[color=#FFFFFF][font=Trebuchet Ms]The Man of Many Jokes wakes up with his head all fuzzy, thoughts clouded by the sharp pain in the back of his head. He was in a darkened room, sitting on a chair, next to a small table and another chair on opposite side, with only a single dim light above his head. He had no shoe on his left foot.
- My dreams are not this boring - he says to himself. - I'm not dreaming, obviously. So where the hell am I?
Suddenly, a sharp pain came pulsing in his left foot. It grew stronger and stronger. He looks down. His foot was in bloody bandages. Surprised expression on his face quickly covers his carved-up mouth. While slowly taking off bandages, pain in his foot grew almost unbearable. Finally, with the bandages off, he glances at his poor foot only to see...
...That his pinky toe was cut off.
- Aaaah!!! Ban me five times and spank me like a seventh grade psychotic and degenerative child!!! - he screamed towards the heavens in which he never believed. - Who cut off my goddamn toe?!!! Aaahhh!!!
While holding for his misfortunate left foot, sound of huge door opening filled the darkened room. Blinding light soon followed. Shape of a man appears in front of the wounded clown. A man stood silent for a moment, doing nothing except observing Joker's reaction. And then he says...
"Well, well, well ... normally that's a deep subject for a shallow mind, but since your mind is such a terrible thing to waste, all I can say is... the pleasure so far has been all mine in meeting you."
Joker recognized the voice of Max DeVirgo.
"No, please, don't get up. Oh, wait, I forgot, you can't, not with that restraining belt on. I believe that the last time you met, you mentioned that you were going to kick my ass? Well, you should be happy to know I took you seriously." DeVirgo pulled something out of his pocket - a small package, wrapped in paper, and threw it on the table. "I think you misplaced this..."
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- Maxie, Maxie... Long time no shoot - the Joker reacted, completely forgetting about the pain he felt. He shortly glanced at package DeVirgo put on the table - The last time we've met each other, your little destroyer was burning up in Delta. And now... Look. At. You! Standing there tall as a mountain. You must be so proud.
Although clearly angered, the Clown sensed a weird, mild enjoyment while he was sitting there in a questioning room, looking at one his enemies, one of truly rare enemies whom he saw as a true value to himself. He respected Max DeVirgo in some twisted way but mainly because the Joker had a habit to use such initiative and daring characters for illuminating his own stature of grandure.
- I'd say that congrats are in order - he says. - You've managed to achieve what many people, all those "little people" out there, only dream of. And I gotta say that I adore the fact that you left me with one hand untied - he continued - ...so I can unwrap these bandages to see what you hunters did to me. Nice touch. Creative. Do tell me, although it's irrelevant now, how the hell did you capture me? Last thing I remember is that I was flying my 'dente through Kappa and all of the sudden... Bam!!! Some blinding light struck me.
"You could say that it was inspriation that struck you, or perhaps that you had an original thought and it so shocked your brain that you were struck dumb - which might be an improvement, come to think of it."
Max pulled out the chair on the other side of the table and sat down.
"Much as I like annoying you, though, and as much as I'd like to claim full credit for the skills of our pilots, I'll still be perfectly frank with you. And don't say hello, Perfect Frank, that was old ages ago. Nope, you just had the misfortune of cruising along, minding your own business, and somehow or other ramming right into the side of a Nomad Battleship. I know you tend to think that most laws don't apply to you, but even with standard inertial compensators, the old laws of physics DO still apply."
"Net result - you weren't secured in your seat, so you went flying forward when your ship came to an abrupt stop - and you smashed the hell out of your face on your viewscreen, and got knocked silly. Sillier, even. That Nomad ship was about two seconds from completely vaporizing your ship when one of our patrols came along and ended up taking out the Nomad, and in one of the greatest ironies in Sirius since it was announced that Mon'Star was a vegetarian, we ended up saving your life."
"Oh, and we didn't actually cut your toe off to irritate you - although I admit that was a secondary consideration - we cut your toe off because there was part of what looked like a Nomad type artifact attaching itself to you."
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J-man sat in silence for awhile, still observing his poor foot and thinking about what DeVirgo had just said to him. Whether he was paralyzed by what he just heard or by what his toe looked like? -- Anyone's guess is good. It was only half a minute that has actually passed but the silence lasted almost like several forevers. Yes, this word should exist in plural.
- You? - he finally spoken, calm like a wind on a windless night - You guys saved my life? Well, that's probably the stupidest thing I've ever heard! Any "sane" people would instantly put me down like a rabid dog or exterdite me to one of the four house authorities for a quick trial and execution. Yet, you keep me here in this interrogation room without actually interrogating me.
He stops talking and fixes his messed up hair with that left arm that was not tied. Evil smile widened his white, roughly textured face.
- There's some catch here. I'd bet on thousands jokes that there is something cooking in that thick skull of yours just as much as I'm sure that that's my toe wrapped up in a package on a table. What have you been up to, Maximilian?
"Since you've had a rather hard knock on the head, I won't stress your memory too hard at this particular point in the space time continuim. Actually, I think you've also graduated magna cum laude from the school of hard knocks, so this may have been your doctoral thesis. You know what the unofficial motto of the Bounty Hunters Guild is..."
Max had the most interesting smile - almost a smirk, but not quite - on his face.
"To catch a thief, it takes a thief."
The silence in the room as those words rolled over the Joker was thunderous.
"Welcome to the Bounty Hunters Guild, recruit Joker."
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- This conversation took an unpleasant turn. Haven't you heard? I kill hunters on everyday basis. True, I rarely meet you Core guys, but still -- dead Hunter is dead as much as any other. How can you put that aside and make an attempt to recruit one of your enemies? - captured Clown, although clearly and popularly demented, was trying to make some tangible sense out of this whole weird situation. - Ta-ta-ta-ta. Maximilian? Maximilian!!! You're walking over.... Correction, you're crushing your own principles here. You know... - he pauses for a moment and takes a look around the room to see if he missed some important detail of his surroundings. Soon after, the Joker glances back at Mr. Devirgo and starts smiling.
- You Core people really are loosing your minds from all this isolation. Completely. Let's call it...a Deltonian Syndrome. And they call me insane.
"I'm quite aware of your ... shall we say, taste, or perhaps passion, or maybe even near sexual desire ... for killing people that cross your path and annoy you. Or that don't cross your path and don't annoy you. Or that just happen to be cute kittens stuck in a tree, for that matter."
"So what?"
Max smiled again. "There's an old saying, that which does not kill you makes you stronger. I happen to believe in another old saying. Think of it as evolution in action. On the whole, we as individuals matter to each other. To the species as a whole, as long as there is proper genetic material, we don't matter at all. More importantly, though, is ensuring that the proper genetic material helps propogate the species. Thus, sometimes you have events come along that help cull the species, removing the weak from the herd while the strong survive. And then the strong passing along their genetic material is what helps a species survive."
"While I'm certain that this primary school science lesson is boring to you, it also helps explain my thoughts. I figure that it takes a mind as convoluted as yours to do so."
Max leaned back in his chair. "Think about it, Joker. In the Guild, we have hundreds of applicants come in every day. I got thrown out of the military. I got fired from my job. I used to be a Corsair or Outcast or Rogue and I want to go straight. My father/mother/son/daughter were killed by pirates. Hell, that last is one of the reasons I first joined the Guild - my wife was killed by pirates. And no, it wasn't you."
"All of these people seeking revenge, and they always forget the number one rule. Space is dangerous. That's it, good luck, have a nice day, get over it. So what should we do? Invest a ton of money in training all these recruits? Hell, no. Slap 'em into a cheap, mass produced ship, give 'em a halfway decent escape pod for when their ship gets whacked, and send 'em out. Once they get a taste of REAL combat - well, if they don't actually survive, tough. Don't care, I'll have twenty people that could replace them tomorrow. But those that DO survive combat, time and time again, and they learn from it - those are the special people."
"So basically you've been helping us out all along, as a trainer for our organization, and you didn't even know it. Doesn't that make you feel all warm and snuggly down inside?"
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- Yes, I've said something similar many times. So many of them out there just waiting to be put out of their misery. Makes me disgusted when I pass them by at freeports, shopping-malls, hydrogen fuel-stations, bars, trade-lanes. So fragile. So pointless. So controllable. Mellow shells filled with other people's ideas of "proper" direction. They easily become slaves of some fancy named "institution" which buys and sell fear - ex Arkham patient was sharing his thoughts with utter annoyance and ease. - And it's all wrapped up into beautiful package with a price-tag on the side which says "everything". It makes a man wanna get rid of the old job and step right into independent undertaking business. Less thrilling but more calming. Plus, you don't have to listen to anyone's bull**** - he paused and leaned over the table. - Thus, to me people are like old, overused jokes; once they've been told, then it's better to just shoot the comedian who used them on the stage. To hell with it, ha-ha. Execute the entire audience as well.
The Clown leans back to his chair and continues.
- By listening to you talk, it becomes clearer that your ambitions are growing larger and larger even as we speak. Perhaps I can't see through your goals hidden behind those doors over there but it's obvious that you're a man with some evil plan. That could get you killed one day, Maximilian. Didn't you know that? Ha-ha-ha.
- I'll give you some heads-up. Let me be fair as a clown can be, ha-hah - he says with obvious display of untruthfulness in his smile. - Let's say that I agree to get some things done for you today just for thrills. Are you sure that tomorrow I won't be the one who'll raise your castle to ground just for the fun of it? Yes--I'm a big, bad purple Wolf-Dragon. Could be dangerous to let me out of this cage.
Max smirked. "You know, at times you ought to consider changing your name. You're not a joker, you're a piker. You do things retail. Ambitious? Hell yes. Especially when we're going to do thing wholesale."
Max slid his chair back, and stood up. He leaned over the table, reached out with one hand, as if to pat the Joker on the cheek, but without actually touching him.
"Evil is such a relative term, don't you think? It presumes that the person making that judgement is good. But then, you can't always tell what is good and what is evil. While there is an absolute color white, and an absolute color black, once you move even one shade from the absolutes, you have taken on some of the attributes of the other. Thus, we have such lovely people as the Liberty Police. Their duty as a whole is to enforce the law - yet the constituent officers are some of the most corrupt individuals you could meet in the galaxy, at times even putting the Outcast Dons to shame. So are they good, or are they evil?"
Max sat back down.
"I do not judge others for their actions, nor do I expect or allow others to judge me for mine. While it is perfectly acceptable to despise and dislike you because of your personality, it is not up to me to judge whether your actions in the past, or your future actions, are inherently evil. Instead, I must do what I must do - to be true to my own ideals, to advance and encourage my own agenda, which I do to help my own people. Recent example - the Corsair and Guild non-agression pact. If I can work with the descendants of those who ate of their own flesh, why can I not work with you, who eats his own mind?"