Ah-ah-ah-ahem. Look alive, wage slaves. Presenting that caliph of clowns, that mogul of mountebanks, the one and only Joker.
[The Joker enters, laughing ]
Great Scott!
Actually, I'm Irish. Good morning, Mister, err, [looks at his desk's name plate] Francis. Please allow me to introduce my associates. Miss Quinn.
Enchante.
And Messrs, uh... oh, their names escape me for the moment. No matter! We gentlemen of business have arrangements to discuss.
A... Arrangements?
[drops a Joker Fish onto his desk] For my fish, of course. This has all been worked out far in advance, Francis. You are merely the last tiny cog in my grand design. So don't speak to me again, 'kay? Now, what is everyone in town talking about?
Err... your fish?
[smacks him with the fish] I TOLD YOU NOT TO SPEAK!
[sniffs Francis] Ooh, fish stink-a-roony. [sprays him with a substance from a perfume bottle, making him cough] All better.
As I was saying, since every fish in Gotham now bares my famous and frankly fabulous face, I should be getting a profit from every fish product sold. [one of his thugs pours out a pile of products] Let's say a nickel per fish sandwich, fifty cents for sardines - millions of dollars a day to finance my happily hedonistic lifestyle. So which of your tedious copyright forms do I fill out first? You may speak now.
No one can copyright fish. They're a natural resource.
But they share my unique face. Colonel What's-His-Name has chickens, and they don't even have moustaches.
I can't help it, it's the law.
Oh! Trying to cheat the Joker, are ya? Well, we'll see who has the last laugh. You have until midnight to change your mind, Francis, or you'll be the poorest fish of all! [leaves laughing, with his thugs following]
[blows Francis a kiss as she follows] Buh-bye.
He's crazy.
