Chapter 181 Daily Life in Arkham (Part 1)

"Name?"

"Philip Best."

"Okay, Jack."

The clown was lying on the hospital bed, and Schiller stood beside the bed with a medical record. He said: "You'd better call out your psychologist personality quickly and describe your symptoms, otherwise I will write it down."

"Untie my right hand, I want to have a cigarette." Jack shook his hair and said. Schiller walked up and untied his right hand that was tied to the armrest of the hospital bed. Jack made a gun gesture with his hand, and then took aim. By Schiller.

Schiller moved a chair, sat down next to his hospital bed, and then found a tape recorder and a blank tape from the cabinet. He put the tape into the tape recorder and pressed the button to start recording.

"Okay, tell me about your life."

Jack curled his lips, glanced at the recorder, then looked at Schiller, and said, "My name is Philip Best, and I am a truck driver serving the Anta Gang..."

Jack rambled on a lot, such as his mortgage and car loan, his going to the supermarket to stock up on weekends, his next door neighbor's fire, etc.

Schiller pressed the recorder and said, "Okay, next one."

Jack looked at him, and he looked at Jack. The two of them stared at each other for a long time, and Schiller said to him: "Why are you looking at me? Make up another one quickly, I will be useful."

Jack raised his head and shook it, rolled his eyes, and muttered a few words imitating Schiller's tone, and then he made up an origin for himself.

In this way, after Schiller asked the clown to make up a dozen origin stories for himself, he took the tape off the tape recorder with satisfaction.

Again, trash is misplaced resources. The origin story that the Joker created for himself is not only true and reasonable, but also rich in details and quite vivid. As long as the background of the era is changed, it can be regarded as a rich character. Use a fake identity.

Schiller has not forgotten that he is in Marvel's Arkham Sanatorium, and there are many agents who have been planted in. This fake identity comes in handy.

Jack turned his body sideways and stretched his head to look at Schiller. His eyes were wide open and he said, "You know what? I hate two kinds of people the most. One is too ordinary people, and the other is people who are very similar to me." people.

"And you, you are obviously a person very similar to me, but you pursue being an ordinary person, but Jack, the most professional psychology master in the world, tells you that you can't do it, hahahahaha!"

Before he finished laughing, Schiller slapped his injured hand with the spine of the notebook. Jack screamed in pain, and then let out a series of crazier laughs. He said, "You were right! I was right." It hits a sore spot! You can never be an ordinary person, hahahahaha!”

Schiller took a deep breath and said: "After today's consultation, you can go to the general ward. Do you know how precious the beds here are? Don't delay me in making money."

"Money? Hahahahaha!" Jack laughed even harder, and the hospital bed began to tremble because of his laughter. After a while, he choked himself and started coughing crazily. Then he reached out and said to Schiller : "Water, thank you."

Schiller didn't hand it to him, and he didn't mind. Instead, he stopped laughing, collapsed on the bed and panted. He said, "That joke is funny, right? If there was a movie theater where you could really buy tickets with popcorn, I would I will definitely buy tickets for a whole week and watch all the movies I haven’t finished yet.”

Suddenly he became serious again, sighed and said: "It's ridiculous that they pursue money, right? What's even more ridiculous is that the money they pursue is no different from popcorn..."

"And the most ridiculous thing is, hahaha..." He started laughing again, making himself tremble with laughter. "The most ridiculous thing is that there is a madman who knows that money is popcorn, but he still pursues it, hahahahaha..."

"Why? Because he is crazy! He thinks... He actually thinks that as long as he pursues fame and wealth like ordinary people, he can become an ordinary person, hahahahahahaha..."

He noticed that Schiller was watching silently. Jack grinned and said, "Why are you so serious? Didn't you smile happily in the theater before?"

"Because the hell joke is funny because it's someone else's hell." Schiller stood up again and said, "Of course it's fun to watch Batman. You think so too, right?"

Jack wiped the tears of laughter with his released hand. He didn't act as crazy as he did in the theater. Instead, he seemed normal, but even weirder.

"To be honest, I didn't expect you guys to be so supportive. I really love it here!"

"You should thank the Court of Owls. The continuous heavy rain they rained has affected the residents here to some extent, and all residents. Even if they are not exposed to the rain, they will inevitably inhale moisture in the air when breathing, so everyone is a little crazy. ”

"I know, of course I know...otherwise why would I tell my plan on TV? I know someone will come, there must be a group of annoying people..." Jack was gritting his teeth one second, and then the next He said in a humble tone: "Oh, no, it's the distinguished audience. Someone will definitely come to see the comedy performance brought by this poor clown..."

"Except for Batman, he didn't want to come. I had to take him there."

"This is what I hate the most about the Court of Owls. They created a kind of rain that can make people crazy, but this rain is only ineffective against Batman, they idiots." Jack said fiercely.

"You're lying again. If this rain really works on Batman, the Court of Owls will definitely be a thousand times worse than it is now."

This chapter is not over, please click on the next page to continue reading!

Jack pouted and whistled twice, as if to cover up his lying behavior. He moved his body so that he could lean on the pillow and said as if he had found a close friend: "Look, you feel the same way, right? Batman actually He is a madman, but he doesn't admit it. If there are any external factors that make him crazy, it would be too boring. "

"Tell me, did he really want to laugh during yesterday's performance?" Jack blinked, his somewhat cloudy eyeballs filled with longing, and his tone became excited again. "I hid in the alley and watched him secretly several times, watching him break the hands and feet of the robbers."

"But he is so serious." Jack complained: "Can't he be happy? Listening to the wails of those robbers, listening to the criminals he most hates and hates begging for mercy in his hands, how could he not What about happiness? If you are happy, why don’t you laugh?”

As long as Jack mentioned Batman, he could talk endlessly, but Schiller was not interested in listening to his crazy words. He tapped the side of his notebook with his pen, and then said: "I also have two kinds of people I hate the most. One is to The kind of people I look for in trouble are those who feel confident after looking for trouble.”

Before Jack could say anything, Schiller continued: "It seems that we happen to be the kind of people that each other hates the most. Since we dislike each other, we should have less contact with each other. Tomorrow you will move to the next ward with Cobot. Let’s live together.”

Jack snorted from his nose and said, "You're such a scholar."

At noon the next day, Schiller had just returned from eating in the cafeteria when he found Jack squatting at the door of the ward crying. He leaned his back against the door frame of the ward, covered his face, and cried very sadly.

Schiller passed by him without looking away. Jack grabbed his white coat and said, "Oh my God! How can there be such a boring person in this world? How can you arrange for me to share a ward with him?" "

He grabbed Schiller's white coat with one hand and refused to let go. He wiped away non-existent tears with one hand and said, "He just told me a joke, but even this joke was extremely boring."

"He actually said he wanted to open a restaurant, you know? And then he actually wanted to build an iceberg in the restaurant, oh my god..."

"I always thought dressing up as a bat was perverted enough, but someone actually wants to dress up as a penguin, penguin, hahahahaha!"

"Doctor, they're all crazy, you have to save me!" Jack began to tremble all over. "I don't want to be around these crazy people!"

Schiller bent down, grabbed his wrist, and pulled his hand off his clothes. He bent down and said to Jack: "First of all, this is a mental hospital. If either you or him are not crazy, then You wouldn’t be here.”

"Secondly, now is not your time to relax. If you dare to run out of the ward again, I will expel Batman from Gotham University and send him to study in Metropolis. You will never see him again."

Jack got up quickly, ran to the hospital bed and lay down, covering him with a quilt. He hummed a song and said: "Little Jack is going to sleep well, hum hum hum... sing a song Lullaby..."

While he closed one eye and pretended to be asleep, he secretly opened the other eye to peek at Schiller's reaction.

Copot next to him sighed deeply. He looked at Schiller at the door and said, "Doctor, I suggest you move him to the next ward."

He pointed at the wall behind him with his thumb and said, "Wens Yin must have something in common with him."

"More importantly, if this lunatic stays here any longer, I will definitely beat him."

"Okay, he will go live with Vince Yin tomorrow."

The next day, Schiller came back from dinner at noon. He found that Jack had somehow climbed onto the observation window high on the wall. He was riding on the observation window, moving his body awkwardly, as if he wanted to turn over.

Before Schiller could ask what was going on, Vince Yin's roar came from inside: "You actually like those musical comedies!! And you even insult classicism!! I really misjudged you, those new operas are completely Blasphemy to the opera!”

"You are crazy!" Jack shouted while riding on the observation window, waving his fists: "Those Baroque operas are old stuff! Monteverdi is complete rubbish! They don't understand humor at all!"

As he spoke, he shook his head and learned a few lines of singing. The dry voice combined with the weird singing method was all emotion and no technique.

From high up in the observation window, he spat all over the famous baroque and classical opera singers, and Vince Yin was so angry that he threw a pillow at him.

Apart from anything else, Vince Yin was quite strong. He stood underneath and hit Jack's face hard with a pillow. Jack's arm was already injured and he couldn't hold on to the wall firmly, so he fell directly into the ward. Outside, it fell in front of Schiller.

He was still very angry and wanted to get up and rush back to the ward to continue arguing with Vince Yin. Schiller grabbed his clothes and said, "Do you want to go back and get beaten? Don't you really think you can?" Pass him?"

Jack was so angry that he said loudly: "He doesn't understand music at all, that idiot! Classical opera is just nonsense, can you imagine? There are still old-fashioned people who like those things now, only comic operas and musicals That’s interesting!”

Yin Wens leaned out of the door frame and shouted, "You are the one who has no taste! You damn lunatic!"

"You are the lunatic!"

Schiller stood by speechless, firstly because he didn't know much about opera, and secondly because he didn't know much about lunatics either.