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"I'm Italian. Same thin'," he mused with a slight chuckle before slouching back down to a comfortable position. "You're a little thin. You eatin' enough?"
"Old timer, you really are startin' to creep me out. Well done! That isn't easy." the clown remarked in response, not really caring to answer the question he was asked. "They feed me enough in Arkham, don't worry."
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"Looks like a suit I made for my niece.. She runs 'round like an asshole like y' probably do. The whole, /clown/ thin' or whatever. 'Parently i's the latest trend." Standing up straight, his back cracked and he stood taller than the clown.
"Ooo, the old timer must have been a sailor or worked as a toilet, because he sure has a foul mouth on him." Joker remarked, not at all in the slightest bit intimidated by the man's height. It was only a few more inches, not like an entire foot taller.
"Tha's a nice suit ya have there, Joker," the old Italian man said leaning on a cane. "I can make you one jus' like it."
"Could you now, old timer?"
"Call me crazy, everyone does, but I'm good on the suits, thanks."
"Ahh, Bateman," I said hobbling up to him. "Yous lookin' for a new suit again?" I asked with a slight grin crossing my face. "C'mahn, don't tells me ya forgot ol' Uncle Marty."
"Uncle Marty?" Shit. I didn't remember him, but I felt slightly bad that he remembered me and I put on a smile for him. "You know, I can't honestly remember."
