You thought you could change him, you really did. He told you things he’d never told anyone, or so he said. You believed him, that is until Batman told you the truth. At first you didn’t want to believe it, but that seed of doubt was planted. You were the Joker’s toy, his plaything, to dispose of when he got bored. He didn’t like when his toy’s started thinking.

So here you are, tied to a chair. You’d tried to leave, he didn’t like that. “Now, doll, what to do. What to do with you.”