19469/Joker The Movie

Joker The Movie
Date of Scene:	13 November 2024
Location:	Ryker Heights - Founders Island
Synopsis:	Burt Weston tries to catch a Joker caper in real time. He manages it as Joker decides a new luxury car brand has to die. A fifty car pile up ensues.
Cast of Characters:	The Joker, Gwen Stacy, Talia al Ghul, Dick Grayson, Barbara Gordon, Wally West, Caleb Dykstra

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The Joker has posed:
"Hello folks!" Burt Weston looks a bit like the stereotype for a hungry young director; thin, cigarette stains on the fingers, shaved head, wide blue eyes and a little film reel earring as the only concession to not looking like a guy in jeans and a hoodie with a camera. Something about the man is. Let's focus on hungry. "Burt Weston here with the first stage in our bold new experiment in cinema. They said it couldn't be done. They said he'd kill me. But we're about to take the first step towards a holy grail of crime verte. Watch." Burt holds a cell phone up to the camera.

"This is the Joker speaking." The clown's voice manages to be cold even through two layers of broadcasting. "And Gotham, I just want to talk a minute about."

Joker's broadcast moves to a strange polygonal car that's decorated with 'WHY SO SERIOUS' in big scary letters and, on the side, a mural of an exaggerated Joker face pouring chocolate sauce on Harley Quinn, who's standing in ice cream for some reason.

"I don't." Joker makes a motion on the screen. "I don't feel like I have to say anything. Benton Adams bought up the twenty of these vehicles, which are on their way to Gotham tonight. I am going to hijack the delivery and drive it directly into the water, where they will immediately rust and die."

The camera turns back to Burt. "And we're going to watch!"

The US 240 is a major trade route going directly through Gotham's rich Ryker Heights neighborhood before getting off at the much beloved warehouse district, a popular shortcut for shipments of high yield goods that no one wants to put on the regular roads. Private police, and the occasional costumed mercenary for hire, often supplant security for Gotham's ultra rich and their favorite toys. It is considered somewhat crazy to attempt a robbery, especially on the narrow, dangerous road.

It's dusk. The shipment of cybertrucks is on time; the driver had been warned about the Joker's ultimatum, and there are at least three men with shotguns and bravado protecting the shipment at various points. It takes a big truck to transport twenty five luxury cars, and the approach is a little awkward.

Burt Weston and his crew are driving in a white industrial van with his double film reel symbol painted on the side, hanging to the left and behind the delivery convoy and getting great footage. Burt has a crew of four supporting him, stuffed in the little van and trying not to turn over on the tight turns.

And right on time, coming as if from nowhere, is a truly bizarre car, a purple roadster with a large futuristic glass dome on the front shaped like a white faced clown's smile. There are what are best described as components that allow things to happen. The Jokermobile!

Gwen Stacy has posed:
It's odd for one of the New York City Spiders to be in Gotham. It's even odder for her to be in one of the Batcave's annexes -- the one that... you know what? That's supposed to be secret. Let's just say it's the one Gwen Stacy was standing in beside Dick Grayson when all of the alarms started going off.

"Wait... can I come? Are we going to take the car? Can I drive? Do you have a siren?"

Thankfully for the people of Gotham, she was not granted her wish, since she doesn't know how to drive, especially a car like the Nightbird. She was, however, granted passenger privileges once she switched quickly into her Ghost-Spider costume.

Parked inconspicuously wherever Nightwing decided to stage for this little outing, the white-and-black costumed vigilante was sitting right beside him, her big, expressive eyes narrowing as she grins.

"Hey! You know what I realized? This our first bad guy together. We should take a selfie. We could start a keepsake box!"

Her hands come up to her mouth (or, well, mouth-area). It's probably hard for a casual observer to tell if she's being serious. She's not. With Ghost-Spider, when you can't tell if it's sarcasm, it's sarcasm. And if you can tell it's sarcarsm, it's also sarcasm.

"Oh! Do you guys have like... Bat Jail? What do you do once you get everybody webbed up? Or, you know.. whatever Bats do to them?"

Then even more alarm bells start going off. The Jokermobile is on the move, and Ghost-Spider's eyelets widen in eager anticipation. There's not so much as a trace of fear.

"Right. The robbery. We should probably..." She's pointing ahead. As if Dick wouldn't know to drive unless she did. And when she realizes it, she actually lifts her _other_ hand and lowers her pointing hand back down into her lap, clearing her throat apologetically. "Sorry. Your show. I'm just here for backup. But if you get me close, feel free to hit the eject button and I'll figure it out from there." Beat. "I mean it! You do have an eject button, right? This car is _way_ too cool not to have an eject button..."

She just hopes he doesn't use it before they get there, if she keeps talking.

Talia al Ghul has posed:
The absurdity of such a crime is difficult to even fathom, much less take seriously. In fact, if it were anyone but the Joker, Talia may have written it off as bravado. Not only because it's insane, which is still is, but because the ends don't justify the considerable means. Like a publicity stunt to bring back Crystal Pepsi, which was hugely unpopular even when it originally hit shelves, and only became so after the very short run. No amount of Van Halen could have saved it.

With that said, Talia is not here to get in the way.

What the Joker does to the wealthy elite of Gotham City is his own business. She couldn't summon up a single shit to give any less. No, absolutely not. She's here to watch the train wreck. Seated in her black sedan up near one of the observation points along the winding road that dot this side of the exchange. Her driver, a dark skinned individual, has an assault rifle in the passanger seat, but that's almost certainly a measure of self defense. Whereas Talia herself is finishing up a video meeting on a screen set into the back of the driver side seat. "Tozai-san, anata no seihin wa amari shinpai suru koto naku ichiba ni demawaru koto o hosho shimasu." Sip of whatever beverage she's poured for herself.

"Tosha no sutaffu wa sudeni saibu ni made me o kubatte imasu. Watashi ga anata ni hitsuyona no wa, haitatsu no hosho dakedesu." The pleasantries are conducted, the call is ended, and she settles back in her seat with a glance down at her expensive watch. "Shouldn't be long now, Naif. Make sure to keep your distance. I don't want to get drawn into this absurdity."

Dick Grayson has posed:
The Joker.

Nothing good ever comes out of that lunatic being involved in anything. While the broadcast certainly doesn't promise the worst that particular madman is capable of, it is still generally a good idea to work on the assumption that anything the Joker wants to accomplish, it's probably better to stop it.

Even if it is turning a bunch of Cybertrucks into scrap metal. Things are rarely entirely straight forward when any of the Gotham lunatics are involved.

While he might not have technically planned on answering this sort of call of duty when he began to show Gwen around the Batcave Annex nestled beneath the Lakehouse that he presently calls home, Dick knows for sure that he can answer the call. But he can't be sure who else in the family might be available. Which means other matters had best be put aside and in short order the dark haired man has suited up in his black and blue costume, leading the way to the awaiting Nightbird.

"You can. Just be careful. Joker might seem like your typical lunatic but he is incredibly dangerous," he offers up to Gwen quietly. Not exactly the first thing he would have chosen to show her in Gotham City admittedly, but there you go. "We will take the car, at least until we're on the scene and see what's up," he adds before flashing a brief smile. "I think I'll drive. This time. Do you even have a license? I figured you just swung everywhere you needed to go," he teases.

Then they are off, that sleek black vehicle earing down the undergorund passage, stony walls looming up on either side as a thin track of lights leads the way up and out onto some deserted backroad. The engine roars as the powerful vehicle tears down the road towards Ryker's Heights, finding a suitable place to take up an overwatch position, waiting for the convoy.

And the promised attack.

The playfulness is infectious to be sure, tempered only by the fact that Nightwing knows all too well just who they're dealing with and he glances towards her, a wry smile briefly twisting the line of his mouth upward. "Lets wait until after the Joker's dealt with. It can be our first victory selfie," he allows. "And we do have a Bat-Jail. It's called Arkham. And the security there sucks."

The question of the ejector seat button goes unanswered as Nightwing stares at the road ahead. But it seems like a good bet. There is a better than fifty-fifty chance that Ghost-Spider will be launched before the night is through.

Barbara Gordon has posed:
A man in a black and white suit is snearing with a maniacle expression on his face, and a chain wrapped bat being raised up in his hands. Whatever plans he's got in his mind are interrupted, by a gloved fist that punches through the wall behind his right shoulder. The man is summarily covered in dry wall, and detritus frown the blown out hole, while the gloved hand grabs hold of him, and pulls him through the wall itself. A series of loud crunches herald the man being torn through the wall, in to another room, filled with the fallen bodies of other men in black and white suits. He begins to scream bloody murder, as he whirls the bat around, only to have it blocked by a spiked gauntlet. A loud clang follows the swift blocking move, followed by the masked face of Batgirl staring right in to the man's dirt covered face. She only lets their eyes lay upon one another for a second, before her armored helmet is sent forward in to a brain rattling headbutt, that sends the suited man back through the hole she'd just torn him through. He falls backward, landing hard on his backside, the chain bat clattering across the floor, as blood covers the man's shattered nose. Batgirl steps through the hole, pushing aside some of the broken wall, as she moves in over him, and peers down at him.

She too is covered in filth, and debris from the fight that has been unfolding for the past half an hour, the entire building a mess following the arrival of the caped crusader, following a lead on the henchmen of the Two-Face.

She stared down at the man she had just knocked flat on his back, when the sounds of the situation over the comm system came through her mask. It caused her to shift gears, and her filth covered face to express a heavy exhale.

She turned, and stepped over the fallen man's body, moving out in to a nearby hallway, she began to sweep her way through a series of other fallen men, put to sleep via methods of her combat prowess, or sleeping agents administered through tech explosives.

Batgirl dashes in to the alley behind the building, and slips inside of her own lightly armored Batmobile, akin to a Formula-1 racer on steroids, its heavy tires squeal on the wet pavement, as she pilots the vehicle toward the direction of whatever was unfolding next within the city of chaos.

"Batgirl here, I'm not far away." She says over the team network, now situated inside of the cockpit styled interior of her personal transport, it barreling down one of the Gotham alleyways.

Wally West has posed:
Know what's weirder than a Spider being in Gotham?

A Flash.

It's not the first time Joker was up to something absolutely insane. Wasn't the first time somebody wanted to film it either. And it *definitely* wasn't the first time in Gotham someone wanted to do grand theft auto. Doesn't matter how many people are protecting shipments. Joker always manages to find a way, just like however many of Gotham's rogues.

A sudden movement and motion, and the Scarlet Speedster is running through the streets of Gotham, his green eyes covered by simple goggles to keep things out of his eyes and to help him see clearly. Blue electricity danced around him like he owned it. And as he sprints, he finds a good place to see the whole thing.

"Woof. That looks like it's going to go way bad way fast." He runs a hand through his hair. "Did Joker....make a Jokermobile? He's really got to get off of Batman's schtick." Then....then he's smiling.

"Hah, I haven't had to punch a clown in months."

And then he's off again, a blur of movement as he made his way towards the convoy. Out of all of them, he might get there fastest. Out of all of them, he's somehow also the most likely to show up late.

But he always did love an entrance.

Caleb Dykstra has posed:
Perusing streaming channels while cruising on a prototype vehicle of his own making, this magnific (and crazy) occasion that Burt streams calls the attention of one Caleb Dykstra.

Now, in a vehicle of a totally unknown configuration, with darkened windows, he can risk a coming to Gotham - which brings us to the moment he gets wind of this.

Now, against all better judgement (maybe he's crazy, or it's the growing vigilante side in him), he feels it's something of a civic duty to do something.

The streaming helps to give him a bearing. "Okay... Let's do this, then..."

Pressing a button on his cellphone (and electronic car key), he changes the settings for a high speed pursuit, and starts heading for the location of the action.

The Joker has posed:
Let's take a minute to talk about Gotham highways.

You'd think that this sort of high octane fast and the furious style action would result in a massive traffic pile up and a few deaths just getting into position, right? Well this all goes back to what some people call 'the Golden Age', where super-villains were just angry men with hockey sticks and zombie gangsters fighting the first Green Lantern. There was a massive pile up during a chase, known as Clover Turn Thursday, when the Weeper's plan to run tears down the Gotham 105 made a genuine sixty car (and one Bulletman) pile up. Enter Aston Sprang, architect, engineer, mad poet. Aston and his brother Martin were the core of the Sprang movement, an architectural school made in response to these early days of the supermen and a the greatest contributor to Gotham's skyline since the old Neo Gothic days. Sprang designed a highway system with something new and frightening: redundancies, off roads designed for quick departure and remerging into a different part of the city. This is part of why criminal and vigilante both can show up seemingly out of nowhere on what should be crowded, congested city roads, and how the civilians can get to safer climates quickly and efficiently.

The convoy is trapped. There isn't enough room to peel off and the driver is being paid too well to get these cars into place. Out of towners, no one on this crew really thought a guy who'd been on the Injustice League would show up to harass some cheaply made novelty cars. The driver sweats, as he contacts his support team, trying to keep things together. All four check in.

Burt and his gang aren't totally out of towners but they're getting fantastic footage here. "Look at that!" Burt says, "The Batmobile! I wonder if it'll blow up!" He turns his camera to Talia's car, a little surprised why a clear civilian car isn't getting the hell out of the way. It's worth a look.

The Jokermobile does not care about the rules of the road. "We're getting into range!" Johnny Frost, Joker's favorite driver, shouts in what is fundamentally a hot rodding tank. "But we've got company!"

"Batman." Boffo the Berserker, a huge man with a plastic clown mask and enough survived Joker runs to be somewhat legendary, says. "I'm going to try and slow him down. Maybe it's one of the kids. We need at least a few more minutes for the boss to make contact."

The back of the Jokermobile opens up, revealing a space for a number of gadgets to be deployed. Boffo sticks his head out, a burlap sack in his hands. "Mister Joker says, Corny entrance, Batman!" Boffo shouts, hurling something out of the sack. Certain chemicals twist and change, and with a POP, kernels of popcorn the size of tire destroying road blocks burst into life. Are they really corn, or some kind of metal gadget shaped like popcorn? The important thing is about a dozen of them are in the way, Nightwing!

Talia al Ghul has posed:
Front row seats.

    From the back seat.

There were only a few locations this particular transport might take to avoid the main streets of Gotham. Where any number of obstacles may have created a far more deadly interaction with the multitude of lunatics that comprise the vase majority of gangs, criminals, and affiliates to said gangs & criminals. Narrow that down further with a, necessary, access to I240. Simple math. Plan ahead. Plan often. Plan very deep.

Talia taps her manicured nail against her black painted bottom lip as the convoy of vehicles make their way along the turns of the narrow street where her sedan was parked. The Driver doesn't say anything obnoxious, like 'here they come', since it's obvious. Hard to miss a semi-truck loaded with goofy looking novelty vehicles and a another in a comedic knockoff of the batmobile with Joker's glass mug on the front.

A sigh.

Where she may request popcorn as the fireworks begin, that would be too 'on the nose' given the sudden appearance of roadblock sized popcorn objects hurled in the direction of the 'actual' batmobile. One of them. She cants her head with a raised dark brow. The eyes narrow, scrutinizing. "Not Batman." She desides. "He would have come from the other direction and dropped in behind the transport to block the Joker's approach. Seperated him from his target." Which means one of the boys.

Tap.

"Nightwing. He drives too well for Red Robin and Red Hood would have already shot out his tires." Tap. "Maybe Damian." Ultimately she shakes her head, "No, he would have taken the Batwing. Tactically more sound.."

Gwen Stacy has posed:
"Incredibly Dangerous is... well, it's not actually my middle name. Fun fact, it's Maxine, actually, and if you tell anyone that I'll spread vicious rumors about your Batcave being untidy."

It almost looks like Ghost-Spider wants to stick her tongue out at Nightwing. But... well... masks, you know.

"I was... planning to get a license. One day. I've raced Go-Carts. How much harder could it possibly be?"

Yeah. There's the compelling vote of confidence that won't win her a seat behind the wheel of the Nightbird any time soon. Also, mayyyyybe he won't realize she compared his car to a Go-Cart. She called it cool, too, though!

It's still a lot of fun even to be in the passenger seat, though, as Nightwing steers them up onto the highway towards the action. Really, how many people -- even with cops as fathers -- can say they've had a ride along like _this_?

It doesn't take long for her Spider-Sense to start going off like crazy, though. The way she tries to brace herself before anything serious even happens, it's like one can almost see the little squiggles appear above her head. "Heads up!"

The Spider-Sense is good enough to get out of the way of a bullet, but it's not like a minutes-in-the-future thing. She doesn't get any more than that out before the danger is real and present, those 'popcorn kernels' popping into existence.

"...Did he just call you Batman?! Huh. That's interesting... maybe we should all start wearing blue and red... then we can all meet up and try to guess which one is which..."

Caleb Dykstra has posed:
"To all you vigilantes out there trying to stop the killer clown posse - apologies for the insult to the band -", Caleb says over an open comm, "this is a concerned citizen who's willing to help out." He's coming into view as he turns a corner, and gaining fast. The car is small in comparison, likely a two-seater, but is by no means any less maneuverable.

"I've worked with some of you on occasion, but it's likely you won't remember me. But I'm here to help out. What's the game plan?"

Dick Grayson has posed:
Definitely not the Batman.

While the days of Nightwing harboring any resentment towards his longtime mentor are well in the past, he nonetheless has his own distinct style. And what he is driving is distinctly not any Batmobile, not with the hood emblazoned with his symbol in blue paint, stark and pointed against the sheer black background.

The Nightbird does not have sheer performance or the built in arsenal of the Batmobile for one. It's advantage comes in the fact that it's outer shell is designed to be easily removed and replaced with a variety of other looks, making urban camoflague much more of an option. A miniature tank stands out. The Nightbird can look like almost anything with fifteen minutes or so up on the blocks back at the Batcave.

Not that there is any doubt about it on this particular night.

As the Jokermobile comes into view, already in position to harrass that convoy, the masked man behind the wheel revs that engine, glancing towards his passenger and flashing Ghost-Spider a tight grin. "Maxine huh? What? I like it," he says. Though chances are this is not the last time she is going to hear about that.

Then they are out on the street, tearing down the roadway towards their target, joining in the highspeed pursuit that already seems to be attracting it's share of others. "I think we'll hold off on letting you drive until you can at least get your license. Or if there is an emergency. Or if you're -very- persuassive," he says, eyes firmly fixed on the road as the first of those little gadgets tumbles out before exploding outward into a giant barrier.

"You might want to hold on! OR stick to something," Nightwing urges, pulling hard at the wheel of the Nightbird, tires squealing beneath the vehicle as it skids, leaving streaks of black across the pavement in it's wake.

But no crash comes and a moment later it appears, circling around that giant, unexpected barrier, doing the same once more to avoid the next, careening wildly through the obstructions at high speed as he seeks to keep pace with his quarry.

Barbara Gordon has posed:
The Babsmobile came roaring up on the chaotic convoy, its wide tires rolling rapidly,as its powerful engine roared loudly. Smaller than Batman's Batmobile, Barbara's variant was equipped with an assortment of gadgets, and though it was more lightly armored, it was a bit faster, and a bit more agile. Agility was an important thing, when there were dangerous obstacles strewn across the highway, like there suddenly is now.

Behind the wheel of her personal Batmobile variant, Barbara whips it to the side, sending her car nimbly racing around one of the tumbling gnarled metal balls, before she yanks the steering yoke to the other direction, avoiding another, before she lastly clips a third that rolls up over the side of her front left tire, colliding with a bit of the armor plating that leaves a hell of a mark in its wake. Barbara has a grimace befall her dirt smudged face, her mask filthy from the fight from earlier, as her green eyes stare out at the mayhem on the road. "Don't put yourself in harms way. If anything, just record what is happening, get as much information as you can." Babs said to the sound of a civilian's voice on an open comm channel.

As she swung her vehicle out as wide as possible, she narrowly avoided another vehicle on the road, her armored speedster of a car just zipping right past it, a determined look of focus on her masked face. Babs applied more speed, sending her car rocketing forward, as she pushed a button on the console of her display screens. Behind her glass canopy covered cockpit, a silvery metal rotary cannon rose up from a compartment, its multi-barreled arsenal spinning several times, before it selected its chosen weapon.

Babs lined up a shot, and squeezed the trigger, sending a burst of smoke from the silver rotary cannon, as it launched an electric net toward the man who had just deposited those strange obstacles on to the road, the net spreading out, and sizzling with electrical energy bursts, as she meant to cover the back of the vehicle, to block him from dumping more life threatening blocks on to the highway.

Caleb Dykstra has posed:
"I'm following you and willing to help, that already puts me in harm's way", Caleb says. "And so is all of Gotham, if these guys get away with it." The exploits of the Joker have sorta become the stuff of legend in the criminal underworld, even for lowly guys like he used to be.

"I may have a few things that could help disable the vehicles." He pauses. "But it's you guys' call."

Talia al Ghul has posed:
"Definitely not the Batman."

Now that the Nightbird is in full view. Lots of twists and turns and vehicles in her path. Certainly. Has to be the reason. "So Nightwing..." Talia leans to look further up the road and back just as the second mobile of Bat Family origin arrives. Her own vehicle is quite stationary on the high shoulder of the road. Set in a dirt path before a wooden observation deck that gave a wonderful view of some of the landscape that surrounds I250.

"Also not the Batman."

The third vehicle, the one in which Caleb arrives, she doesn't know. "Amir." The driver needn't be told what his part to play in all of this is. He reaches up and grips the seatbelt, then pulls it down across his chest to click into place. The car is dropped into drive and he gingerly pulls the front end of the vehicle out onto the narrow road, directly in the path of the oncoming semi-truck. Will he survive? Who knows. The League are, just now even, across the country fighting with another pair of ninja groups like this is A Bronx Tale. Where the one in the vehicle with Talia is a true believer in the cause. Forfeiture of life is part of the gig.

"Time to make things interesting."

Wally West has posed:
Really makes Flash feel left out, seeing all these supercars coming out here.

But at least he's comforted that he'd beat all of them in a race. Just...you know, don't ask Batman. Or Dick. Or Babs. You know what, lets just let Flash be naturally fast without all these smart people about to outwork him. But, he can't focus about that right now. The convoy is trapped. No room to move. No room to try and evade.

Fish in a barrel.

But, as Nightwing is drifting, as he's driving like the best in the business, Flash - his friend from the Titans, you know, the cool one - is leaping *over* his vehicle and trying to clear the road of Batmobile-crippling obstacles. Thoug hone of them is *exceptionally* sharp. "Ow ow ow! Sharp!" He's bouncing on his feet, holding his hand.

"Rude!"

And he's moving again, this time, trying to get attention.

"HEYA JOKY!"

Wally called, standing on one of the fars. "Your jokes suck!" Hit 'em where it hurts Wally, hit 'em where it hurts.

The Joker has posed:
Aboard the truck, the driver sees that a second Batmobile and the freaking Flash have shown up. In a way this is a relief: the Joker's gang will be far too busy to kill him! "I think we can take it easy, boys!" He says over the intercom.

Two guard signals flash back. The driver's eyes widen, sweat going down his brow. One signal.

The Jokermobile is under siege! Frost is an excellent stunt driver putting a well built machine through its paces, and the Nightbird is slowed down by the obstructions, which lets them get ahead of the game for a minute. The problem is Burt Weston's van is in the way!

"Can I get a close up?!" Burt asks eagerly. Johnny Frost's eyes widen as he tries to keep stable on two tires and a second Batmobile in lip gloss colors shows up to shoot at net at the car. Boffo's ducked back in a minute ago, but the net wraps around tires and sends a brief shockwave through the machine.

"HHHHAAA HA HAAAAAH!" What is probably a recording of the Joker's laugh screams out of the car as it starts to smoke. Boffo tries to kick the net off with a stick, but this is something of a tactical error.

And then the Flash gets rid of the popcorn, and shows up on the right of the Jokermobile.

A window opens, and a short man in a Member's Only jacket and sunglasses is sitting there. Bob, Joker's number one guy. "Catch, Flash." Bob says, throwing a package out of the window. Does Flash catch it or dodge? Consider just what it might be?

If Flash chooses to catch the package, it'll be a brown paper parcel with a clock on the side and, Flash will find, some strange material on it that makes it very difficult to get rid of. If not, we'll work that out next round.

Then a car just drives in front of the massive truck full of cars and everything gets exponentially worse.

The driver screams, and tries to make a tight right turn to keep from crushing the lunatic. The cargo is too heavy: the truck lists to the left, and a shower of sparks explodes over all drivers (And Flash) as the convoy starts skidding along both sides of the road, flailing increasingly out of control as the driver tries to compensate. Burt Weston and his crew, not stunt drivers, are in deadly danger of smashing into the side of the convoy.

"Holy smokes!" The Joker says, sitting down next to the driver. "We could get killed in here!"

The driver looks over, eyes widening at the Clown Prince of Crime, a bit of blood on his suit; Joker takes a moment to look in a personal mirror, fixing his face. "Want me to take over?"

Talia al Ghul has posed:
The sudden shift of the heavy vehicle making an attempt to not crush the sedan that pulled out in front of it is the only thing that prevents Amir from meeting his maker, no doubt. The Semi narrowly misses the front end of the vehicle, but the over compensation in one direction. This lifts it up on 9 wheels. Then in the other direction, so that the other 9 wheels aren't jealous. It's almost certainly going to turn over.

"And we back up."

Talia waves her fingers backwards, sedan in reverse, creeping backwards. "Wait for everyone to pass and pull off. Head towards the interstate. And mind the popcorn in the road." She instructs, watching the chaos go ... well.. chaotic. The particulars don't really matter.

It will make the news.

    Especially if this Burt Weston were to die. Unfortunate, perhaps. But sometimes Eggs need to be cracked for a good omlette.

Amir, playing his part as unobservant New Jersey driver, lays his hand down on the horn. honk honk as the possibility of a major vehicular collision becomes more likely. Civilians.

Gwen Stacy has posed:
"Define 'very' persuasive. You need to understand how much I want to drive this car."

One of those big, pink-rimmed eyelets widens a little more than the other, like a curiously arched brow. And yes, right this moment is probably no time for quips to a mere mortal, but to a Spider, the middle of the chaos _exactly_ the right time for quips.

"Sticking!"

The car swerves, slows a bit, loses some pace with the others, and then it's back on track again with the Flash having cleared at least some of its path.

"Oh, hey! I met that guy!"

Probably not a huge surprise to Dick considering Gwen was actually a 'Prospect' for the Titans for like.. a minute, four year sago, before she quit to focus on living in New York and attending ESU. But, that wasn't even where she met him! It was a rooftop. And it was _super_ fast. Go figure.

"Oh... crap. I have an idea. Forget the ejector seat. Get us behind the van. I'll rope it and we'll drag it to a stop like they do at the rodeo."

Ghost-Spider's crawled half-way out the passenger window before she turns to peek back in at Nightwing.

"Full disclosure, I don't know anything about the rodeo."

Then she's spider-crawling back across the hood, sticking with absolute efficiency until she's wedged herself in against the hood's grill. Butt planted. Feet planted. Good, solid sticking points. Then...

*thwip-thwip*

Web-lines shoot out of both wrists, nabbing the back of Burst Weston's van, tethering the Nightbird to the van with Ghost-Spider serving as a conduit.

"Brakes!" she shouts, trying to keep the van from careening into the semi or being careened into.

Barbara Gordon has posed:
It only took the briefest of glimpses of the Joker for Barbara to zero-in on him quite fully. She had a long standing beef with him, afterall, and over the course of the past decade, the two of them had rarely seen one another. Of course, Babs had spent most of that decade in her wheel chair, back in the Clocktower, and only for the past 3 years had she been back on her feet, and back in a brand new set of strength-assisting armor. She was a very different vigilante, from the one that the Joker had paid a visit to a decade ago, the one he put a bullet in the back of.

Her green eyes had narrowed, and her silver roof-mounted cannon twisted its barrels around, as it picked a new firing option, one that was specifically for the Joker...

As Babs drove her vehicle, minding the turns, and twists it took to keep her from crashing right in to others, or smashing her car against debris on the road, she focused on one of her screens, that lined the shot up via her neural-link connection to her aiming system. Utilizing just her mind to aim her Batmobile cannon, Barbara opened fire on the side of the Joker's car, peppering the vehicle with rounds of stun bullets, little rounds of ammunition that would smash through windows, and hopefully burst electrical blasts against the Clown Prince himself. She wanted him dead, of course, but even she wasn't crazy enough to fire live rounds of actual hot lead at the man here on this dangerous road chase.

Dick Grayson has posed:
This. This is one of the reasons why the Joker is so dangerous. The sheer chaos that seems to follow the man around, whether deliberately engineered or not.

With a little assist from his old friend, Nightwing guides the sleek, black vehicle he drives in amongst those obstructions, turning tight and hard to avoid each one. At least until they begin to clear themselves out of the way, leaving a clear path to once more resume pursuit.

By now, Nightwing has also taken note of the additional vehicles involved in the pursuit, the fact that they aren't alone a small comfort as the chase begins to descend into chaos and confusion.

Again he begins to speed up, begins to rapidly close that distance once more, the engine beneath the hood of that car impossibly loud as it propels the Nightbird forward. Which is when Gwen gets her idea.

He spares only a moment to toss a look her way, to judge if she's certain about what she's going, but short of ramming the back of the vehicle and trying to guide them off the road - and risk making things worse - it's not like he has a lot of options. "If you're sure. Just be careful," he urges, holding the wheel steady, giving her a chance to do her thing.

Admittedly it is probably a lot easier when one can just stick to the car frame, and the dark haired vigilante watches as she clings there, seemingly precariously, before unleashing that burst of webbing. Her shout is barely past her lips before he is doing just that, slamming on the brakes, that powerful momentum of the car brought to an abrupt, screeching halt as he puts them to use as an anchor instead, dragging at the run away van, trying to bring it to an equally abrupt halt and out of the line of immediate danger.

Caleb Dykstra has posed:
Caleb makes a call, and announces it - as nobody seems to have replied to him.

"I'm going i... JESUS!!"

It's a split-second decision as he swerves his car away from the vehicle that just planted itself on the road.

But, gathering his composure, he repeats:

"I'm going in!"

The first thing he does, is moving towards the vehicle where the filming crew is in, matching their speed as he gets to their side. He's not oblivious to what Ghost-Spider is doing, but he decides to do something that he hopes will help make things easier.

"Let's put a stop to these guys ratings!"

From a pannel behind the door, a small cannon comes into view, firing one, two, three disks that attach to the surface of the vehicle...

And *BZZZZZZZTTTT!* *CRACK!* A localized EMP to fry their electronics, including the ignition, which should make the car come to a stop much easier.

Ah, and yes - their camera equipment. Too bad. So sad. Low ratings. Shit emoji, anyways.

Wally West has posed:
"Oh I love catch!"

Flash leans his hand out, catching a strange package that was thrown out of the window. He gives it a little shake. "Huh. Feels heavy." and he looks at it carefully. Only....there's a clock on the outside. "...is this a jack-in-the-box?" Wally questioned nobody in particular, though the material on it makes it....uh...a little difficult to get rid of. And that clock is only counting down.

"Well how the heck did you throw this without it getting stuck?! Ugh." Flash turns his head.

"I gotta take care of this guys! Be back in a Flash."

And because it's a bomb? He's gonna run it all the way out to Gotham Harbour. Should only take him a few minutes. Though his concern is getting the parcel unstuck from his person. Maybe it's attracted to the static electricty between himself and what he was touching? If that's the case...once Flash hits the water, he's going to try and vibrate his molecules to destabilize himself, and hopefully cause the parcel to remove itself from him and land in the water.

The Joker has posed:
Burt Weston is getting GREAT footage!

His van and crew are being forced against the wall of the road, trying to keep from totally crashing into a building or the runaway convoy truck. Burt stares at death through a camera lens.

Ghost Spider leaps out to ensnare the van in webbing and attach it to the Nightbird, adding her own superhuman strength to the situation. Everyone except Burt screams, as Caleb's car fires a disk that fries the electronics on the van and with some effort and advanced driving. The van screeches to a halt.

Burt looks at his camera, empty eyed.

The Jokermobile manages to get the net off, but just in time for Barbara's Batmobile to close in! Johnny Frost's eyes widen as she turns a freaking assault cannon onto the car! The Jokermobile is fundamentally the personal transportation of a mob boss, and is highly resistant to drive bys. It's still full of holes: Boffo gets shot in the gut, stumbling to his knees, and the car shakes under the assault. Bob makes an executive decision, and talks in the radio. "Boss, we're going."

The Jokermobile's tires make an awful SPROING noise, like something out of Speed Racer as four springs explode at the same time, sending the heavily damaged car up in the air and landing with a horrible thump onto an off-road.

Wally is able to get rid of a bomb. For the record, Bob had a pair of special frictionless gloves. Joker designed the sticky bomb to throw at Batman so he'll have to run around with a bomb over his head, so Wally's molecule manipulation lets him get it off quickly enough once he's somewhere safe.

It explodes as soon as Wally gets it off, sending water everywhere. Flash, the truck!

The truck is in a bad way. A man is kicked out of the side of it, his face warped into a rictus grin. "Hmm." Joker says, pulling a few leavers. The trailer of the truck detaches: this is good because it slows down a bit and is easier to stop, but bad because a truck trailer full of some twenty cybertrucks is coming right at Batgirl! Joker feels this is sufficient acknowledgment of her graduation to Batman's gun moll.

"Now, how to get out of here." Joker says, "And figure out who that idiot who drove in front of me was. I was going to sell one of these to Penguin! Probably should've. Gotten my commercial license before I stole a truck this big."

"Ah hell they're getting rid of that crap anyway!" Joker says, snapping his fingers and pulling a weapon out of his utility belt. It's just a brick. Putting it on the truck's accelerator pedal, Joker messes with his suit a little. Does he have something up his sleeve? Can tractor and trailer be stopped before something tragic happens?!

Caleb Dykstra has posed:
Caleb sees the driver being thrown away, and once he looks at the truck, he sees who's at the wheel.

"Joker has the truck!", he announces, speeding up, "Moving in to stop him!"

And, once he reaches the truck's side, he fires the same sort of sticky disks and pulls away from the area. For all he knows, the truck could be filled with bombs, if not worse...

Barbara Gordon has posed:
Barbara snarls when she sees that the Joker's ride was heavily armored too, but of course it was. She adjusted tactics, and switched her cannon, causing the barrel to swirl around again to another option. But, before she is able to launch another attack, the vehicle makes a rather unexpected maneuver that launches it off of the highway, leaving Babs to track it out the side of her glass canopy covered cockpit. She curses under her breath, before she hears an alarm sounding off from one of her monitoring bat-drones, that is flying high in the sky above. Her green eyes shoot forward, and she sees the back of the semi-truck being detached, filled with a lot of rather heavy vehicles, she knows that load is pretty much impervious to attacks.

She slams on the brakes, her rotary cannon launching a heavy duty grapple line out, that snares the highway sign that passes right above them, causing her to have additional turning support, as she yanks hard on her steering yoke, pulling her car in a wide circle, that has it narrowly avoiding being run over by that incoming trailer!

Slamming on the gas, Babs depresses another button on her console, detaching the grapple line, as she applies the forward momentum, her own vehicle ramping up and over the edge of the highway, as she speeds after the Joker-mobile, her drones fanning out above her in the sky, attempting to locate the gettaway vehicle.

Unfortunately, she didn't know the Joker was in the Semi-truck cab, as she had not made it that far up in the convoy. Damn that Joker.

Gwen Stacy has posed:
"I love it when a plan comes together," grunts Ghost-Spider as the newly EMP'd van screeches to a halt and even manages not to roll in the process. Of course, that does leave Burst Weston staring at his camera.

His... dead, also freshly EMP'd camera?

"Pretty sure the words you're looking for are _thanks for saving my life_," she calls out to the man who seems so obsessed with his footage that he didn't even look up to acknowledge the fact he almost died.

But she's not sticking around to teach manners or have an argument about them. With her web-lines dropped, she slides off of the hood of the Nightbird and dashes back around to the passenger side, slipping back in through the open window Dukes of Hazzard style.

"See? Who says Spiders and Alien-Bat-Birds can't coexist?"

Those mask-eyes are grinning again.

"Stupid question, but have you seen Flash? They threw something out at him, and then he was gone..."

Team Mom, trying to make sure everyone's okay before they start counting too many victories, even when she's not all that familiar with the team. At least she could still see Batgirl's car in decent shape... and whatever civilian fired that EMP still looked fine. Which reminds her...

With quick swipe of her wrist, a little holographic screen is projected in front of her, and she scrolls through some settings to get to the general comm frequency.

< "Hey... EMP-guy. Thanks for the assist. Ghost-Spider owes you one." >

She wasn't going to speak for Nightwing, but she does look up at the announcement that Joker, in fact, has the truck... and watches the original driver get kicked out of the door as the truck barrels off. She could get out and run after it, but the Nightbird would be faster.

"Is he... did he _kill_ the driver? I'm beginning to think you were right about this guy," she tells Nightwing from the passenger seat. "He's not your average lunatic."

Dick Grayson has posed:
It generally does not pay to be in the Joker's employ.

It's a sad fact of life that most of his henchmen learn sooner or later. Even from this distance, watching as the man is kicked from the seat, as he lands with a thud as he falls out of the speeding transport it is possible to tell that he is beyond help, that rictus-like grin testiment to anyone that knows Gotham City well.

Behind the wheel of the Nightbird, Nightwing's expression hardens though he resists the urge to immediately speed off, giving Ghost-Spider a chance to slip back inside.

At least they managed to do some good. The filmmaker and his crew are alive and while the man might not be very grateful after losing his footage - and his equipment - he'll live to shoot another day. That's what they do. "Nice job," he says quietly, barely waiting for his passenger to settle himself before that engine revs powerfully once more and the sleek black vehicle with it's bird-like motif on the hood speeds off once more, tires squealing as it tears down the road in pursuit of the Joker.

Past the prone figure on the road way, white, stiff and unmoving.

Gotham villains play for keeps. It's a harsh lesson, but one that anyone that spends any time in Gotham usually finds out for themselves sooner or later. Dick doesn't belabor the point, not right now at least. Instead he focuses on the road ahead, doing his best to make up some of that time, to close some of that distance before the Joker makes his escape once again.

"Don't worry about the Flash," he offers up to Gwen quietly. "Chances are he is already on his way back. Odds are good that was a bomb he caught, so he's just disposing of it safely," he offers up, unconcerned or rather just confident that his old friend can handle it.

He can see Batgirl in pursuit up ahead, he can see Caleb's efforts to bring another cataclysmic failure to the transport as well, bringing it to a screeching stop. But as for them? The Nightbird and the two vigilantes within might be just a little too far behind now to factor in.

"C'mon," he says quietly, rooting for a safe end to this. Preferably one that takes the Joker off the streets.

The Joker has posed:
So the good news: The cybertrucks broke.

The trailer is stopped by a combination of webbing, tow lines, and the impeccable architectural work of the Sprang brothers. The cars go flying out because of the rough stop, smashing into the thankfully abandoned stretch of highway and causing hundreds in thousands of damage in a truly ridiculous pile up.

Caleb uses some kind of emp weapon to stop the truck's rampage. Amir is getting in the way, but the truck isn't trying to avoid him this time. When the engine's disrupted for a minute, physics keeps happening the truck simply careening forward and up and over the ramp Joker'd aimed the behemoth at. Even money if Amir makes it out of the way in time.

The truck goes into the air and sails directly a thankfully underpopulated part of Gotham Bay. Later on, a few GCPD CIA people will insist there is no way Joker wasn't turned to paste by the impact.

But there is no body.