A little later, there is an odd repeated thunking noise heard from the office, and a little bit after that, the door opens and the Joker climbs back down, sitting on the lower half of the steps. He smiles as if nothing has happened, though his makeup is obviously more smeared across his forehead. "How's it coming? Funny how useful blank cards are...so hard to just get Jokers, so I started printing my own, years ago." He idly pulls one out and flicks at it.
"Do you know," he offers, "what they do with people like me, who prove resistant to their 'standard' methods of treatment?" His eyes are sharp. "Whom they are convinced are especially wrong?"