"Joe." Came the response. We cursed and yanked the door open violently. The Joker stood framed in the doorway. His face was not its usual picture of inanity and mirth however - his blood red lips were turned down at the corners, and his yellow vein filled eyes were wide and puppy dog like. As close to puppy dog eyes as a psychotic clown with a list of fatalities that could make Genghis Khan blush can be anyway.

"Why diddya answer the door Harv? Haven’t either of you seen a knock - knock joke before? It’s a fairly simple concept really - which is helpful seeing as your both fairly simple too."

"We know what a knock - knock joke is Jack," we said dryly. He grimaced slightly at the mention of his name - we had learnt that he hated being called that from Selina - always useful to know. "You knock on the door, we ask who it is, you reply Joe, we say Joe who, you say Joe Kerr and kick the door so hard that it goes flying open, normally smacking us in the nose as it does so!"

He grinned at us as only he can.

"So you've heard it then?" he said in mock surprise. He laughed, slapping us on the shoulder, before waltzing past us into our apartment.

"No please, do come in." we remarked to ourselves as we followed him in. He leaped onto our arm chair, putting his feet up on the coffee table, his purple trousers riding up to reveal white ankle and Tellytubby socks.

"Thanks Harv. Awfully kind of you old chap. Tally ho, hockey sticks and all that."

"What do you want Joker?" we said folding our arms.

Like a jack in the box, he jumped up from the chair, and reached out a hand to shake ours, grinning broadly. Our arms remained folded, and our eyes narrowed at the white hand. Giggling apologetically, he removed the small button like joy buzzer from his hand.

"What’s with the questions? Eddie, is that you in there beneath that hideous excuse for a face? Talk about a face only a mother could love. but even she might struggle with that one! HAHAHAHA!"

"So you came round here to insult us then did you Jack? Couldn’t you do that another time? We're kind of busy at the moment."

We regretted it the instant we said it. His eyes widened, and an evil grin passed across his face.

"What are you up to Harv? And where do I sign up?"

"Oh it’s nothing. You'd hate it." We said, turning away from him to conceal the theatre ticket we held in our hand. He grabbed us by the shoulders and hopped up and down, peering over our shoulder, giggling inanely. The whole effect was like Tigger on Prozac.

"Cat Tales huh." he said thoughtfully. We cursed ourselves for not concealing the ticket better. If Jack were to show up at the performance, we hated to imagine what Selina would do to us. We knew it would involve her claws and us saying goodbye to some part of our anatomy.

"Huh? What - this? Oh no, Jervis Tetch asked us to buy this for him. We owed him a couple of favours you see. No, tonight we're going downtown to. 'check out' that new exhibit at Gotham museum. Some archaeologist has discovered an Egyptian statue that seems to depict twin Gods. It has thrown the accepted knowledge of Egyptian society into doubt - and more importantly we have a space on our mantelpiece that needs filling."

We turned around to look at The Joker. He was playing with one of those table tennis bats that has the ball attached to it with elastic. His tongue was sticking out of one corner of his mouth, and his brow was furrowed, seemingly in great concentration as he furiously bounced the ball.

We sighed. He turned to us, his bat forgotten, and grinned sheepishly.

"I agree Harv, you should get a new hair cut. Your current one does nothing for your complexion." he said, examining our scarred face with a smirk.

"You haven’t listened to a word we've said have you?!"

"What was your first clue? HAHAHAHAHAHA!"

*****************************************************************

We argued for a good five minutes before we gave in and agreed to let him go with us. It’s difficult arguing with someone who is insane - there comes a point when you realise that their arguments aren’t making sense, you both know it, and only one of you cares. In the end, he won by default. In other words, we were about to burst a vein in frustration.

We trudged in the direction of The Hijinx Theatre together, looking just like the proverbial odd couple. He was dressed in his usual purple suit, bright blue tie, yellow shirt. His skin was bone white, his hair emerald green, his lips blood red. We on the other hand were dressed in a long dark brown trench coat with a large collar that we held up, jealously trying to protect our identity from prying eyes. We also wore a wide brimmed brown leather hat.

We looked at each other as we walked. We were wryly thinking that all of our years at law school had resulted in this, whatever this was, when Jack spoke, a note of mischief in his voice.

"Kinda strange aren’t we Harv? You and I. Coco the Clown meets Indiana Jones. Imagine the buddy movie if those two got together! Baggsy Gene Wilder playing me. But then again, you're a walking Buddy movie, aren’t ya Harv?"

We snarled.

"Shut up Jack. Why the hell are you coming with us anyway? You hate the theatre. You don’t even like Selina that much."

"True. I do love to laugh though. And if something tickles me." he collapsed into fits of giggles. We lifted him up back off the floor and slapped him. "Thanks Harv. I needed that. In response to your question, I don’t care about the show itself. I’m here for you buddy. When the proverbial hits the fan, we're the most qualified Umbrella you know. Don’t even try and deny it. Chaos is our middle name."

"Charlie Chaos Chaplin? Nice." "Pretty funny Harv. For an amateur. So why are you going tonight then?"

We smiled malevolently.

" 'The play’s the thing wherein I’ll catch the conscience of the King.' Or in this case, the Cat. William Shakespeare’s Hamlet, Act 2 Scene 2, with an additional satirical note by Harvey Dent."

"Hamlet?" said the Joker, looking puzzled. "Harv, have you been talking to your cigars again? Maybe you should check yourself into the funny farm. Again."

We sighed exasperated. As we did so a thought struck us.

"Hey - aren’t you at all worried about being recognised? Look at us - incognito. You are a wanted criminal you know!"

"Heh." He said, grinning at us fiendishly. "Being recognised? I’m not worried about it Harv. Not in the least. I’m armed with a trusty tube of Pringles and I’m not afraid to use it."

"Pringles?!"

"Yeah. I got some Pop Tarts too, but I only intend to use them when I’m really desperate."

"What?" we said, confused. OK, so he’s clinically insane, but even for him that was a strange thing to say. The place we were going would surely be crawling with cops.

"You'll see." He said, still grinning. "Surprises are cool Harv! You must have been terrible at Christmas. Always wanting to open your presents before the allotted time. Happy memories eh?" he said, noting the clouded expression in our eye.

We were thinking back to the last Christmas we had spent at home before we left for Law School. Our Father had got drunk again, and tried to beat us. For the first time, we had stood up to him. We had hit him back. He had fallen, almost in shock, backwards, knocking over our tree and landing with a crunch on the presents that lay under it. We stared at each other for a good few seconds as the realisation dawned. He was a small, weak old man. He had never been a father to me. Not since Mother died. We had run from the house and not seen him again until after Law School.

We realised that Jack was looking at us oddly, so we grinned feebly at him.

"Hey Jack," we said. "Two guys walk into a bar."

"Ouch." He said.