Chapter 182 Daily Life in Arkham (Part 1)

"Name?"

"Philip Best."

"Okay, Jack."

The Joker was lying on the bed, and Schiller stood beside the bed with a medical record. He said, "You'd better call out your psychologist personality and describe your symptoms quickly, otherwise I'll write nonsense."

"Untie my right hand, I want to smoke a cigarette." Jack shook his hair and said, Schiller walked up and untied his right hand tied to the armrest of the bed. Jack made a gun gesture with his hand and aimed at Schiller.

Schiller moved a chair and sat down next to his bed, then found a tape recorder and a blank tape from the cabinet, put the tape into the tape recorder, and pressed the button to start recording.

"Okay, tell me about your life."

Jack curled his lips, glanced at the tape recorder, looked at Schiller, and said, "My name is Philip Best, a truck driver serving the Antar Gang..."

Jack muttered a lot, such as his mortgage and car loan, he went to the supermarket to stock up on weekends, his neighbor's house next door caught fire, etc.

Schiller pressed the tape recorder and then said, "Okay, next one."

Jack looked at him, and he also looked at Jack. The two of them stared at each other for a long time. Schiller said to him, "Why are you looking at me? Hurry up and make up another one. I'm useful."

Jack raised his head and shook it, rolled his eyes, and muttered a few words in Schiller's tone, and then he made up an origin for himself.

In this way, after Schiller asked the Joker to make up more than a dozen origin stories for himself, he took the tape off the tape recorder with satisfaction.

As the saying goes, garbage is a resource that is placed in the wrong place. The origin story that the Joker created for himself is not only true and reasonable, but also rich in details and quite vivid. As long as the background of the times is changed, it can be used as a fake identity with a rich personality.

Schiller has not forgotten that he has many agents planted in Marvel's Arkham Sanatorium, and this fake identity is just right for use.

Jack turned his body sideways and stretched his head to look at Schiller, his eyes wide open. He said: "You know? I hate two kinds of people the most, one is too ordinary, and the other is people who are very similar to me.

"And you, you are obviously a person who is very similar to me, but you pursue to be an ordinary person, but Jack, the most professional psychology master in the world, tells you that you can't do it, hahahahahaha!"

Before he finished laughing, Schiller took the spine of the notebook and slapped his injured hand. Jack screamed in pain, and then let out a series of crazier laughter. He said: "I got you right! I poked the pain point! You will never be an ordinary person, hahahahahaha! "

Schiller took a deep breath and said, "After today's consultation, you will get out of here and go to the general ward. Do you know how valuable the beds here are? Don't delay me from making money."

"Money? Hahahaha!" Jack laughed even harder, and the bed began to tremble because of his laughter. After a while, he choked himself and began to cough wildly, then stretched out his hand to Schiller and said, "Water, thank you."

Schiller didn't give it to him, and he didn't mind. Instead, he stopped laughing and collapsed on the bed to gasp. He said, "That joke is funny, right? If there is a movie theater where you can really buy tickets with popcorn, I will definitely buy tickets for a whole week and watch all the movies I haven't finished watching."

Suddenly he became deep again, sighed and said, "They are chasing money, it's ridiculous, right? What's even more ridiculous is that the money they pursue is no different from popcorn..."

"And the funniest thing is, hahaha..." He started laughing again, shaking himself with laughter. "The funniest thing is that there is a madman who knows that money is popcorn, but he still pursues it, hahahahaha..."

"Why? Because he is crazy! He thinks... He actually thinks that as long as he pursues fame and fortune like ordinary people, he can become an ordinary person, hahahahahahaha..."

He found that Schiller was watching silently, and Jack grinned and said, "Why are you so serious? Didn't you laugh happily in the theater before?"

"Because the reason why hell jokes are funny is that it is someone else's hell." Schiller stood up again and said, "Of course it's fun to watch Batman, you think so too, right?"

Jack wiped the tears of laughter with the hand that was released. He didn't act as crazy as he did in the theater. Instead, he seemed very normal, but even more weird.

"To be honest, I didn't expect you to be so supportive. I really love this place! "

"You should thank the Court of Owls. The continuous heavy rain has more or less affected the residents here. All the residents. Even if they are not exposed to the rain, they can't help but inhale moisture in the air when breathing, so everyone is a little crazy."

"I know, of course I know... Otherwise, why would I tell my plan on TV? I know someone will come, there must be a group of annoying people..." Jack gritted his teeth the previous second, and said in a humble tone the next second: "Oh, no, it's the distinguished audience. There will definitely be someone who will come to watch the comedy performance brought by this poor clown..."

"Except Batman, he didn't want to come, I had to take him there."

"This is exactly what I hate most about the Court of Owls. They created a kind of rain that can drive people crazy, but this rain is ineffective against Batman. They are a bunch of idiots." Jack said viciously.

"You are lying again. If this rain really works on Batman, the Court of Owls will be a thousand times worse than it is now." Gu Yu

Jack pursed his lips and whistled twice, as if to cover up his lying behavior. He moved his body and leaned on the pillow. He said as if he had found a soulmate: "Look, you think so too, right? Batman is actually a madman, but he doesn't admit it. If there is any external factor that makes him crazy, it would be too boring."

"Do you think he really wanted to laugh at the performance yesterday?" Jack blinked his eyes, his somewhat turbid eyes were full of longing, and his tone became excited again. "I hid in the alley and secretly watched him several times, watching him break the arms and legs of those robbers."

"But he is so serious." Jack complained: "Can't he be a little happier? Listening to the wailing of those robbers, listening to the criminals he hates and hates the most begging for mercy in his hands, how can he not be happy? If he is happy, why not laugh?"

As long as Batman is mentioned, Jack is simply endless, but Schiller is not interested in listening to his crazy talk. He tapped the side of the notebook with his pen and said: "I also have two kinds of people I hate the most, One is the one who makes trouble for me, and the other is the one who is justified after making trouble. "

Before Jack could say anything, Schiller continued: "It seems that we are exactly the kind of people that each other hates the most. Since we are tired of each other, let's have less contact. Tomorrow you can move to the next ward and live with Cobert."

Jack snorted and said, "You are such a smart guy."

The next day at noon, Schiller just came back from the cafeteria after eating and found Jack squatting at the door of the ward crying. He leaned against the door frame of the ward, covered his face, and cried very sadly.

Schiller passed by him without looking at him. Jack grabbed his white coat and said, "Oh my God! How can there be such a boring person in this world? How can you arrange me and him in the same ward?"

He grabbed Schiller's white coat with one hand and refused to let go. With the other hand, he wiped away his non-existent tears and said, "He just told me a joke, but even this joke was extremely boring."

"He actually said he wanted to open a restaurant, you know? And then he even wanted to put an iceberg in the restaurant, my God..."

"I always thought that dressing up as a bat was perverted enough, but someone actually wanted to dress up as a penguin, penguin, hahahahahaha!"

"Doctor, they are all crazy, you have to save me!" Jack began to tremble all over. "I don't want to stay with these lunatics!"

Schiller bent down, grabbed his wrist, and pulled his hand off his clothes. He bent down and said to Jack: "First of all, this is a mental hospital. If one of you or he is not crazy, you would not be here."

"Secondly, now is not the time for wind. If you dare to run out of the ward again, I will expel Batman from Gotham University and let him go to Metropolis to study. You will never see him again."

Jack got up quickly, ran to the bed and lay down, and covered the quilt by the way. He hummed a song and said: "Little Jack should go to bed obediently, hum hum hum... sing a lullaby..."

He closed one eye and pretended to be asleep, and secretly opened the other eye to peek at Schiller's reaction.

Cobert next to him sighed deeply. He looked at Schiller at the door and said, "Doctor, I suggest you move him to the next ward."

He pointed to the wall behind him with his thumb and said, "Evans must have a lot in common with him."

"More importantly, if this lunatic stays any longer, I will definitely beat him up."

"Okay, he will go live with Evans tomorrow."

The next day, Schiller came back from lunch again. He found that Jack had somehow climbed up to the observation window high on the wall. He rode on the observation window and moved his body clumsily, as if he wanted to flip out.

Before Schiller asked what was going on, Evans's roar came from inside: "You actually like those musical comedies!! And you even insult classicism!! I really misjudged you, those new operas are a complete blasphemy to opera!! "

"You are crazy!" Jack rode on the observation window, waving his fist and shouting: "Those Baroque operas are all old-fashioned stuff! Monteverdi is completely rubbish! They don't understand humor at all!"

As he said, he shook his head and learned a few singing styles. His dry voice and weird singing style were all emotions, without any skills.

He was high above the observation window, spitting and spraying all the masters of Baroque opera and classical opera, and Evans was so angry that he threw a pillow at him.

Apart from anything else, Evans was still very strong. He stood below and hit Jack's face with a pillow. Jack's arm was injured and he couldn't hold the wall steadily. He fell directly outside the ward and landed in front of Schiller.

He was still very angry and wanted to get up and rush back to the ward to continue arguing with Evans. Schiller grabbed his clothes and said, "Do you want to go back and get beaten? You don't really think you can beat him, do you?"

Jack was furious. He shouted, "He doesn't understand music at all, that idiot! Classical opera is just whining, can you imagine it? There are still old-fashioned people who like those things now. Only comic operas and musicals are interesting!"

Evans leaned out of the door frame and shouted, "You are the one who has no taste! You damn lunatic!"

"You are the lunatic!"

Schiller stood by and was speechless, firstly because he didn't understand opera very well, and secondly because he didn't understand lunatics very well.