Every incarnation of “The Joker” has a twist on how he became that way…
Here is another one for your entertainment.
Setting: A.R.G.U.S. archives vault.
“Burn it.” Amanda Waller orders. “All of it.”
The technician took all the “PROJECT ULTRA” boxes and placed them on the trolley. Boxes labeled “Retroviral Therapy Protocol MH” and stacks of manila envelopes with a red “TOP SECRET//NF” added to the pile.
“Are you sure Amanda?” Asked a bearded man wearing spectacles, “The results showed promise.”
“All of it.” Waller commanded in a firm tone. “I completely disagree with your assessment Dr. Crane.”
“But the lack of inhibition, the ability to ignore pain, I mean the IQ boost alone is worth exploring.” Dr. Crane responded, a wheedling need in his voice. “Maybe if we didn’t start with mathematics students, maybe a subject from the humanities would have more humanity….”
“We took a brilliant mathematician in a Ph.D program and made a sociopath madman who thinks like a supercomputer, plans operations like Sun Tzu, and only finds enjoyment in upsetting the natural progression of history which he can now visualize in perfect clarity.” Waller said factually. “He cut off his own finger and palm tissues to escape, then deliberately jumped into a vat of caustic chemicals to trigger the implanted DNA retrovirus therapy to make it so we couldn’t track him using DNA hounds from skin cell shedding.”
“Oh I’m sure he’ll show up sooner or later.” Dr. Crane replied.
“I’m sure he will too.” Weller agreed. “Which is why when he does nothing about him, or ‘it’ will lead back to A.R.G.U.S.”
“What about the other subjects?” Dr. Crane, “I’ve, I mean we’ve invested so much into the chimera technology that ending it now is criminal.”
“What other subjects?” Agent Weller asked Dr. Crane with a blank face.
“Wha? NO!” Dr. Crane ran from the vault, not stopping until he reached the lab to find technicians in biohazard level 4 suits hosing blood out of the cages. The gorilla, the dog, the alligator were nowhere to be seen.
“NOooo!” Screamed Dr. Crane, until the sedative dart hit him in the side of the neck.
“Full course of amnesia treatment, the last six months at least.” Agent Weller ordered. “I never should have let that madman open up the old CIA Ultra files.”
Months later Dr. Crane came out of his coma and resumed his normal life as a doctor at Arkham Asylum. He didn’t remember ever working there before, but memory loss was quite normal his recovery team informed him.
On the waterfronts of Gotham city, a pale man with no qualms about violence began laughing his way to the top of the underworld crime syndicates. To him, the entire world was a joke, and the only enjoyment he could find was in watching the ants scramble after he upset the nest.