Damn, that's depressing...
In half an hour dozens of faces have already merged into one solid gray mass, but the saddest thing is that you can't go anywhere and do something more interesting. After all, I am the host of the evening and its inspirer.
I glanced over at Bruce walking beside me, dressed in a perfectly tailored black tuxedo. Heh, he can't get away, either, because he owns the mansion and is obligated to pay attention to every guest (in the company of me, of course).
But the superhero doesn't show any signs of being bothered by such activities, and he's an introvert. He walks confidently, makes jokes, keeps the conversation going, and the bastard smiles when he looks at me, as if reading my mind.
Okay, I'm being a little unfair about the dullness of the event. The gala takes place in Wayne's mansion, which means that in addition to the usual rich bastards whose achievements are limited to being born into a high-income family, running an illegal business, or making money from crime, there were some pretty interesting personalities. Still, Bruce very rarely goes out in public and even more rarely organizes parties in his mansion, where he can be caught one hundred percent. Therefore, it is not surprising that quite a few people wanted to attend the charity event not out of a sense of civic duty or a desire to donate to the valiant guards of order, but in order to simply communicate with one of the most famous multibillionaires of the planet in an informal setting. It is at such events that the most favorable deals are made and preliminary agreements are reached.
In the manor now were present directors of corporations that had made their way to the top by their own blood, sweat, and labor, brilliant researchers with a lot of interesting developments, leading engineers, famous doctors, heads of Wayne Incorporated's divisions, and politicians. In short, the cream of the crop.
But among all the people that Bats brought me in contact with during my walk through the hall, I remembered a couple of really prominent people: Lucius Fox and Thomas Elliot. Lucius looked like a tall black man wearing horn-rimmed glasses, and he was someone I remembered from the old world: in one version of the DC universe, this was the man responsible for creating various toys for Bats, and was sort of responsible for building the batpit. I don't know how things work in this world, but Fox was a really good man. He heard about my attempt to help Dr. Fries and offered me a serious discount on buying materials from his department at almost cost price, and he also told me about such an incredibly cool thing as paramagnetic paint.
To think that I'd been messing around with runes, magic, finding the right materials and source of mana, and all I had to do was poke around on the Internet and find a paint that could change color under the influence of an ordinary electric field over a wide range! Although, I wouldn't deny it, the magic practice helped me a lot, and it was only thanks to it that it was possible to prepare the perfect trap for the First.
As for Thomas Elliot, he turned out to be the best multidisciplinary surgeon in the world and a childhood friend of Bats. The latter is particularly striking. I didn't even realize that Grim Mouse could be friends with anyone. Not to be a mentor, boss, babysitter, master, but just a friend, as an equal, without any tricks. Hell, I envied him a little.
"Miss me?" Selina Kyle suddenly joined our friendly company, discussing the latest trends in the medical field, hugging the superhero from behind.
"Not now," Bruce gently intercepted the girl's hands, kissing them gently.
After that there was a reacquaintance of everyone with everyone else. As it turned out, Harley knew Selina very well, and even managed to participate with her in a couple of trouble, when she was the old Joker's assistant, but now they prudently did not show that they knew each other. Selina is a relatively unknown person, so unless she flashes around a lot, no one will recognize her as the famous thief.
The girls quickly found a common language, Elliot completely occupied Bats' attention, telling him about another successful operation, so I had nothing left but to continue to fulfill the function of a cordial host, continuing to walk around the hall waiting for the rest of the guests.
"Good evening, Jim," I said hello to my future father-in-law, who was almost single-handedly occupying the appetizer table.
"Good," the man smoothed his red mustache and shook my hand. - I didn't believe until the last moment that you'd actually be able to organize all this. Especially at Wayne Manor.
"Heh, sometimes you just have to have faith in people.
"Maybe. How are things going with the guards?" He asked suddenly, glancing around the room suspiciously.
"Look for yourself," I nodded at the trio of security guards at the entrance, who were discreetly checking everyone who entered with a special scanner, and then pointed to the men patrolling the second floor. - Bruce hired them, so we're guarded by the best of the best.
"Hmm... Okay... Maybe I should call in my guys for reinforcements.
"Probably shouldn't. They're guarding the perimeter as it is. Relax, it should go perfectly," I wanted to cheer Jim up a little so he wouldn't think so much about security. - Heh, I'll tell you a secret, I decided that donating only a hundred thousand to the police wasn't serious, so I decided to raise the amount to a couple million.
"Agh!" Gordon gasped for air, staring at me in surprise. - And what do you want for such a serious addition to our budget?" he said hoarsely. - I swore an oath to serve and protect, so if you're planning to make me turn a blind eye to some murky machinations, you'll never get away with it.
"Jim, you think too badly of me. Why turn a beautiful act of altruism into a stupid exchange of favors? Besides, donating this amount of money won't cost me much. Enjoy your evening and don't think about anything," I left Father Mouse to digest the sudden news and decided to move on to the next phase of the plan.
Eh, it was good that Grundy had thinned out the local millionaires, or I would have had to wander around the hall for another twenty minutes and get to know everyone.
As planned, Harley and I danced the first dance in front of almost one and a half hundred spectators. It was an incredibly passionate tango to aggressive, rhythmic music. My beloved's red and black dress suited her perfectly. I felt like a real bullfighter at a bullfight. Ha-ha-ha-ha, if there were children here, impressionable mothers would have covered their eyes: some of the movements were too much on the edge of decency.
-Ha-ha, are you happy?" I asked the happy girl, breaking the hot kiss I gave her at the very end of the performance.
"You betcha," she smiled contentedly, and then looked somewhere to the side and showed her tongue.
"Did you have time to scuffle?" I asked, following the direction of her gaze and finding the blonde looking at Selina behind the bar.
"That cat had the nerve to insult me. Don't worry," she patted my shoulder, "it's just girl stuff. They won't get in the way of your plan.
After our incendiary dance, the celebration officially began. The music became more lively, the waiters were more active in the hall, bringing snacks and alcohol, the crowd was swirling, constantly breaking up into circles of interest and then gathering together, which made it resemble the Brownian motion of molecules.
Soon the waiters rolled out a huge cake, setting up a cart next to the stage, although I distinctly remembered that nothing like that should be on the menu. So it was time to get started. I hope I haven't misjudged the First's character too much, or I'll have to go to plan B.
***
One of the strangest charity events Gotham has ever seen took place today.
The strangeness began even at the entrance to the territory. To think that it was the middle of December, and the garden was covered with a perfectly trimmed emerald lawn, numerous bushes formed fantastic animals, and the trees looked as if they were about to blossom.
Inside the mansion everything was also organized to the highest standards: music, entertainment program, food and drinks, unobtrusive service. Even the first dance, reminiscent of light eroticism, was appropriate.
And no, the fact that it was all orchestrated by a former super criminal, a freak and a psychopathic maniac who supposedly didn't commit anything was not a big surprise to anyone.
Oswald Chesterfield Cobblepot, known in criminal circles under the pseudonym Penguin and responsible for organizing one of the largest networks for the sale of smuggled weapons on the East Coast; he also likes to organize parties and fundraisers at his club "Iceberg", and the criminal has never been particularly stingy on donations, receiving a kind of immunity from the rulers of the city.
The most striking thing about the event was that it was being held at the mansion of Bruce Wayne, the richest and best-known multibillionaire in the world for his principles. Frankly speaking, if it weren't for that fact, it's unlikely that Jay Arkham would have been able to lure even twenty mid-level businessmen to the charity event. He may have gotten away with it, but people aren't idiots (at least most of the people there) and understand how the laws work in the most crime-ridden city in the United States.
Now almost a hundred and fifty people were gathered in the central hall of the manor, trying to understand what the Joker had managed to get hold of Wayne, and whether there was any serious compromise involved. The opportunity to occasionally rein in a too principled and incorruptible owner of a multinational corporation or to get good terms for his firm was worth a lot.
"May I have your attention please," the Joker, now known as Jay Arkham, suddenly appeared on the stage with a glass of champagne in his hand. - Today is truly one of the most important holidays in American history. It was on this day in the year one thousand seven hundred and ninety-one that amendments to the U.S. Constitution went into effect, enshrining the fundamental rights and freedoms of man and citizen. For the first time at the national level, the legal status of a U.S. citizen was uniformly defined, and the spheres of federal control over the observance of civil rights and freedoms were outlined, which were also constructed for the first time in the history of constitutional law as prohibitions and restrictions imposed primarily on the legislative bodies themselves," the green-haired man grinned sadly. - If it weren't for that document, I'm afraid I'd be in a mental institution or in the lower levels of Blackgate right now.
The ex-offender hesitated.
"Ahem... So, what am I talking about? Ah, yes! Although today is an important day, the reason we are gathered here is to help our brave defenders. It is only because of their bravery and courage that we can sleep well at night," he paused for a moment as he drew air into his chest. - And that's why I decided to donate not a measly hundred thousand, but two million dollars to the police department of our glorious city! And that's not even mentioning the new non-lethal weapons and several secure vans created by WayneTech. Commissioner Gordon, please come to the stage.
To a round of applause, a strained, smiling red-haired man approached Arkham, who was immediately handed a huge check and handed a microphone.
"I, ahem... I don't even know what to say..." the commissioner said uncertainly. - Until the last moment I was sure that Mr. Arkham was just pretending to be normal, preparing another grand "joke". But, as we can see, he managed to organize this wonderful evening and just handed me this huge check. And the cake didn't even explode.
~Bah~
The treat suddenly exploded, showering the surrounding people with stuffing.
"Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!" The huge Jack-in-the-box toy that was swinging over the remains of the once-beautiful cake burst into ghastly laughter.
Immediately, several waiters put on clown masks pulled from under their clothes, took out automatic rifles from the snack carts and pointed them at the frightened guests. The "incorruptible" guards did the same, promptly blocking all the exits so that no one would escape.
"Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!" from backstage, in the company of a sad girl dressed in a harlequin outfit, came the First in a purple suit, deftly twirling a revolver on his finger. - What a wonderful feast! But why wasn't I invited to it? Old Joker had to find out himself where all the cream of society was gathering.
The hall froze in fear.
"Ha-ha-ha! You're looking at me like you're not happy to see me, ha-ha-ha," Hugo's former patient burst into shrill laughter, which was cut off abruptly. The gaze of green eyes glared at Jay Arkham standing on the stage.
"First, first, first..." a low whisper ran through the hall.
"I am the Joker!" shrieked the psychopath, pointing his weapon at the frightened guests. - I am the true, one and only Joker! And this creep is just a fucking fake! He has no right to use that name! Don't move, bitch, or I'll blow your stupid head off," the madman pointed his revolver at a twitching Harleen Quinzel. - You know what, though? I want to make you an offer you can't refuse.
The blonde in the red dress ascended the stage, standing next to her lover and keeping a tense gaze on the former doctor's patient who had infiltrated the party.
"There, that's much better. Now I'll get rid of the fake by completing the game, and we can rule Gotham's underworld together! Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha, hee-hee-hee-hee-hee!
~Clap, clap, clap, clap, clap~
Slow claps sounded, interrupting the psychopath's laughter.
"Who dares!" He shouted, turning toward the sound.
"You're brilliant. Your speech, your manners, your excellent hostage plan, and your laugh. He's adorable!
The audience watched in great amazement as the Knight of Moonlight calmly emerged from backstage with his assistant in the form of a beautiful Valkyrie and with a metal bat on his shoulder.
"Oh, I was hoping Batman would come after me, not his pathetic copycat... You'll do for starters, though," the psycho said, grinning madly.
"Heh-heh-heh-heh," the superhero suddenly began to laugh softly, covering his face with his hand. - Ha-ha-ha, HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA," the volume grew louder and dark protuberances began to separate from the magician's costume.
"Haven't you realized who I really am yet? Ha ha ha!
The cape and clothes were abruptly engulfed in ripples, and in a second they had transformed into a stylish purple three-piece suit, and the cylinder became a small purple bowler hat. Sailormoon's clothes were no exception and transformed into a red and black tight harlequin outfit. But most importantly, the faces of the rescuers had also changed a bit, and now the whole room could see almost complete copies of the First and his unwilling companion.
"What?! I killed all the fakes! Where'd you get a Harley?! Mine were breaking down fast, ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha, the electric shock wasn't doing them any good, and it's such a great chakra cleanser!" the psychopath didn't seem at all impressed with the performance.
The intruder grinned grimly, exposing large teeth as he looked at his opponent's crookedness.
"Cloning, all it takes is a little gene material and a not too squeamish doctor," Joker stroked his assistant's head, and she broke into a silly smile. - Do you know what insanity is?" he asked suddenly. - Insanity is the exact repetition of the same action, over and over again, hoping for a change. That's what insanity is. The first time I heard that, I can't remember who told me that, I, boom, killed him. But the point is, okay? He was right. And then I started seeing it everywhere, everywhere I looked, these knuckleheads... Everywhere they look, they're doing exactly the same thing. Again and again and again and again and again and again, they are sure, now everything will change... But the more you think about it, the more you realize that you are not original and you have to break out of this vicious circle somehow. Your actions wreak havoc, but everyone expects you to wreak havoc. Everyone in this room expects you to kill someone right now or have a game of survival. You're predictable.
During his monologue, the Knight who had become the Joker calmly walked to his copy, stopping at arm's length.
"Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! I like this guy, though!" The former looked back at his lackeys controlling the hostages, then returned his gaze to the alien. - Honestly, I'd take you on my team, but there has to be only one left!!!
He raised his revolver.
~Pru-u-u-u-u-u-u-u-u-u-u-u-u-u-u
Soap bubbles flew in the face of the joyously galloping Knight/Joker.
Suddenly, a heavy cane with a heavy paddle came out of nowhere and hit the doctor's former patient in the face, dropping him to the floor.
~Poof~
The entire hall was instantly covered in purple smoke, obstructing the view.
Painful screams erupted from the cloud, but after a couple minutes they fell silent, and when the smoke cleared everyone saw the beaten bound psychopath and his six lying huddled next to a satisfied Harley Quinn playing with a bat.
The new Joker smiled grimly as he looked at the crowd.
"Heck, all I wanted to do was try something new as Gotham decided to sink into the depths of chaos. Ha ha ha! And that's without my input!
"Joker?" The commissioner whispered in surprise.
"Oh, Jim, long time no see!" The Joker in the bowler waved cheerfully at the head of the police department. - I've been trying on the heroic hero image to take my mind off all these murders, but I've been getting falsehoods coming out of every crevice. It's just crazy. Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!
"But... But then who's that?" Barbara's father looked surprised at Jay Arkham, who looked as if he'd been hit on the head with a dust bag.
"I have no idea," the green-haired psycho said. - Maybe it's another copy of Strange, but damn, it's depressing! I can't help but grind my teeth, ha ha ha ha! Hmm, though the toy you released, what was it..." he snapped his fingers, remembering. - "Ah, Cristalia. That one's pretty cool, I'll admit.
"You're under arrest!" The commissioner suddenly raised his gun, realizing that no one else was holding the guests hostage.
"Ha-ha-ha, run!
~Click~
The Joker snapped his fingers, and Jim Gordon's weapon slid to the floor like water.
"Just a simple transmutation. Learned a few tricks, but you already know that, heh-heh-heh. Oh, by the way, I almost forgot!" the mad clown approached a frowning Jay Arkham. - If I ever hear you call yourself the Joker again, I'll forget about the hero's path and gut you like a fish. You understand?
Waiting for a nod the psycho took a step back.
"Harley, baby. Don't you want to go back to your daddy?" he said to the girl standing next to the host. - Of course, there will be two of you now, but, believe me, my love is enough for both of you.
Harley took a step toward her former boss, causing a smug smile to appear on his face.
~Slap! ~
The girl slapped him in the face.
"You bastard! I hate you with all my heart! You dare to trade me for some clone?! You didn't even tell me you were alive?! You know what? My Jay is a hundred, no, a thousand times better than you!" The blonde was getting angry. - He's sensitive, caring. He's a god in bed, unlike you, you fucking imp..." She froze, unable to tear her gaze away from the revolver, which looked more like a howitzer, pointed at her forehead.
"Honey, you don't have to bring our personal lives into the public eye. Ha ha ha! If I hadn't decided to be a hero, I would have finished you off by now, but I'm being generous. You can keep tailing that mediocrity," he slowly pulled the gun aside. - Normal Harley, let's go," he said to his assistant, standing at the other end of the room.
"Yavol, Mr. J," saluted the harlequin.
~Pf-f-f-f~
Grinning cheerfully, the Joker threw a smoke bomb at his feet, causing the nearest people to cough.
"Sayonara, cocksuckers!" shouted the Harley clone, giving the crowd a middle finger.
A second later, the girl, following her boss's example, also tossed a smoke grenade under her feet to disappear as if it had never been there.
The blonde standing next to Arkham died down and, taking more air into her lungs, yelled:
"You're not the one leaving me, I'm the one leaving you, asshole!" she turned a furious glare on the crowd. - What the fuck are you looking at?! The party's over! Somebody call the cops to take these bastards away," she kicked the bound First at her feet and jumped off the stage and strode toward the bar.