• Published 27th Jul 2015
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To Cure Insanity Please Insert Ponies - No One and Nobody

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Chapter 7: The Last Straw

Chapter 7: The Last Straw

Pinkie was worried as Batman picked her and the rest of them up that night to go to Arkham. Fluttershy was missing, and Pinkie hadn’t seen her all day. Twilight told her not to worry about her since she was probably with Croc, and Croc would never hurt her. Pinkie knew that her Pinkie Sense would let her know if any of her friends were ever in danger, however she was still worried.

When they got to Arkham, Batman started handing out the ponies.

Most of the other ponies as they had begun helping their new friends got slowly larger every night. They shrank when Batman carried them around or put them in their cells but whenever they were helping their friends they were growing steadily as the inmates at Arkham progressed. Penguin had been getting lessons from a reasonably sized Rarity, and Croc had even given Fluttershy a hug. However Pinkie was still pretty small.

She watched as Batman tossed Derpy into her cell and she expanded automatically to full size.

“Muffin?” she said, handing one to her new friend.

As they approached Croc’s cell they could hear someone crying.

“Croc, what’s wrong?” asked Batman, looking into the cell.

Croc looked up at him, his eyes were red from crying and he looked exhausted. As he started to speak it was apparent that he was on drugs.

“Heez taken ‘er. You gotta do sumptin’. I already tried breakin’ out, but the docters put a stop ta that.”

“Who has taken her?” asked Batman.

Croc shakily held up a small wad of paper, mud, and string in the crude shape of a pony.

“He switched her after we had our free time. Hee’z got her in hiz cell. You gotta save ‘er.”

After he had said this Croc finally succumbed to the drugs in his system and keeled over onto the ground.

Pinkie stuck her head out of Batman’s utility belt as laugher echoed down the hallway.

She felt her blood run cold.

“Come and play,” said the Joker from his cell, “I’ve already got one of your little ponies. Who’s in charge now?”

Everyone cell in the hallway went dead silent.

“That’s right,” said the Joker, chuckling, “While all you sissies have been making friends I’m the only one who sees the truth; I’m the only one of you lily-livered slackers who has the gumption to do what needs to be done. Hey Pinkie Pie, want to see how your fiend is doing?”

Batman stepped up to Joker’s cell and peered in. There stood Joker his right hand grasping Fluttershy while his left fingers twitched near her neck.

“Step aside Batman. I’m not interested in you. I want to talk to that pink one who thinks she can cure me.”

Pinkie hopped up onto Joker’s door and looked in. Joker smiled.

“Hello there little miss psychiatrist. So you thought that you could cure me. Me the Clown Prince of Crime! Look upon what your little therapy sessions have wrought, and tell me... Was it worth it? I’m doing to snap your friend’s neck unless you decide that I’m better off crazy.”

Batman’s fists clenched and Pinkie’s eyes narrowed as Fluttershy whimpered and the Joker continued.

“I mean, after all, what’s more important saving one of your precious ponies friends... or curing me?”

Batman’s hand moved towards the Batarangs in his utility belt but froze as a loud voice resounded through his ears.


Batman saw Celestia’s horn glow out of the corner of his eye and watched as Joker’s body was surrounded by a glowing yellow field.

He dropped Fluttershy to the ground and shot up, headfirst, into the ceiling.

Fluttershy flew quickly out of the cell and Joker landed on the floor with a resounding headache.

Pinkie Pie smiled and sighed as Fluttershy flew safely out of the cell.

Then her face fell.

Her hair deflated, her pupils dilated to twin specks and Batman was positive that her pink color darkened.

Dropping into Joker’s cell she advanced on him saying, “Fluttershy! You would hurt poor… little… Fluttershy?! REALLY?!?! That’s so low I don’t even know what to say! Batman take the rest of the ponies to see their friends I’ve got some psychiatry to do.”

Batman left the cell behind and pulled Rarity out of his utility belt.

Pinkie watched him leave then her gaze slowly shifted to the wall to the right of the Joker who was huddled in a corning whimpering-

“Go narrate somewhere else. This part of the story isn’t going to be G-rated.”

Batman stood outside of Penguins cell handing Rarity to him. They were all looking at Joker’s cell wondering what kind of things were going on inside. The cell was dead silent.

“I never thought I’d pity him,” said Penguin, shaking his head.

“Me neither,” said Batman under his breath.

Batman handed out the rest of the ponies and left Arkham. As he drove back to the Batcave he wondered if the Joker would be ok. He couldn’t get that look on Pinkie’s face out of his mind.

“He’ll be fine,” said Celestia, “My student Twilight has nothing but good things to say about Pinkie.”

“But that look on her face. What if she tries to take revenge on him?”

“Revenge? I don’t think so. Avenge maybe. But answer me this, what would be the most horrible thing that Pinkie could do to him? What could possibly bring him the most pain imaginable?”

Batman looked at her as he pulled into the cave and said, “Fracture his femur?”

Celestia raised an eyebrow and said, “Sanity. Think about it. Only then would he be able to comprehend the pain and suffering he’s caused. Only then would he have to put in the effort to change his image. Only then would he appreciate everything he’s been missing in life.”

Alfred was rather surprised when he came down to the Batcave the next days later to tidy up after Bruce’s nocturnal wanderings. Bruce was lying there in his chair sleeping like a log. He was wearing all his costume except for his mask, which was draped over the back of the chair as he snored lightly.

As Alfred dusted off the console he glanced at Bruce and found that he was wearing a calm smile as he slept. Alfred raised an eyebrow but stayed silent and kept dusting.

While he was cleaning some of the larger trophies he noticed that the Batcave seemed brighter than usual.

There was the roar of an engine and Robin drove in after a long night of patrolling.

“Honestly,” said Alfred, “How do you intend to study for your chemistry test this week if you’re out till all hours of the night?”

Dick removed his helmet and grinned, “It’s ok Alfred I glanced at some of the chemistry exhibits while I was chasing Catwoman through the museum. A little studying later today, a quick power nap, and I’ll be fine. Hey, does the cave seem brighter to you?”

“I did notice that Master Dick,” said Alfred, opening a glass case and dusting off Mr. Freeze’s ice gun, “What would you surmise to be the cause?”

“I don’t know,” said Dick, looking around, “Hey Bruce.”

Bruce opened his eyes and looked over at Dick, “What is it Robin.”

“Does the cave seem… different to you?”

“Maybe a little brighter, but I wouldn’t call that a problem. Alfred what time is it?”

“Ten after eight, sir.”

“Perfect I’ve got a golf game scheduled for nine with one of the doctors at Arkham.”

“How are things going there?” asked Dick, taking off his mask and stretching.

“Things should start turning around pretty soon,” said Bruce, removing his cape and cowl and donning a light gray cashmere sweater.

“I’ll bring the car around at eleven-thirty, sir.”

“Thank you Alfred. Although I think our game might last a little longer than that.”

“Expecting a good deal of conversation, sir?”

“That’s what I’m hoping for.”

Joker let out a mournful scream from his parched throat and slouched in the corner.

Pinkie slowly lowered herself onto four hooves again and approached the shuddering heap of tattered humanity. When she was directly in front of him she could see that he was crying.

“All I ever wanted to do was make people happy,” he said in a quiet whisper.

“I win,” said Pinkie, narrowing her eyes and smiling.

“Yes. Yes you have,” said Joker, “Thank you.”

Pinkie smiled, wrapped her hooves around the poor man and let him weep freely into her mane. Neither of them knew how long the stayed like that. But when Pinkie let go and looked down she didn’t recognize the man who was holding her.

“Will you be ok?” she asked, looking into his eyes, “I know you probably have a lot weighing on your conscience.”

“I’ll be fine. Thank you Pinkie Pie. I owe my sanity to you. Now I can start trying to rebuild my life.”

“You think you can?”

“I can try. Before you came along I couldn’t even do that.” 

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