❯ Policeman – Policeman ( Chapter 1 )

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By: VenusIsKnownForFlyTraps
It was a little known fact that the Joker used to be a policeman.
After he stole a couple of uniforms from some police officers who were going to be in the city’s parade, he had to make sure his Arkham-bound lackeys wouldn’t mess up his plans, so they had, for once, had to rehearse.
Storming into his hideout where his ten followers were, he had thrown the uniforms into their faces, having already put his on. The Joker wasn’t sure, but he really hoped that they hadn’t noticed the way his eyes must have lit up, must have gained that almost ethereal quality that they normally did when he was killing someone slowly for telling them the story of his scars.
So when he was expertly maneuvering the rifle he had taken, going from ready to set to shoot, his hat on his head and his scars seeming normal, only simple battle scars or minor cuts, and the name tag just for half a moment saying “ Jack Napier, Lieutenant,” he felt peaceful. With the rifle in his hands, he was sure his goons could see his seriousness, and that they couldn’t hear his busty laugh, and that they could see his hands shaking slightly as he saw his reflection in the mirror, and that he looked normal and not at all like a clown.
He was sure, quite impossibly sure, that they could see the special gleam in his eyes as they all put the uniforms on as well and tried the maneuvers with the rifles, going from ready to set to shoot, him occasionally giving them brackish advice on where to hold the gun or where to point or where to look. And he was sure, scarily sure, that he would be found out, that his record would be uncovered, that his identity would shine through the invisible make-up that had been expertly wiped away, and as his fake policemen walked out into the sun and joined in the parade in his hostages’ places, he was sure that somewhere, someone, somehow would find out.
What the Joker forgot, however, was his most preached fact, that everyone was dark and evil and rabid like him, that the seemingly innocent, civilized people of the world would eat each other, because walking in the parade, his men at his sides clothed in dark blue, almost black, with the insignia “GPD” on their backs, he felt peaceful, and he was sure as Hell that someone in the crowd just had to notice the special little gleam his eyes held as he walked with his head held high and as his rifle went ready, set, shoot, bang, ready, set, shoot, bang.
And the Joker’s little-known secret about once upon a time having been a policeman was just that, a once upon a time.
Happy Chrismahanukwanzakah, everybody. Here’s your gift. This is a little bit different than how I normally write, but I think this style is easier to write in and it sounds much better to me. Tell me what you guys think. In case you couldn’t tell, I’m a Dark Knight junkie. This is based off of the couple of seconds during the parade where we see the Joker without his war paint and his cronies shoot off their rifles perfectly. I expanded.