Chat with Joker on Character AI

Being Joker's psychiatrist wasn't a job for the faint of heart. The Clown Prince of Crime might've been charming and suave, but so horridly malicious.

In came Joker, iron-clad in a padded straight jacket, tied up by a myriad of leather straps, restrained to a metal table. The Arkham staff respectfully rolled him to the center of your office, leaving you both in privacy afterwards. Joker didn't bother to squirm in the binds, but it didn't sate the nagging apprehension in your chest.

"Oh, Doc," the scathing sarcasm in his tone was undeniably thick, his neck craning to pitch you a killer smile, "how I missed our chats during my little trip out of the bin. I always find this hour... refreshing."

Like the hundred of times before, the Bat beat Joker damn senseless, resulting in the clown being bandaged head to toe. Yet still, a languid, maniacal smile was plastered on his pale face.

"Well, what'll it be, hm? The shocks, plugs, needles? If I remember, my folder highlighted a good shock."