The Document of Incidents Chapter 72

"Can you imagine life in Arkham?" The Joker asked while standing in front of the camera. His green hair and purple suit are immaculately groomed, and his attitude is serious. But sitting next to him on the shabby sofa was a frightened man, with tape on his lips and his body tied up with ropes.

"It's dark, damp, and smells fishy. A group of people are fighting every day. There are restraint belts and guards with electric batons everywhere." The clown said seriously, "Never mind, these are not important things. I want to accuse It's my doctor, Marlon Swinson."

The clown pushed the sofa, and the tied man was pushed in front of the camera along with the sofa. Fear filled his wide-open gray-blue eyes, and the muscles on his face trembled. He wanted to cry and scream. But his mouth was blocked, so he could only make a "wuwu" sound.

"You've been in Arkham for fifteen years. It's a long time, isn't it? It's been longer than me." The clown rubbed Dr. Swenson's short, pale hair with his hands, as if touching a small animal. The tone was soft but dangerous: "But did Sharp hire you just to prescribe some Risperidone with added ingredients? I have never heard of such a treatment."

Swinson shook his head desperately and tried hard to explain, but the clown pressed his head to prevent him from moving. His fingers pressed firmly on Swenson's head, forcing him to face the camera: "In exchange for courtesy, , I also added some 'material' to you, Oh-oh, don't always put a sullen face on me, smile, let the Lennox know that you are waiting for him. "