seats. The Joker lost himself in laughter for a moment.

Suddenly, he lurched forward, cutting his back against the rim of his Lamborghini's window. He turned his head sharply, looking at the front of his vehicle. He began to chuckle as his vehicle crashed into a collection of construction equipment, flipping much like the police cruiser.

His world began to spin, his neck jerked back and forth uncomfortably, and his laughter rang into the night as he died-

…

“That’s not what happened. You’re right here.” Spike growled.

“Trying to make the story more colorful.”

…

His world began to spin, his neck jerked back and forth uncomfortably, and his laughter rang into the night as his Joker-Mobile landed on the pavement with a loud crash.

The following police cars stopped dead in their tracks, several officers exciting and holding pistols to the now-trashed car.

Suddenly, a series of screams erupted from the bright purple vehicle. A few officers ran to the wreck, looking inside.

“You alright?!” A young cop yelled into the wreck. His head suddenly exploded into a shower of red as the clown crawled out the other side of the vehicle, his pistol in his hand, and ducked down behind it. On his face was a look of despair.

“Step away from the vehicle and put your arms over your head!” An officer shouted.

The Joker faked a cry of anguish as he rubbed a hand over his trashed ride. He sobbed, “Baby! Baby! You’ve killed my baby!”

“I said move away from the vehicle and put your arms over your head!” the officer aimed his pistol at the Joker’s head, down on the pavement next to his ‘baby’, “Do it now!”

Bawling loudly as he reached inside his coat, the Joker pulled out a match. In a quick flash of motion, he lit it on the pavement and threw it to his ride.

“Sayonara, soldier! Godspeed!” The Joker shouted, cackling like a madman. Several officers fired wildly as the match fell, some coming close, and some even impacting with a wet sound.

The police barely had time to run before the world was set ablaze, the Joker’s car blowing into a maelstrom of twisted metal and blazing embers. Several officers were thrown to the ground or set ablaze, all losing track of the Joker, who was able to slip away in the midst of the chaos.

…

“The CPD reports that your trail ran cold for the next five months.” Twilight scowled at the next line in her notes, “The story of the ‘Crazy-Clown Man’ would’ve been funny if you hadn’t killed seven cops.”

“What can I say?” The Joker shrugged mockingly, “I’m an overachiever.”

“Five months. How did you not get arrested in that time?” Twilight cocked her head to the side, “The press was kept in the dark about everything that happened between then and now, but we’ve been keeping track of what you’ve done. A crusade against organized crime?”

“Of course!” The Joker suddenly shouted, “They are the lowest kind of criminal! No matter how organized they are, they only want material things, like money. They aren’t fighting for a larger purpose. They’re like animals feeding on roadkill. Existing, not living.”

“You killed hundreds. Over half of them were just petty crooks, but a few were known crime bosses," said Twilight, looking over her notes. "Why? What are you trying to do? If they were just ’existing’, why bother with them?"

"Why?" A wicked gleam came to Joker’s eye "I couldn't help but notice that this place was a little short in the 'masked-vigilante-who-jumps-out-of-the-shadows-and-beats-up-useless-thugs' department, so I decided to fill the void."

Twilight and Spike looked at each other, clearly confused.

“What do you mean by that?” asked Spike.

The Joker just smiled smugly, “Ah-ah-ah, I answered your questions, now you answer mine.”

“How we got involved?” Twilight seemed to sit up just a tad straighter, “Well, we are the PPD. If a criminal goes on a killing spree, it’s our job to find that criminal and put him through the system.”

The Joker started cackling, “So, you two are that kind of cop.”

Spike scowled, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Ah, the innocence of youth.” The Joker sighed, mock-dreamily, “So idealistic. Sweetie, I think your notes are incomplete. At least half of my, er, victims were cops.”

Twilight’s eyes widened just a fraction, though her feelings were far more pronounced. “Cops? That’s ridiculous. Equestria has a strict anti-corruption poli-”

The Joker laughed, before finally devolving into a few giggles, “Tell me, how long exactly have you two been on the force?”

“A couple of months” Spike cocked a brow.

“And no one’s offered either of you a taste?” The Joker smiled knowingly.

“A taste? A taste of what?” asked Twilight.

“Money. Power. Influence. Security,” explained Joker. “Every policeman wants to be kept safe, and they’ll become die-hard psychopaths just to get it. Half the crime lords in this city have police captains wrapped around their finger. Well, I suppose that number is more like a quarter now...

Twilight and Spike glanced at each other. Twilight spoke up, “We’ll have to verify this information. To be honest, I’m inclined to believe that you’re lying.”

“Oh?”

Twilight stood, “Some people justify their crimes by some declaration of moral superiority. They say that they’re doing a good deed, and that helps them sleep at night.”

The Joker chuckled softly, “Dearie, I sleep like a baby at night, and I know exactly what I’ve done.”

With that, Twilight and Spike gestured for the remaining guards to enter into the room.

“I think I have all that I need,” Twilight told a guard as she looked to the clown, “I have an idea on who-or-what he might be. If I need anything else, I’ll come straight here.”

Twilight, accompanied by Spike, made for the door.

“Goodbye!” The Joker cried out, “We’ll have lunch!”

The slam of the door might not have been entirely accidental.