BATMAN: THREE JOKERS (2020)

Batman: Three Jokers #1 (Jason Fabok & Brad Anderson)

     “So many--” he’s clutching his briefcase tightly, thumbs twiddling with one and the other nervously. He walks, sort of hunched over, head sunken into his collar like a turtle with it’s shell. They’re all so beautiful, the line up of girls.      “--choices.” Clearing his throat as he says this last bit aloud. “What would you--” he turned to the Madame, with what could be construed as a smile, “--recommend?”      The meek little man had the sides of his head shaven, with what-- at first-- was slick black hair but had been ruffled and disheveled looking. His eyes were this sort of pale green that seemed to be almost muted, like the rest of him. A white labcoat hung off his limbs like a child wearing a Ghost costume on Halloween. It was odd because it was usually this type of man you'd expect to see at a brothel but there was something... peculiar about him.

     Like something out of Taxi Driver, there was a wrist-bound mechanical holster in the sleeve of the hand that wasn’t hidden behind the wall. It sprung to life and immediately filled his right hand with it’s weight, index finger instinctively wrapping around the trigger. That shrieking laughter left his lips again as he fired off a total of 4 shots from what seemed to be a snub nose revolver, making a sideways sprint to the open balcony as he did so he could jump off it’s railing. He had a suspicion that she didn’t come alone, although she was the only person in that room with him, he imagined she must have had some sort of insurance up her sleeve. That was when-- while he was wiping his face-- he noticed a glimmer reflect off against the chrome towel rack that wasn’t the bathroom fluorescent. Could’ve been nothing or could’ve been a sniper from the parallel building.              (Only one way to find out)      They weren’t that high up and so when he jumped, he remembered that the awning from the front entrance of the hotel would break his fall.  His body tore through the fabric and he landed on the sidewalk with a dull thud.      “C’mon, Jokesy, getupgetupgetupGETUP--” Chanting to himself almost like a temporary mantra, giggling the entire time he did as he stumbled to his feet and started to run down the block. Firing off a round or two to part the crowd of people gathering in his way like Moses parting the Red Sea.      “OUTTA MY WAY, FOLKS! OFFICIAL CLOWN BUSINESS!”

     “So many--” he’s clutching his briefcase tightly, thumbs twiddling with one and the other nervously. He walks, sort of hunched over, head sunken into his collar like a turtle with it’s shell. They’re all so beautiful, the line up of girls.      “--choices.” Clearing his throat as he says this last bit aloud. “What would you--” he turned to the Madame, with what could be construed as a smile, “--recommend?”      The meek little man had the sides of his head shaven, with what-- at first-- was slick black hair but had been ruffled and disheveled looking. His eyes were this sort of pale green that seemed to be almost muted, like the rest of him. A white labcoat hung off his limbs like a child wearing a Ghost costume on Halloween. It was odd because it was usually this type of man you'd expect to see at a brothel but there was something... peculiar about him.

     The front door swung open and his lanky silhouette stretched into the apartment thanks to the spilling light from the hallway behind him. He shuts the door behind himself and starts to shrug off his labcoat, feeling the weight of it alleviate itself from his person. The briefcase in his hand gets shifted in possession to the other one so he could then switch his focus to the other sleeve of his coat. Once completely off, he hung it up on the rack mounted in his doorway. His balcony doors were wide open, the night air caressing the hairs on the back of his neck. He walks past it to make his way towards the bathroom, dropping the briefcase just before stepping through the threshold. He reaches down to grab both knobs of the bathroom sink and twist them on, filling up the porcelain bowl with lukewarm water as it soon filled his cupped palms. Splashing the water on his face and hair, he ruffles it a bit before dipping his head low and letting out a sigh.      “You can come out now.”  He announces without lifting his head, both of his hands grabbing at each end of the sink. What seems to be almost a paint-like brown and beige color is seen dripping off white fingers.      “I know you’re there--” turning to stand in the bathroom doorway, he reaches up to his own head and ruffles his            (now green)      hair. “--Madame.” Reaching with his left hand towards the towel rack to grab one, drying his head and face to get rid of any remaining cosmetics.

     “So many--” he’s clutching his briefcase tightly, thumbs twiddling with one and the other nervously. He walks, sort of hunched over, head sunken into his collar like a turtle with it’s shell. They’re all so beautiful, the line up of girls.      “--choices.” Clearing his throat as he says this last bit aloud. “What would you--” he turned to the Madame, with what could be construed as a smile, “--recommend?”      The meek little man had the sides of his head shaven, with what-- at first-- was slick black hair but had been ruffled and disheveled looking. His eyes were this sort of pale green that seemed to be almost muted, like the rest of him. A white labcoat hung off his limbs like a child wearing a Ghost costume on Halloween. It was odd because it was usually this type of man you'd expect to see at a brothel but there was something... peculiar about him.

     A visitor who stool tall and lanky, wearing a slim fitting black suit and who had slicked black hair with the sides of his head, shaven. Pale greens look upon the blanket covered carcass as bony white extremities reach out to peel away the cover so he can gaze at his own dastardly handiwork.      “Hello, Mary.” That timid and meek voice slowly losing those said characteristics and replacing them with something that was a bit more... sinister.

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- Batman: Three Jokers Variant Covers

Joaquin Phoenix as JOKER

You had to spoil everything, didn’t you? Beating up Bane, feeding Scarecrow to Croc, slapping around my Harley, my hobby by the way, and ruining all my lovely Venom plants!

by Brian Bolland