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Although the Ace Chemical Plant has been shut down for over a decade, it maintains historical significance as the birthplace of one of Gotham City's most infamous criminals.
Why won't you leave me alone--both of you? I hate you! I hate you! Bat-wings, clown-face--pushing me down/cutting me up/can't stay afloat/can't catch my breath! Oh, God, it hurts! Oh, God, I'm drowning!
Oh, Rebecca, I'm so sorry! I didn't want to go away! I didn't want to leave you alone! But I had to do it, don't you see? Had to push the sight of you, the scent of you, the heart and soul of you away! Blot you out, drive you down! Obliterate you! Because--once he came back...I had to come back...too.
If you were going for deformity you're using the wrong tools. If you were going for pain you're in all the wrong places. You just kept working an already broken jaw. Just wear out your wrist that way. No concept of craft.
Oh, I knew you could never have killed Bats. But you could keep him busy while I mended from my last encounter with him. It's so good knowing I could control things, even from my hospital bed. What a shame he's got a new brat though. Still, easy come, easy go!
See, that's the thing, it's always business with us, lately. Business, business, business. So this time, I took care of all that early, so we can relax and have ourselves a nice chat. Face to face... to face (hee-hee).
Sit down, and you'll find out. Fight your destiny... you'll never find a single trace of any of them, ever. You'll grow old wondering what happened to them. What I did to each one... Now SIT YOUR #%^ DOWN!''
Because we have an understanding. I'll bet you've said it to them these past few days, haven't you? "You don't understand him." Sure you have, because the ugly truth of it is, Batsss *sigh* is that you love me more than them.
Tell me Goldenrod. How could you have any idea what kind of bright and sunny concepts I might have percolating inside this beautiful mind of mine? Are you Carnac under there? Kreskin? Uri Geller maybe?
I know you, Batman. When you approach a hostage situation like I put you in tonight -- you probably assume the victim is already dead. Oh, sure, you do everything you can to save them anyway, because that's you. But you don't really dare hope, do you? After tonight, though -- you'll never be able to do that again. Will you?
Kind of funny, us running into each other this way, huh? You'll never believe it, but I couldn't have planned this. Not in a million years. I just happened to be out, enjoying the holiday atmosphere when I saw you with those thugs on your tail. So I thought, "Hey, the kid's in trouble. Why not cut him a break?" I mean, we never do this -- just hang out. We're always trying to, I don't know... is "destroy each other" too melodramatic?
But what frightens you, I wonder? What makes you, gentle reader, soak your pants and run screaming for your momma when the lights go out? I have some thoughts on the subject, to be sure... but why not consult an expert on such things? Why, I just have the man in mind. But be careful... this doctor of psychiatry isn't just a perennial favorite among the inmates at dear old Arkham Asylum... He's also a client!
So, who's the real sicko, America? Me, for carrying out this little prank? The producers and executives at the network, who let it all happen-- or is it you people, who mindlessly watched it all on your television sets?
Relax... I anticipated this. See, the chemical compounds of the puke gas combine with the active ingredients in the metagene whacker... which I'm told is a frothy little gumbo mixing all our D.N.A. signatures like some meta-melting pot. Stir 'em up and they create a third formula. One I know something about. Hee... it's our ace in the hole.
All it takes is one bad day to reduce the sanest man alive to lunacy. That's how far the world is from where I am. Just one bad day. You had a bad day once. Am I right? I know I am. I can tell. You had a bad day and everything changed. Why else would you dress up like a flying rat?
What happened to your sense of humor, Son? You and I - we were quite a team in our day, weren't we? I'd write the material. You'd read your lines. But you had to go and improvise the big finale, didn't you?
Losing your temper yet, Lex? I'll let you in on a little secret. I lost my temper long, long ago, and I've never found it. Maybe it's under one of the sofa cushions! Pain? You can't stop me by hurting me! Don't you know me at all? Pain is my boon companion! My stalwart friend! I am alive with pain every moment of every day, Lex! Ever since that fateful day when I was baptized in a vat of chemical goo, that corrosive stuff has burned through my skin like fire. Pain is my One True Love! I admire your willingness to do violence, Lex. Because you have no problem doing it when you have to. But I'm different, Lex. I do violence because it's fun! You're good at your job, Lex. But me? I LOVE MY JOB!
Parting is such sweet sorrow, dearest. Still, you can't say we didn't show you a good time. Enjoy yourself out there... in the asylum. Just don't forget -- if it ever gets too tough... there's always a place for you here.
Oh, the irony! Me, flying out from the darkness--like a bat. You know what I love about the darkness, Batman? I can see my reflection in it. My face is the face of the deep. And it goes on forever. What do you see? Do you see your reflection? Is that why you sit in the darkness? Answer me! When you stare at the darkness, does it stare back at you?
Ahh, it's about time. And the earth was without form, and void--and darkness was upon the face of the deep. And I said, Let there be light! I saaaaid...LET THERE BE LIGHT! Well. This is taking longer than expected. Perhaps the Bat is slowing down in his old age--