Part 2 - Dawn
Chapter Nine: Forward
From the audio logs of Dr. Hugo Strenj
Strenj: This is Doctor Hugo Strenj of Arkham Asylum. Today, I would like to start a new log series, specifically dedicated to Jonathan Crane - more for my private personal studies than for his continuing therapy sessions - which, of course, will continue as planned.
Hello, Jonathan. I want you to know that these sessions are for my own benefit and curiosity. Nothing you say here will be heard by anyone else, and therefore, cannot be held against you in any criminal proceedings.
Crane: And I’m just supposed to believe that, after you DRUGGED me into confessing before?
Strenj: Yes, Jonathan. And here it is: I drugged you. I freely admit it. And what’s more, I gave you a much higher dosage than is generally safe, for my own selfish reasons. Reasons that I would like to divulge to you, eventually, if you are curious.
Crane: … You do surprise me, Strange. That is quite the admission. I do believe you’ve spoken to the psychologist in me, just now. And for the first time, might I add.
Strenj: I thought so. It is true, I have expected you to be truthful with me when I have not been reciprocatory in my honesty. I shall reveal my intentions to you, doctor, albeit in my own good time. I have to ensure that we are building trust together and that this relationship no longer falls to one side or the other.
And again, it’s Strenj.
Crane: Fine, I’ll bite. So, you drugged me. To what end?
Strenj: In hopes that you would reveal your deepest, darkest secrets. And you did, but the results were… not as I’d hoped. I intended for us to bond together, and to form a mutual fascination for your illness, so that we could better understand the roots of it. All in the name of science, yes?
Crane: Why do I still feel like you’re holding something back?
Strenj: Mm. Quite right, I must admit. You see, doctor, I really was excited to hear that you would be entering into Arkham Asylum so I could study you. But then… there was another I became wholly taken with.
Crane: The Batman…
Strenj: Ohoho! You are quite observant. Right you are! And so you see, I thought that once we had established a deeper trust, I could then extract from you some of his secrets. Anything I could use to lead to his capture. He is, as I’m sure you are in full agreement, the ultimate specimen.
Crane: I see. While I do not share your particular enthusiasm for him, I do understand it. The world is enamored with serial killers because they go against what they’re brainwashed into believing is the true nature of humanity. So much so that they become bored with the everyday heroes who risk their lives for the sake of good. Police, firefighters, doctors…
Strenj: Indeed, but it is because a serial killer represents a certain part of our humanity in the extreme!
Crane: Exactly. And the Batman is a manifestation of that same thing… except in the opposite extreme.
Strenj: For good, rather than for evil, as it were.
Crane: Come, doctor. Do not tell me you believe in such fairytales as good and evil. It’s all just different factions within our human mind, fighting with one another for supreme control. The conscience is irrational, and therefore, morals are unjustified.
Strenj: Friedrich Nietzsche!
Crane: Of course you’d know it, you dirty disgusting German.
Strenj: Well, I’m well studied on the fellow. However, I can’t subscribe to his train of thought. He was, after all, full of contradictions. Are you familiar with the quote: What is evil? Whatever springs from weakness?
Crane: You Germans are all out of your goddamn minds, if you ask me. And… wait… was that a slight against me, Doctor?
Strenj: Heavens, no! I wouldn’t dream of it! On that note, however, I am afraid our time is over for today. I can’t keep you drastically longer than usual, lest the guards begin to suspect something has gone amiss. Unless, that is, you have something to offer up about the Batman?
Crane: All in good time.
Strenj: You are a sly one, ohoho. Okay, until next we meet.
From the confessions of Bruce Wayne
After my encounter with the Joker, I was forced once again to pay a visit to Doctor Leslie Thompkins to look after my acid burn. She assured me it would heal, but informed me that I must tend to with with a topical ointment over the coming days and keep it wrapped thoroughly. During the course of my visit, she refrained from asking questions. Just as well, I did not wish to further embroil her in my nightly business, and indeed, I already felt quite guilty having involved her for yet a second time in my devious affairs.
The next few months went by with only a few minor instances of note. However, the seeds of change were ever growing to ripe fruition in Gotham City, and I must digress momentarily to touch upon a few points of interest.
The first matter I must make mention of is in the realm of politics. You might have noticed in my earlier passages, I had passively referred to the deputy mayor simply by title and not by his name. The truth is, I do not remember his name, as it was of little consequence, given that he would no longer play any part in Gotham’s political future. As for the mayoral race of 1940, a man by the name of Hamilton Hill was elected. And while Wilson Klass was not a man I regarded in a positive light, his untimely passing would soon show that there were far worse candidates waiting in the hedges to take his place. Hill was amongst such filthy scoundrels, and his ties with the local crime organizations ran far deeper than anything we had ever suspected of Klass.
On a brighter note, however, was that Harvey Dent was (as I had expected) elected to District Attorney. His part in the capture of the Joker - after being kidnapped and tortured - was the tipping point for many voters, and the legend of this deed escalated and spread wide throughout the city. As well, Harvey had apparently undergone a sort of transformation of character after his nearly deadly encounter with the psychotic madman. By all accounts, he became far less arrogant in his disposition, and indeed, believed every day to be a humble blessing. His dedication to his crusade remained wholly intact, despite this sudden temperamental shift, and he was more determined than ever to see it through and to rid Gotham of its most corrupt gangsters.
I attended his election win celebration in hopes of seeing it for myself. It was held at the Courthouse in the later days of the month of May, and the place was so crowded that I was narrowly able to make my way towards the fellow.
“Harvey, I offer my utmost congratulations to you. Good show, my friend!”
“Wayne! Glad you could make it!” Dent beamed a wide smile at me, as the flock bounced him this way and that. He seemed to be trying to move in the direction of the small stage. “Thank you so much for all your contributions!”
“Of course!” my words died away in the chamber of echoing voices. Amidst a shoving of bodies, I was pushed back out of the way and left to meander in a sea of merrymen.
“Thank you, thank you all,” he announced as he climbed the podium. “To my opponent, John Biddam, I just want to say…”
Better luck next time, I predicted, as was Harvey’s usual conceited sort of way.
“I thank you for pushing me to be my very best, and for helping me to realize that we’re all fighting the same good fight out there.”
I nearly dropped my glass of champagne. What, no the better man won? Was this really the same Harvey Dent I’d come to know over the past year? It was at that moment that I’d come to appreciate the truth of it, that Gotham’s Knight in Shining Armor had indeed turned a better, and somewhat more humble leaf, after all.
“To everyone who has contributed to this campaign, whether it be financially, propagationally, or otherwise, I cannot thank you enough for your support. I promise to do everything I promised to over the course of this campaign… but it won’t end there. My eyes have been opened, and I now understand that progress is a never ending endeavor. This is only the beginning, and we’ve taken a great step forward in committing to positive change.”
It was not the most original of speeches, but he had had a few celebratory drinks, and the news of his victory was still fresh, so it felt inspiring nonetheless to hear him doubling down.
“In fact, I’ve come to understand quite a few things about Gotham… and about life itself. We’re here to make a difference, so that our children and our childrens’ children can lead a better life. But why do we do this? It’s because life is precious.” A few hear-hears obligatorily echoed amongst the crowd at this. “When I came face to face with the Joker, I finally came to realize the kind of classes of criminals we are now facing. How they fester deep in the soul of our city. There were moments when I felt it deep in my being, my life was over. I knew he intended to kill me, just as he had the former Mayor and the Commissioner of the police force. And it made me pause and reflect on the journey we’ve taken. Why? What is it all for? I’ll tell you… For life. For this one, limited, precious life we are all given. For, despite how grim things have become in this once prosperous town, there are still moments of beauty to be had with our loved ones.”
I nodded absentmindedly at that, for I too had come to realize this during the span of my own budding crusade for Gotham’s wellbeing.
“My friends, I have been neglecting those moments. I’ve let my campaign blind me to the things that truly matter. The very reason I should be doing this in the first place… I’ve taken for granted all those things that really matter. Those PEOPLE who matter most.”
He paused.
“Vicky,” he held out his hand to the crowd below. “Victoria Vale, I’ve been so utterly lost in the pursuit of these goals that I’ve overlooked your loyalty, support, and your love. I failed entirely to appreciate the strength you’ve lent to me every day during the run-up to this election, and for that I can never truly express how sorry I am.” He reached out more prominently, and a slender hand arose from the mass of people to meet with his own, and he gently helped the girl up onto the stage. She appeared out of sorts, and somewhat taken aback by this sudden confession. “But I want to make it up to you, starting now. I do so solemnly promise to spend the rest of my life making up for it, and doing my utmost to make you as happy as you have made me.”
“Harvey,” Vicky smiled, bashful as can be.
He bent down on one knee and pulled out a small trinket from his coat pocket, “Vicky, will you marry me?”
A cold, numbing air spread up my Adam's apple as a result of this scene. Even though I had given up on the idea of romance with Miss Vale only a month prior, I must confide that it pained me to see regardless.
“Harvey, this is so… I mean, I hadn’t any…” she looked out into the crowd, flushed with hesitation. Then, “Yes… yes, I will.”
The flocks cheered as Harvey gathered the girl in his arms for a rather over-theatrical embrace, and then he raised his glass high in the air and bid everyone a good night. I stood in place for a time, stunned, and somewhat confused over the ordeal. Had they been further along in their romantic endeavors than she’d let on, or was this development really as impulsive and spontaneous as she’d made it seem? I suppose it did not matter. All I could do was to try my very best to be supportive and happy for them.
And I knew it was the right thing. When I’d met Vicky, she had already been a vocal and adamant supporter for the chap and all that he aimed to achieve. My adoration for her came too late to the party, as it were, and so my last-minute interference would never have been welcome on anyone’s account. Further still, the woman was not in favor of my vigilantism, and so her rejection of me, whether she was aware of it or not, had always been quite apparent to me.
“Bruce…! I didn’t know you were here,” Vicky’s voice awakened me from my daze.
“Oh, I wouldn’t have missed it for the world! And what an exquisite surprise to be ending the evening off with a proposal of matrimony!” I felt a complete nitwit the moment the words passed my lips.
“Heh… surprise about says it all. Are you staying a while?”
My heart panged to see her up close, and I knew my only answer could be no. “Afraid not… money never sleeps, and all that jazz…”
Yes. That was my honest-to-heavens poor excuse. Billionaire things, my dear. You wouldn’t understand. Rubbish.
“That’s too bad. Perhaps we can have a drink sometime soon?”
The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
“That sounds wonderful, I would so love to give a formal toast to the newly engaged couple,” I forced a smile and bid her a goodnight, taking my leave. I never did offer my congratulations, I was in such a haste to depart and to sort out my own insecurities that it hadn’t even crossed my mind.
Rather than to face those emotions head-on, however, instead I went back to my training. And when my strength failed me, I went back to plotting my nightly rounds of the town. And when my mind failed me, I lay upon my bed for the rest of a sleepless night, doing my utmost to stray away from the emotions that threatened to overtake me.
From the audio logs of Dr. Hugo Strenj
Strenj: This is Doctor Hugo Strenj of Arkham Asylum, audiolog number forty-five. May the twentieth, nineteen forty.
Today, we are once again here with Mr. Gold. How are you, Cyrus?
Cyrus: … Born… born…
Strenj: On a Monday.
Cyrus: On… a Monday…
Strenj: Do you know the next line?
Cyrus: Born on a Monday.
Strenj: It’s ‘Christened on Tuesday.”
Cyrus: Ehhh….
Strenj: For heavens’ sakes. Solomon Grundy, Born on a Monday, Christened on Tuesday, Married on Wednesday, Took ill on Thursday, Grew worse on Friday, Died on Saturday, Buried on Sunday. That was the end - of Solomon Grundy.
Cyrus: Died… born.
Strenj: Hahhh… You’ll get there, someday.
Cyrus: Monday.
Strenj: If only, Mr. Gold, if only. Alright, I’ve had enough. Signing off.
From the more recently discovered audio logs of Dr. Hugo Strenj
Strenj: Doctor Crane! So good to see you. Erm… Let me just… okay, yes, the coast seems clear. We can continue with one of our more intimate sessions today.
Crane: Woopie.
Strenj: Come now, don’t be like that. We had such a wonderful exchange the last time!
Crane: That was over a month ago. Time doesn’t work the same way when you’re trapped in a cage!
Strenj: But you do remember what we talked about, yes?
Crane: The Batman.
Strenj!: Precisely!
Crane: What was it you wanted to know?
Strenj: Anything and everything! What was he like? What was your interaction with him?
Crane: I’m afraid you’ll be quite disappointed. We barely spoke at all, in fact. If he said anything at all, I simply can’t even recall.
Strenj: Surely you must remember something, Jonathan. I’m given to believe he’s quite the imposing figure. Were you scared, perhaps?
Crane: I am a master of fear, don’t be ridiculous.
Strenj: So all the stories… about how he may in fact be superhuman, impervious to bullets, the wings and fur that may or may not be a part of his -
Crane: All lies meant to sell papers. He’s heavily armored from head to toe. And he wears a cape, like a magician would. It’s actually rather silly when up close enough.
Strenj: Marvelous… but armor that could deflect bullets would require something… something far more advanced than what is currently being used by law enforcement and the like.
Crane: Bullet vests have been around here and there, I am not an expert on the effectiveness of what is currently available. He is a big fellow, and the layers of armor made him appear bulkier, and so I suppose there are some that would find him imposing as a result.
Strenj: So, just a man after all, indeed. Well, I cannot say I am surprised. Perhaps a little disappointed…
Crane: How so?
Strenj: Oh, pay no attention to my meanderings. We all dabble in wanting for something greater than ourselves from time to time. Whether that be a belief in magic, or perhaps something slightly less extraordinary, it rouses the soul to think upon, that’s all.
Crane: Heh, man of science indeed.
Strenj: Yes, well… as I said. Nothing unexpected. I… was there anything else you can think of? What did he sound like?
Crane: Sort of gruff. He was always yelling at me, like he wanted to sound as a monster would.
Strenj: Perhaps to disguise his voice?
Crane: Perhaps. I do believe he wanted his enemies to have the perception that he was a sort of demon. He and I do seem to have at least something in common. We both aim to instill fear in others as a matter of controlling any given social situation with them. I knew it right from the start. No, he never scared me. Not even a smidgeon.
Strenj: Yes, yes, you’re very brave. Hm… I shall need to chew on this information for a time. What say we continue with our regular session in the meantime?
Crane: It is no great matter to me what you wish to discuss. Though you may want to use more discretion in your line of questioning, doctor. I do believe I’m starting to get an idea of why you’re so interested in this man, and it isn’t entirely for his mind.
Strenj: I don’t know what you’re talking about, I am merely interested in all facets of this specimen’s being. They all give clues to the man beneath the cowl, and may eventually light the path to discovering his past.
Anyway, where were we? Ah yes, this is Doctor Hugo Strenj of Arkham Asylum, audiolog number sixty-seven. May the twentieth, nineteen forty.
From the confessions of Bruce Wayne
June was rather a hotter month than what was usual. I had taken to the occasional night out to prowl the streets for do-no-gooders, in hopes of finding more red hoods or acquiring evidence against the loan shark in relation to the case. Likewise, I kept an ear to the ground for anything more about the mafia ties to Jonathan Crane’s kidnappings. There were a few instances when I’d followed promising trails, but in the end, I was not left with anything solid enough to take to the GCPD. Mostly, I was able to stop a few robberies from being carried out while on my excursions. Unfortunately, the papers caught wind of the Batman’s exploits, and sightings became a regular point of interest in the dailies, much to Alfred’s malcontent.
I cannot remember precisely when the meeting occurred, but some time between the end of May and early June I was able to take my formal tour of Arkham Asylum with Doctor Hugo Strenj. It was determined by the board that Mr. Jeremiah Amadeus was no longer fit to be in the role of Director of Operations, and in the interim, the lead psychologist would have to fill in for a time until we could make a more formal decision.
“Right this way, and we will meet with a few of our more interesting subjects,” Strenj beckoned me down a stairwell and into a dim hallway. It appeared rather dingy, and an acrid stench wafted in the atmosphere. I turned my nose up at it, but the good doctor did not seem to take notice. We strolled down the pathway, and on either side of us were tiny cell blocks housing the miserable inhabitants of the institution.
“You hold them in cells? Hugo, the entire idea behind this asylum was to make life more comfortable for these unfortunate souls. Here you have them stationed behind bars in the same way they were at Blackgate Prison!”
“A temporary measure, surely,” Strenj assured me. “While the expansions are being constructed, I would assume. Herr Amadeus never did confirm his plans with me, you see. He was… distracted, as you are aware.”
“I must be transparent with you,” I warned, “I find it very easy to understand why this place has not been met with overwhelming excitement. It is no wonder we have performed poorly in the safety standardization inspections.”
“I wholeheartedly agree, and it is my sworn duty to amend this travesty. Except… well, you see… space has been an issue. We are already past capacity, and the expansion efforts are moving much slower than initially anticipated. We are in a rather extrenuous bind.”
I sighed, “I see. Let me see what I can do to try and expedite these matters.”
“Wonderful,” he clapped his hands together. “Now, let us meet some of my friends.”
I had no notepad or writing materials at my disposal, so I had to pay great attention to the names of these inmates and the details about their crimes. The issues plaguing these men were quite diverse in nature, and indeed, I had never quite fully understood just how dangerous many of these patients were to society. In my time away from Gotham, I had not been made aware of some of the more disturbing crimes committed during that period. The serial killings of Julian Day, the mass murder-sprees of Victor Zsasz, and many more had almost completely eluded my attention until now.
When I had come home after my visit to the institution, I did my best to regurgitate all I had learned into a set of thorough notes, which I would compile into a criminal database. By studying these men and their crimes, I hoped to further my knowledge in understanding the mentally unwell and how their limited capacities may manifest themselves in certain dastardly activities. A few trips to the library to uncover old newspaper articles was my first step in expanding upon these initial notations, but I had hoped as well to obtain official police reports from Gordon at some point in order to further enhance my findings.
As for the remainder of the visit with Strenj itself, I cannot remember much, as my mind was solely preoccupied with the inmates. The one encounter that I remember all too well, however, was with Jonathan Crane. The man I had hoped to never come face to face with ever again.
“And this here is our latest, and perhaps most prominent houseguest,” Dr. Strenj announced proudly. He stopped in front of a barred cell block and waved his hand extravagantly, beckoning me forward. I knew it was Crane before I even laid my eyes upon him.
“The Streetnapper fellow?” I played dumb.
“Phueh,” Crane had been sitting upon the corner of his bed, hunched over crudely with his elbows balancing on his knees. At the sight of us he turned aside and laid sidelong across the bed with his back turned to us.
“Oh, do not be like that, Jonathan. We have an eminent guest with us today. It is our benefactor, Mister Bruce Wayne,” Strenj introduced me.
“Wayne…?” Crane turned his head to look over his shoulder at me. “The billionaire boy…” he pushed himself back upright and faced us once again, curiosity washing over his face. He knew who I was. He knew what he’d taken from me.
“I’d prefer to move along,” I said in a low voice to Hugo.
“Oh, he’s quite secure, I assure you,” Strenj tried to comfort me. “Jonathan understands the depth of his crimes and is committed to turning a new leaf.”
“It’s true,” Crane cut in. “I remember you…”
“Please, Doctor,” I pleaded. “This man makes me uncomfortable, and I would prefer we not linger about.”
“Ah, I see…” Strenj stuttered. “I apologize, Mr. Wayne. I sometimes forget how difficult it can be to be faced with those who have committed such horrible crimes. Let us go now. Sorry to have disturbed you, Jonathan.”
“But I haven’t yet apologized,” Crane whined in utter mockery of me.
“The people of Gotham shan’t forgive or forget any of your past transgressions,” I said bitterly as Strenj and I walked briskly away.
“I knowwwww youuuuuu!” his voice echoed down the hallway toward us.
“I am so very sorry,” Hugo apologized once more. “He’s usually quite docile. Something about your infamy must have moved him to act out in such an odd manner.”
“Quite alright, I am used to it.”
I had known I might have to come within close proximity to the man, and had it in mind that I’d somehow be able to avert away from his cell before we’d crossed its path. And yet, with my mind so set on recording all the details of the other inmates, the incident had snuck up on me. It was just dumb luck that Strenj hadn’t seemed to realize our connection. Most longtime citizens of the city knew very well what had happened to my parents, but Strenj was new to this place, and apparently had not yet heard of how they met their end. Nor what had happened to me on that dreadful night.
From the more recently discovered audio logs of Dr. Hugo Strenj
Strenj: Honestly, Jonathan. I don’t even know what to say to you right now. Had it not been for Mr. Wayne’s kindness and financial support, neither you nor I would be here. You would be in Blackgate, likely beaten beyond recognition, or, God forbid, killed, for your crimes. And I… well, I would be somewhere else. No doubt somewhere far less interesting.
Crane: Hahaha! Oh, Doctor… if you only knew.
Strenj: Oh, stop it! Out with it already. If you have something you wish to say then simply do so. I am growing tired with your childish fits and mood swings.
Crane: Are you, now? Hmph. Well then, if you’re going to be that way, then I don’t think I want to tell you.
Strenj: Now YOU LISTEN TO ME! I have had enough of your petty schoolboy behavior! You are NOT in control here, Jonathan. You are imprisoned, and I am your caretaker. Master and dog. Leader and follower. Commander and soldier. And if you continue to act in such an undignified and petulant manner, I have ways of making you pay for it! Do we understand each other?!
Crane: You… you’ve made a grave error, Strange.
Strenj: It’s STRENJ! For the last bloody time, you sniveling, cowardly, lying, SELFISH, EGOMANIACAL AND INSECURE LITTLE BOY!
Crane: You… you… I…
Strenj: WHAT, Jonathan?! Not so tough now that you see the situation for what it really is, are you? I have absolutely had it with your vindictive, narrow-minded delusions! The way you acted today… that’s exactly how they’re going to shut us down! But you don’t care, do you? No, because you are too STUPID and self-centered to understand the big picture here. Well, here it is, Crane! If Arkham closes, you will be fed to the beasts. And let me tell you, yours will not be a slow death. I am sure with the many people you’ve hurt, there is at least someone in Blackgate just waiting for a chance to get at you. And you know what? You DESERVE it! So DO NOT take for granted the patience I have exercised with you thus far. And NEVER speak back to me in such a manner EVER AGAIN, or so help me, I will do everything in my power to ensure you’re on the first ride headed back to that pit of hell they call a jail. Am I clear!?!
Crane: (Whimpering sounds)
Strenj: ANSWER ME!!!
Crane: Yes… yes…
Strenj: For your own sake, Jonathan, I certainly hope so. GUARDS!
From the confessions of Bruce Wayne
It was early July when the trial for the Joker had been carried out in full. The court system moved at a reasonable pace in those days, at least compared to now. In the end, it was decided that, like Crane himself, the Joker was deemed criminally insane, and he would live out his days at Arkham Asylum.
I for one had been experiencing mixed feelings over the ordeal. On the one hand, it was certainly true that there was something rather inhuman about the man, and perhaps Arkham truly was the correct place for one such as he to be dealt with. On the other, he and Crane deserved far worse than what that facility had to offer them. Even despite having bore witness to the poor conditions of the institution, it was far better than either of them should have been given. And I, having been the primary force that brought Arkham into the world, was in large part responsible for how it all turned out for the two.
And in the meantime, here I was, still cleaning up the messes they left for me to dig up around the city.
From the audio logs of Dr. Hugo Strenj
Strenj: This is Doctor Hugo Strenj of Arkham Asylum, audiolog number sixty-eight. July the seventh, nineteen forty.
I am so very excited today, as I bring yet another new addition to our roster of inmates. He has no name, at least from a legal standpoint, but has been referred to in virtually every instance as The Joker. Is that, in fact, the name by which you wish to proceed with?
Joker: For you, I’d prefer if you’d call me Mumsy. Or perhaps Daddy is more up your alley?
Strenj: Uh… Joker will do just fine, I think.
Joker: Not a team player, that’s fine. I had you pegged as more of a solitary, lonesome, friendless, companionless, unwanted and unloved, sad and isolated -
Strenj: I grasp your meaning.
Joker: Why is there no one who believes me when I’m being serious?
Strenj: You, my friend, are a true marvel in the realm of psychological criminology. I thought I had hit the jackpot when Crane came here, but you see, he turned out to be rather a disappointment. But you… you are something extraordinarily unique. I daresay, you might be the most interesting specimen in the whole of the field of psychopathy!
Joker: I see you’ve read my autobiography. I’d appreciate it if you'd keep that kind of outright plagiarism to a minimum, however. Eheheheh.
Strenj: Right… er… now, I wondered if we might be able to speak of your childhood.
Joker: And there’s the trifecta! Lonesome, yearning for a father figure, and has a kink for the young ones. Ahahahahah! Just my luck!
Strenj: Yes, yes, what’s a jokester without a child predator joke? But I am serious, I want to know about your home life. What were your parents like?
Joker: Well, they were a lot like you, actually.
Strenj: How so?
Joker: They too had a thing for the young ones, if ya know what I mean Eeeeheeeheeeheeeheee!
Strenj: Right… I see we won’t be getting anywhere in today’s session. It is, after all, your first day. We must give you time to settle in…
Joker: Care for a cuddle then? AAAAAHAHAHAHAHA!
Strenj: … This is -
Joker: OOOOHOOHOOHOOHOO!
Strenj: THIS-IS-DOCTOR-STRENJ-SIGNING-OFF!