American comic Gotham, the sheriff of Arkham

In hell, the clown sat on a chair made of the bodies of a group of demons. The hideous heads of the demons were stepped on by the clown. They wailed silently and their tongues were tied.

The clown was holding a pair of big eyeballs in his hands, juggling and throwing the ball up and down. It was so boring here.

He was so bored that he wanted to kill all the demons in hell. However, there was no death in hell, only eternal purgatory and pain. The Joker was sure that this hell was his punishment.

He now missed Gotham City so much. Just think about it, that place covered by dark clouds, driven by chaos, and abandoned by the gods.

awesome!

When everyone has a sad face, worrying about work, salary, life, tomorrow and other troubles, and the world is filled with gray.

The Joker's figure is like a colorful one, which is out of tune with the gray and white scene around it. He dances gracefully on the big stage of Gotham, dancing the ballet Swan Lake, bringing a colorful world to those people.

Why be so serious? Why not have a good laugh and laugh at this shitty world together.

But the Joker is now racking his brains to find a word worse than shit to describe what hell is like.

Look at what's here, bad guys, bad guys, and bad guys. Bad guys who have done a lot of evil are like a sticky swamp, emitting a disgusting and unpleasant smell.

Those seemingly majestic and powerful demons of hell, in the eyes of the clown, are just hippos that use their tails to spirally shit, spreading their feces everywhere and looking very proud of themselves.

This is not the life the Joker wants, he needs special treatment.

He wanted to see those good guys, and then watch them collapse and grit their teeth as they wanted to kill him.

He needed it so badly. The feeling was stronger than drugs, so strong that the Joker felt his brain itching and he wanted to grab it and rub it carefully, or hold it in his hand and have sex with it.

Just as the clown was about to untie his belt to take a look at his fire-breathing thing, a slender light blue demon with three large horns walked over with his hands behind his back.

"Joker, you seem to dislike this place."

The triangular demon said sarcastically, clenching his claws violently, and his fingertips made a sound of metal hitting stone. He looked at the clown with jealousy, but what he said was nonsense.

No demon would think that hell is a good place, and anyone who could go to the real world would be absolutely crazy.

"Ah? Is this that poor fellow again? When I see you, it's like seeing my mother who died many years ago. I should bury you again."

The clown nodded seriously, stood up and crushed a demon's head with one foot. In hell, the sins of sinners will be transformed into the power of hell, and the clown's madness is unique.

This made Malebolgia happy. In order to attack heaven, he needed such a powerful general. The clown's status in hell was rapidly improving, but he did not seem happy at all.

Dancing in the shit pit... Ugh!

The clown vomited it out directly, but unfortunately nothing came out, only a mouthful of fire filled with the breath of hell fell down.

"Damn it, why are you a high-level demon..."

The triangle demon was like a nagging woman, almost biting her handkerchief, and yelled in grievance that the clown was a mistress who seduced the heart of the great Lord of Hell, Malebolgia.

"Trouble..." The clown raised his hand, with fire brewing in his hand, and swung it at the triangle demon.

The instantaneous explosion blew the triangular demon away to the horizon.

"Come on, come on, don't let me wait in vain, my Christmas present, come quickly, I really miss you!"

The clown's soul was shaking with excitement. He could feel that the mark of hell he left behind was approaching. All he had to do was pick up the spear of destiny, the Spear of Longinus.

It can pierce through the thin layer of defense between the world and hell and let him get out of here.

What the hell is the power? What the hell is the demon from hell? In the eyes of the clown, these things are not as important as a hot dog with double mustard. It would be even better if there were some pickles.

------

On Second Avenue, a police car with music blaring was heading towards the suburbs. The driver was Miao Mu.

He was stuffing a double ham sandwich into his mouth.

He should have rested well at home on Christmas Eve, but the news given to him by the little penguin Oswald was too shocking.

Batman vs. Spawn, how could he miss such a live broadcast? He even prepared a camera, intending to take some live footage to decorate his blog space.

In the passenger seat was the deadly shooter Lawton, holding a Mosin-Nagant rifle. He looked very unhappy. He should have spent Christmas with his daughter today, but he had to work overtime to protect his boss.

Well, the resentment of those who work overtime is still very strong. Lawton has decided that if anyone dares to frown tonight, he plans to open a window in their heads so that they can see the world.

In the back row was the Riddler Nygma who followed. He just wanted to see the legendary Spawn. He had already studied Batman and had no other ideas.

After all, he is very busy now, so busy that he has no time to study those strange riddles.

Although there were only three people in the car, there were more than just three people. The Flash Barry also followed. Logically, in order to prevent the timeline from being changed, Barry rarely showed his face.

But this time, he was willing to go with Miaomu to watch the fun for the first time. Miaomu thought that it was most likely because of the photo, and Barry wanted to return the favor.

Of course, Jason didn't come, but Miaomu felt that it was not right to leave him alone at home, and was afraid that something might happen to him.

So he was sent to Jerry's house, even though Jerry was probably out on a date on Christmas Day.

It turned out that Miaomu was not wrong at all. Jason was sitting on the sofa with his schoolbag, watching a talk show on TV.

Jerry's fairly spacious apartment was now crowded with beautiful women wearing heavy makeup and each of their clothes was thinner than the last.

To be honest, the heating in this room is not very warm.

Jason held two popcorns and blocked his nose. The perfume was too strong, but Jerry, who was tall and strong, was happily having a party in the apartment, even though he was nowhere to be seen.

From the unsoundproofed bedroom next door came the sound of heavy breathing and the creaking of bed legs that were shaken off.

And intermittent sounds of praise.

"Yeah, oh, buffalo boy, you are... so strong. Ah!" The woman's wanton screams pierced through the wooden door.

Jason looked at the bag of popcorn in his arms, poured out the popcorn, put the bag over his head, and continued watching TV.

I don’t want to listen, I don’t want to listen, it’s just a turtle chanting.