This is the most romantic thing I've ever seen.
I have a joke for. What do you call a joker wearing the mask of a joker? I don't know either but it just killed me! Ah ha ha ha ha! I'm exaggerating, diary! I'm not dead yet. Just...incapacitated. I'm resting before the big party. I'm super excited about it because I'll get to meet the great Alfred Pennyworth and maybe even the Penguin! I just hope I survive long enough to get cake! Ah ha ha ha ha!
Oh dear, diary! I think I skipped some parts of my night, didn't I? Perhaps I should start from the beginning! Unless I already told the beginning? That's the problem with using invisible ink! You can't check your work! Ah ha ha ha ha!
It was a dark and stormy night. But isn't it always in Gotham? Metaphorically speaking, I mean! Speaking metaphorically, when will everybody stop shoving "literally" at the beginning of every story they tell simply to add unneeded emphasis? I have a policy to kill any
Where was I? Damn ink. I think I was sitting in my underwear while my mom was being abducted by some cosplayers on the other end of the phone. And then the connection was severed. The line was cut. I lost all feeling. I couldn't stand.
Ah ha ha ha ha ha!
It was The Joker on the other end of the line. Or perhaps someone pretending to be The Joker, hmm? If I wasn't so rattled by his brilliant plan, I might have wondered why The Joker would be disguising his voice when he called to taunt me. Wouldn't he want me to recognize his voice immediately? Of course he would! The ego on that man is insatiable! Wait, did I use that word correctly? Oh, it doesn't matter, right? Nobody else is ever going to read my secret thoughts in my private diary! Ah ha ha ha ha!
What does one do in the face of pure, unbridled, delicious terror like this? Why, one makes a sandwich.
And one worries that perhaps their most valued secrets have been exposed.
Oh where was I? Oh! The voice on the other end of the line? Voice distorter because The Joker was probably busy with his plans. Could he be coming after me himself?
Nope, just a bunch of clowns. Not a clown prince among them.
I beat up his thugs just like he probably expected since when he calls me again, he calls me Batgirl. It's a relief to know that someone knows. I mean someone other than those other Bat-males that think they're better than me simply because they got to live in the Bat-mansion eating Alfred-Waffles and whenever I stayed over and Pennyworth made cinnamon rolls in the morning, they would all eat the gooey center ones and leave the crusty corner ones for me.
I get the information as to his whereabouts over the phone (could it be a trap? Who cares? Knowing something is a trap has never stopped anyone from venturing into one anyway!) and head out to rescue my mother from the clutches of The Joker at The Cherry Hill Skating Rink. Oh the memories of that place! The constant butterflies in my stomach as I waited for a cute boy to ask me to skate with him during a couples skate. A magic place where the young and innocent dream of holding hands and being all alone on the rink with that special person while the high schoolers were out banging each other in their cars and the sides of the buildings and the locker rooms and the snack bar.
I felt uneasy about this. Not like it was a trap. But that there was something wrong. Something misplaced. Something fell. Oops! That's Dave Sim's mantra.
There was something different about this fellow. That hair. So obviously a weave.
It's about this time that I realized who had set me up and sent me face to face with The Joker because this guy in front of me was definitely The Joker. Dumb artist. It was the same guy that had been dating my roommate and gave her a cat with the name of my cat my brother killed. Oops! Did I just let the cat out of the subconscious? Barbara didn't know I was dating Alysia! And now I've ruined this joke as well. Now I really wish this was invisible ink. But I've got you now, you fucking bitch sister! You won't survive to read this entry but it makes me feel good that it's here to document my part in this little drama.
By the way, how'd that little drama end, sis? How did your first confrontation with The Joker since he crippled you go? Did you survive? How did it feel when your whole world dropped out from under you because you thought he knew who you were? Pretty scary, isn't it? Finding out reality isn't as firm as everyone tries so hard to believe. The biggest problem with reality is that it can change in the blink of a butterfly's tears. Ah ha ha ha ha?
Oh shit. Is that Alfred's ear? Not cool, The Joker. Not fucking cool.
Of course The Joker has kidnapped Barbara's mom to use her ring to propose to Batgirl, so that also argues for his knowledge of their identities. My main reason for believing he doesn't know is the end game of all this. What do they do with a crazy, homicidal person that knows their secrets? Another Identity Crisis where they wipe his memory? Or do they just shrug their shoulders and say, "Nobody will believe him!"
Whatever the case, The Death of the Family makes the Joker's possible knowledge far more interesting than fucking Scott Lobdell's back-up story where The Joker takes credit for making Jason Todd the second Robin.
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