Jonathan sat rigidly in his office at Arkham Asylum, willing the clock to move faster. In fifteen minutes his shift would end and he could escape before anyone had a chance to acknowledge his impending birthday. The fiasco Bruce Wayne had orchestrated last year was still fresh in his mind.
As soon as the clock struck 5:00, Jonathan hastily gathered his notes and coat. He had nearly made it to the staff exit when a voice spoke behind him.
"Going somewhere, Dr. Crane?"
Jonathan cringed and turned to see Warden Sharp standing there with his arms crossed, glancing pointedly at his watch.
"Just heading home for the day, Warden," Jonathan replied briskly. "Now if you'll excuse me..."
But Sharp stepped directly into his path. "I'm afraid not. I need you to go to the common room and check on some inmates exhibiting strange behavior. Shouldn't take more than an hour or so."
Clenching his jaw, Jonathan had no choice but to obey or draw further suspicion. He tossed his coat and briefcase back into his office then stormed down the hall. This was incredibly inconvenient and likely pointless busy work just to detain him longer.
As Jonathan approached the common room, an ominous silence hung in the air. He cautiously peered through the window, squinting into the darkness but unable to make out much. Apprehension trickled down his spine as he slowly pushed open the door, wondering what on earth could be going on in the pitch-black room.
He took a few steps inside, one hand trailing along the wall searching for the light switch. His shoes scuffed loudly against the floor tiles, the sound unnervingly loud in the dead quiet. Just as his fingers brushed the plastic switch, he heard the faintest rustle toward the back of the room. Jonathan froze, pulse quickening.
"Hello?" he called out tentatively. "Is someone there?"
Silence.
Unease prickling his skin, Jonathan flicked on the lights. As soon as illumination flooded the room, a chorus of voices suddenly erupted with a deafening, "SURPRISE!"
Jonathan leapt back with a startled yell, shock morphing to horror as his eyes adjusted to the brightly decorated space now swarming with familiar faces. He took in the room, transformed to resemble the children's show Blue's Clues.
There were arts and crafts stations, a giant replica thinking chair, blue paw prints snaking across the floors and walls...even images of the cartoon dog Blue and pals like Shovel, Pail, Magenta, and Tickety Tock staring cheerily back at him.
Jonathan stood rigid, eye twitching behind his glasses as he scanned the bizarre, chaotic scene before him. Laughter rang out around the room at his dumbstruck expression.
"What's wrong, Johnny boy?" The Joker called out mockingly from amongst the crowd. "You look like you've seen a ghost!"
More laughter followed as the cast of rogues and Arkham staff members watched him eagerly, seeming to relish his shock and dismay. Jonathan noticed Edward Nygma and Jervis Tetch exchanging amused glances while Poison Ivy and a few of the guards failed to suppress smiles behind their hands.
Jonathan clenched his jaw, willing his nerves to settle. Clearly, these lunatics had been planning this spectacle for some time if they had managed to decorate an entire common room and gather so many co-conspirators.
"Don'tcha like your party, birthday boy?" Harley Quinn chimed in with a dramatic pout.
Jonathan's jaw worked soundlessly before he managed to sputter out, "How did you— I never— this is completely inappropriate! I'll see you all written up and thrown in solitary for this stunt!"
This only made them laugh harder.
"We got special permission from Warden Sharp for your party," Edward smirked.
"It was his splendid idea!" Jervis piped up.
Jonathan silently vowed vengeance against the traitorous warden.
"Well don't just stand there, birthday boy! Come join your celebration!" Poison Ivy said as she beckoned him inside.
Reluctantly leaving the safety of the doorway, Jonathan entered as the others converged upon him with unnerving grins. He folded his arms defensively. "I don't know what nonsense you all have planned, but I want no part of it. I'm going home."
With that, Jonathan turned to leave, but found his path blocked by Bane and Harley.
"Oh no ya don't!" Harley scolded playfully. "Not after we went through all this trouble to plan your party!"
They grabbed his arms, marched him over to the giant replica thinking chair, and forced him to sit. Jonathan sank into the plush seat with as much dignity as he could muster, glaring indignantly around at the circle of giggling rogues.
At that moment, the Joker walked over to the giant mailbox by the chair, singing loudly and off-key, "We just got a letter, we just got a letter, we just got a letter, wonder who it's from?"
He opened the lid and pulled out an oversized envelope. On the front was a blue paw print and the name "Jonathan" written in crayon.
"Why, it's a letter from our friend Blue!" continued Joker.
He cleared his throat dramatically and read aloud in an exaggerated, cartoonish voice:
Dear Jonathan,
I heard it was your birthday so me and all my friends wanted to throw you a super fun party! We sent you this letter to start an exciting game of Blue's Clues. The rules are:
Find the paw print clues I left for you.
Draw them in your handy dandy notebook.
Sit in the thinking chair and think REAL hard to figure out the surprise!
Good luck playing Blue's Clues to find your birthday surprise!
Love,
Blue & Friends
Joker then shoved a spiral notebook and crayon at the unimpressed Jonathan.
"Alright birthday boy, you know the drill! Get sleuthin' to find that first paw print clue!" He waved his hands excitedly.
Rolling his eyes, Jonathan flipped open the notebook with an exaggerated sigh. The sooner he played their stupid game, the sooner he could go home and scrub this nightmare from his memory.
"Alright, let's get this over with," he grumbled, rising from the chair. "Where's this first clue?"
The gathered rogues and staff members watched in anticipation as Jonathan began halfheartedly searching around the room. He scanned the decorations and cardboard cutouts of the show's characters without success.
"You're getting warmer..." Edward taunted in a singsong voice.
Jonathan shot him an irritated scowl before continuing his search. He sifted halfheartedly through the arts and craft supplies strewn across the table - scraps of construction paper, jars of glitter and paint, fuzzy pom poms glued to Popsicle sticks. But no clues presented themselves amongst the craft chaos.
With a huff, Jonathan moved to a pile of boxes in the back of the room. Stuck in the corner, he noticed a Polaroid camera with a blue paw print sticker.
"Oh very creative hiding place," he muttered sarcastically, picking up the camera.
"Hooray, he found the first clue!" Edward cheered mockingly.
"Shut up, Nygma," Jonathan snapped, resisting the urge to smack the grin off his face. He quickly sketched the clue in his notebook.
"Is that supposed to be a camera?” Harley jeered, peering over his shoulder at the scribbled drawing. "My three-year-old cousin can draw better than that!"
"With art skills like that, no wonder he became a psychiatrist," Edward snickered.
Jonathan scowled, snapping the notebook shut and angling away from their unwanted commentary.
He scanned the room again until he spotted a can of whipped cream with a paw print sticker sitting on the snack table. With an irritated sigh, Jonathan strode over and picked up the can, examining his next clue.
What could whipped cream possibly have to do with this absurd charade? Jonathan wondered as he sketched the clue in his notebook. Clearly, these morons were toying with him.
Harley giggled as she caught a glimpse of his whipped cream sketch. "And I thought the camera was bad!"
Jonathan’s eye twitched as the rest of the rogues and staff members chuckled, amused at his growing annoyance.
"Only one more to go," Jonathan muttered.
He searched the room again for the final clue until he spotted a pie dish sitting on a shelf with a paw print sticker. Sighing heavily, Jonathan quickly sketched the final clue in his notebook.
"Alright, that’s all of them," he intoned, snapping the notebook shut. "Now if we're finished with this nonsense..."
"Not so fast!" Joker interrupted with a dramatic wag of his finger. "First comes the clues, then comes the thinking chair! Isn't that right guys?"
The gathered crowd cheered in response. Jonathan groaned internally.
"Have a seat right over here, Johnny boy," Joker continued, ushering him over toward the oversized red chair. "Time to put that big brain of yours to work!"
Resisting the urge to roll his eyes for the dozenth time, Jonathan reluctantly plodded over and sank into the chair. He sat rigidly, hands clenched around his notebook of ludicrous clues.
Harley leaned down with her hands braced on her knees. "Okay birthday boy, it's time to think! So...what was Blue trying to tell ya?"
Jonathan stared dully back at her grinning face, then around at the watching crowd. They were all clearly expecting him to participate further in this ridiculous charade.
Heaving a weighty sigh, Jonathan slouched defeatedly in the chair. "Fine. Let's analyze the clues," he growled.
He reopened his notebook with overdramatic concentration. "The first clue was a camera...second, whipped cream..." Jonathan tapped his chin pensively with the crayon. "And third, a pie dish..."
He sat in mock thought for several moments as the costumed villains and Arkham staff waited in anticipation, barely contained grins on their faces.
"Well, obviously these nonsensical clues somehow indicate you idiots plan to smash a pie topped with whipped cream into my face...which you intend to document on camera for humiliation purposes," Jonathan finally asserted, glaring around at them all.
Raucous laughter filled the room.
"He figured it out! He figured it out!" Jervis squealed as he jumped up and down.
Several others mockingly clapped and cheered.
"Congratulations, birthday boy!" the Joker swooped a bow. "You successfully won Blue's Clues and earned your special surprise!"
Joker grabbed the pie dish and can of whipped cream. While Harley fetched the Polaroid camera, he proceeded to pile the dish high with a mound of fluffy white cream.
By the time he'd finished, Harley had bounded back wielding the camera. "Ready when you are, Mistah J!" Harley trilled, bouncing excitedly on her heels. "Nail 'im good!"
"You wouldn't dare-" Jonathan started, but was cut off by the pie dish slamming into his face with a wet squelch. Thick cream instantly coated his glasses, obscuring his vision. He sputtered in shock, wiping blobs of cream from his mouth and nose.
The room exploded with laughter and flashing camera pops. Jonathan scrambled to peel the cream-covered glasses from his face, blinking blindly. As his vision cleared, he made out the blurry shapes of the villains pointing and cackling at his humiliation.
"Bullseye!" Harley cheered. "Ooh, I can't wait to hang this picture on my wall!"
"Delightful shot! Simply delightful!" Jervis wheezed out between giggles.
"I do hope copies will be made available," Edward snarked.
Jonathan's face burned crimson with rage beneath the dripping whipped cream. His fists clenched at his sides, shoulders taut. "You will all pay dearly for this relentless psychological torment," he shouted. "I will rain terror unlike anything--"
"Now, now, Jonathan..." Warden Sharp interrupted, holding up a hand. "There’s no need for threats. It was all in good fun..."
This elicited another round of obnoxious guffawing from the surrounding rogues and staff.
"You call this fun?!" Jonathan sputtered, wiping globs of cream from his face. "You allow these lunatics to ambush me, force me to participate in childish games, then assault me with pies for their own warped enjoyment!" His voice rose to an indignant shriek.
"Ah lighten up, would ya Johnny boy?" Joker chuckled from the crowd. "It was just a harmless prank."
"We put so much effort into your party too..." Harley pouted dramatically.
Outraged, Jonathan threw down his notebook and stormed furiously from the room. Their uproarious laughter echoed down the hall in his wake.
Jonathan slipped into a bathroom to clean off the remaining globs of whipped cream. His hands shook with anger and humiliation as he furiously scraped and scrubbed at the stubborn residue on his suit.
Jonathan plotted his revenge as he drove home. All it would take was one small tweak to his latest fear toxin formula...soon he'd have those imbeciles begging for mercy at his feet.
He worked furtively into the night, a half smile playing on his lips as the plan took shape. By dawn he stood outside the asylum, aerosol canisters loaded with his newest nightmare-inducing concoction. A low, sinister chuckle escaped him as he secured his mask, ready to deliver some long-awaited retribution.
As the morning shift began, he unleashed the first choking clouds of noxious green gas into the intake vents. Soon those fools would truly comprehend fear - courtesy of the one and only Scarecrow!
