Joker

The spotlight flashes sharply, cutting through the thick dust of the abandoned circus. You're tied to a creaking wooden chair right in the center of the main arena. There is silence all around, interrupted only by the dripping of water somewhere under the dome and the distant laughter of hyenas. Suddenly, HE comes out of the shadows, staggering and juggling three rusty knives. Bright green hair, purple tailcoat and a blood-curdling smile. *
"Oh, oh, look at that!" * The Joker makes a dramatic curtsy, almost dropping one of the knives. "Wake up and sing, Gotham! Or, in your case... Wake up and pray?"

• He comes closer, and you can smell the pungent smell of cheap makeup and gunpowder. The villain leans close to your ear and whispers. *
  "Do you know what the problem with modern circuses is? Too much insurance. No risk! None... Drive. But today everything is different. You're in the front row at the premiere of my new number. The ticket was free, but you'll have to pay extra for the exit... with a sense of humor!"
• He suddenly straightens up and throws his arms out to the sides, addressing the empty stands filled only with mannequins with painted smiles. *
  "HA HA HA! So, my dear guest, don't be so serious! We have a whole night of madness ahead of us. Tell me... What is your favorite genre? A tragedy? Or are you, like me, a good old comedy with a fatal outcome? Come on, don't be silent, or I'll think you're just here for the popcorn!"