- Every time you think you have it all figured out, please check the plan. (c) Unknown Mad Counsellor.
Chapter One...
- No, I'm serious! - In a panic, he seems to be trying to get some important point across to you - whatever you do, don't deviate from the plan. Don't trust what you see, or you'll be tricked! It's all a trap Joe...! - The unknown voice, unfortunately, suddenly disappears into the background of the interference, having failed to deliver its thought. Despite your slight suspicion, it doesn't seem that important to you, as you are confident enough and ready for anything.
... And the story finally begins.
Arthur Shapochkin sat at his computer and clacked on the keyboard, hoping to find at least one interesting series or animated series on Batman.
It just so happened that a strong nostalgia came over him for the old days, when he happily pored over the works of the DC universe.
Not that there was anything special about them. Far from it. It's just that unlike Marvel there seemed to be more logic there, and more drama, which he sometimes loved because he was a die-hard optimist.
As it happens, when you spend your life trying to fight negative thoughts and look at everything through rose-coloured glasses, sometimes you get tired of the eternal 'sweetness' and want to savour the bitterness.
The gloomy universe of DC was ideal for entertaining the optimist's brain tired of boring reality. In the comics moderately dwelt gloom and measured pathos, which were so lacking in the grey everyday life, and especially at work.
And his job was not a pleasant one. Arthur was in the business of pushing product over the phone to make a fortune.
'Our company offers the best regulations and bonus programmes for partners,' - relaxed reclined in his chair, Arthur Shapochkin learnedly told, in parallel checking what comic book can be ordered tonight.
Arthur saw in his craft only a way to earn money. Yes, in some places unclean, but that's only if you think about 'high morality' and 'justice', which in the world of business no one gave up.
And in his business, words have become nothing more than a soulless tool.
- With your talents, we'll be the best, Arthur! You're our guiding star! - the boss was always telling him, showering him with luscious compliments and tempting gifts.
The rest of the staff watched their relationship with anguished envious looks, hating Arthur as the obvious favourite.
One day one of his colleagues asked, 'when will I get cool shoes?', only there was no answer.
Already a newcomer, Arthur attracted a lot of clients, even if some of them went to his colleagues, because there were too many applications.
He was considered a rising star.
When talking to his colleagues, Arthur felt comfortable and relaxed, but he always noticed that this comfort was the result of their skilful eloquence rather than good intentions.
During his time working in various offices and in countless interactions with people, he had learnt something: people didn't care about his truth or his lies - all they really cared about was what they wanted to believe.
- Why are you tired? You're doing so well,' the "friend" sitting opposite asked.
Arthur rubbed his temple and poured a hot cup of coffee down his throat to dispel the heavy drowsiness. The man across from him always spoke in the 'language of profit', and therefore did not understand people who saw problems in fatigue and boredom, because these concepts had nothing to do with earnings.
Fortunately, Arthur also understood this and did not start an unnecessary polemic, extinguishing his interlocutor's 'fervour' in the bud:
- Let's take a break. I have something to do.
Arthur, who had undergone more than one training and a lot of trainings, every time treated any difficulties calmly and judiciously. But he was still tired of digesting each new conversation in a new way, as in an endless repetitive torture.
He gained knowledge in the field of communication, psychology and sales, improved and developed his strategy, but people... they never changed.
And that was the hardest thing to accept.
It was November. Winter was coming. Artur Shapochkin stepped out of the underground and held one of the newest issues of DC Comics in his hands. In the new issue, the Joker and Harley Quinn were going to set a trap for Batman and finally defeat him, even though the whole battle was a mere formality. The Joker never wanted to kill Batman, he was interested in something else.
Arthur was secretly attracted to the Joker's arrogance and freedom throughout his reading of the story, and he found himself involuntarily thinking.
Shapochkin believed that people fell into two main categories: the first, rotting like scum because of their principles, usually all good and honest people; the second, spitting on people and going over other people's heads to achieve their goals.
Arthur attributed himself to the first type of people, Joker to the second, and Batman... Once in a while there were exceptions among these two groups that could change the usual rules. And this exception was for Arthur Batman, combining the valour of a hero and the cruelty of a supervillain.
The right decisions on the brink of folly - all this is about Batman. But how much easier it was for the Joker... who didn't think about the boundaries of permissibility.
'I wish I could learn to live like the Joker,' Arthur said.
- Look out!
Hearing a loud beep right next to his ear, Arthur turned around, and a bright light blinded his eyes.
A sharp pain struck his body mercilessly and pushed him backwards against the hard tarmac. The rough ground pressed into his fingers, tearing his skin to a bloody pulp. Artur Shapochkin collapsed on the rubbish bin, moved his lips once, trying to grasp the bright light with his fingers, and rapidly began to lose his strength, without even finding out why Joker and Harley were preparing to meet Batman.
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Bzz-z-z...
* Rustling and screeching interference *
'Welcome to Joker Authority.'