The Joker's world suddenly became very, very white. Far, far too white. A thick, heavy funk in the air as ghostly and dead as the caked on fright makeup plastered on his scarred face. "No, no, no!!!" Joker shouted in annoyance, smashing down the bullhorn in frustrated anger, again and again, until in a matter of seconds the antique relic was a sad bit of crushed tin jammed up against the now infinitely worst for wear dashboard. Literally jumping up to quite physically jam feet down on the old worn brakes the Joker in the depths of a truly inspiring rage cycle completely forgot the most basic fact of clown cars and slammed the top of his sizable frame bodily against the car's roof. He'd only succeeded in getting himself wedged against the accelerator and Joker knew the amusement mile better than most any other place on Earth... Accelerating was NOT what he wanted to be doing right now. He could sense it preternaturally in his bones, a chill as if the stagnant waters of Gotham Harbor were already choking him with icy fingers. More for the effect than anything else Joker shouted, "no, no, no!!!" thrice more as with a shudder and a bump he felt the little car, his body precariously lumped in a ludicrous upside down L in the front seat, leave the rickety wooden slats of the docks and take some measure of flight. Time seemed to freeze curiously for his lunatic mind as in what felt exactly like they microseconds they were the world suddenly became jarringly cold and wet and with the thrust of impact, very black and dark, as trapped as Joker was, his head slammed blindingly against the glass of the car, shattering it and sending him spitting out bloodied and unconscious into the dark, filthy harbor waters.