A Userguide To Understanding Joker

Question 3: Who Was He Before He Was The Joker?

So I sought out someone like me that I could learn from. That person came in the form of a street girl my age. Her name was Selina Kyle. Yes, THAT Selina Kyle. The girl who would become Catwoman. She taught me how to be a pick pocket and cat burglar. Which as it turns out, required more patience than I had at that age. And my impatience led me to buying my first gun. A .45 revolver that assured I always had the upper hand.

But when you put a gun in the hand of a boy who hates society as much as I do, well it's only a matter of time before they use it. The first person I killed was some rich guy in an ally outside of a whorehouse who didn't want to hand over his wallet. I guess he gave the bulk of his wallets contents to the hooker he was cheating on his wife with, because all I got off him was fifty lousy dollars. Truthfully, that's not a lot to kill for, but I'm sure I've probably killed for less.

Killing people is a lot like having sex or taking drugs. The first time you're a bundle of nerves taken by surprise, and it's over far too quickly, but it leaves you wanting more. And each time it gets easier, because you get better at it. And the better you get at it, the more you find yourself enjoying it. And when you start enjoying it, you seek out reasons to do it.

But you can't go around killing people without someone eventually taking notice. That's usually the cops, but I was too smart for them. In my case, it was the mob. Falcone. Viti. Maroni. Bertanili. Sullivan. I played the role of hired gun to all of the five families. This was what finally got me off the streets for good, because the mob payed more than I could make in a month by stealing. I would have been a fool to not take their money. Right?

However, when you put your foot into the mobs door, you don't ever get it back again. Because once your foot is in, they own it. For life. So, I guess you could say that I was caught by this lifestyle. Trapped into it. But ultimately, the decision to be caught was mine. I knew what I was doing the first time I took mob money to off someone. I was securing my future.

Being married to the mob wasn't without it's perks. It came with the sort of class that I was born of. And soon I found myself rubbing elbows with the wealthy Gotham Royalty. When you work for the mob you had their respect, like you were a part of the club. There was nowhere that you weren't greeted by a smile. You know, because you had power. A power that stems from their fear. Fear because your power is great enough to vanquish whomever you see fit.

I was twenty when Don Falcone invited me to his estate and handed me a folder. Inside was a picture of a man that he wanted me to kill. Just some idiot who had taken mob money and not paid it back as expected. His last name was Crowne. My father. But I wasn't aware of that until Falcone handed me a second folder. In that second folder was everything about my past. Everything about my parents, the wreck, and their decision to abandon me.

Needless to say, I was more than happy to take the job. Because I hated him for abandoning me, and for every misfortune I ever encountered. So I tracked my father down, which most of the legwork had already been done by Falcone. On the outside he looked like a shining pillar of the community. A dogooder trying to win the hearts of the city. Someone who claimed to want to make lives better for the citizens of Gotham.