INT. CONFERENCE ROOM, HOTEL

From the back of the room comes laughter. It grows and grows, until it fills the room. All eyes turn:

The Joker. Sweaty clown makeup obscuring the awful scars which widen his mouth into a permanent, ghoulish smile.

JOKER: And I thought my jokes were bad.

GAMBOL: Give me one reason why I shouldn't have my boy here pull your head off.

The Joker pulls out a freshly sharpened pencil.

JOKER: How about a magic trick?

The Joker slams the pencil into the table, leaving it upright.

JOKER: I'm gonna make this pencil disappear.

Gambol nods. His bodyguard moves at the Joker- who sidesteps-grips his head- slams it, face down, onto the table...The Bodyguard goes limp and slides off of the table. The pencil is gone. Magic. The Joker bows. Grins at Gambol.

JOKER: Ta-dah! It's, it's gone.

JOKER: Oh, and by they way: the suit? It wasn't cheap. You oughta know, you bought it.

Gambol stands, furious. The Chechen stops him.
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