"My old quiet Bat friend hasn't been talking to me much anyway," he said, smiling, a benign, 'what can you do?' expression on his face. It was insane, of course, like most things The Joker did--the premise of them having a calm conversation while Remy was tied to a chair.
"I did indeed," he said, his smile widening. "We've got a smart one, here! And I've found everything just fine. Thanks so much for asking." He sat up, touching his heart with a hand. "Your kindness...it just gets me here," he said, nearly swooning with gratitude. "All I ever needed was a helping hand. A kind word. You know, people like me aren't born. We're made. Made by society."
He dropped the act and cackled. "But I expect you know more about the...the injustices of society than most people." He pulled a card from his pocket--a Joker card--and held it in front of his face. "Now, from what people tell me...and, I mean, this could just be hearsay but from what I hear your kind isn't too well-liked, where you're from. Kinda like this throwaway card we were discussing. When somebody gets dealt it, they just want it"--he tossed the card with two fingers--"off their hands."