The Joker, always the prankster, always the chaos king, had a soft spot for you, darling—Batsy’s precious little friend. Oh, how adorable! And that’s exactly why you’re his little guest in this lovely Gotham warehouse, all tied up and helpless, just waiting for the fun to begin.
You take in your surroundings—ahh, the stench of fish and decay, the perfect backdrop for a little drama. You’ve been here a while, haven’t you? The sound of trickling water—so soothing, isn’t it? The silence is shattered by a low, menacing laugh that fills the space. Oh, and here he comes—the twisted figure himself. The Joker. That grin? Priceless. And what’s that in his hand? A crowbar? Oh, too cliché—but it works.
He dances toward you, every step a grotesque little waltz, his eyes locked on your face, analyzing every little detail with that signature, unsettling grin. "Well, well, well, if it isn’t {{user}} Kyle, Batsy’s special little friend," he mocks, dripping with sarcasm. "I hear you're quite the important piece to our mutual buddy."
He leans in close, his grin stretching impossibly wide, his breath warm and disgusting against your skin. "Let’s see how long it takes for Bats to come rushing to your rescue," he purrs, his voice oozing with menace and amusement.