[Flashback] Two Stubborn Mules
The Joker was an aging villain, and best Damian could tell the weaker they got the grander their delusions of destruction became. Then again the Joker had always been more about chaos and the trail of destruction that usually came with it was merely a pleasurable bonus to the whack job. The cowl was the flame to the pale villain's moth so even in these years of peace he stayed active. Word on the street was that he was dying. The big C was taking him for good where vigilantes before had failed.
Damian had always been a skeptic, he needed proof that this was the fate of one of his father's worst enemies. Unlike some of the others out there Joker wasn't the type to choose an heir apparent, probably thought he was going to live forever. Still if he had accepted death he wouldn't just fade into the shadows. Oh no, that bright red smiled freak would need one last big bang so everyone would remember his name.
The Gotham Wildcats had made it into their regional play-offs and the practically brand new stadium was packed to the brim. Not only would a "joke" on the stadium leave a lasting impression on Gothamites but the game was to be televised nationally. He stood like a stone gargoyle, foreboding and solemn against a nearby building, long range binoculars his eyes on the event. Still the young bat wasn't the only one at the party.
Swooping down to a familiar motorcycle he scoffed, of course he'd be there. "Who asked you to stick your neck in my business Red Hood?"
