I was walking through a downtown. The city was unidentified, and the day (for day it was) was brisk and well-lit.

I passed a bus shelter and proceeded up a concrete sidewalk on a slight incline past an official-looking edifice: a university, perhaps, or a bank, or a government building. I paused when The Joker came up to my elbow. Of all the ones there are in the annals of print and celluloid, this one was Cesar Romero...wearing Jack Nicholson's costume.

Of a sudden, I became utterly drained of energy, experiencing a sensation of exhaustion so profound as to be iconic. I was not alone: I was aware that the same sensation gripped everyone in the city simultaneously, as we all sank to one knee and showed the same inability to raise our heads.

The experience was temporary, however. After a moment, we stood and continued on our business. Looking down to the level of the cross street, I saw that the foot traffic contained at least three more Jokers, who had also succumbed to the inexplicable drain.

The Joker who had been standing next to me nodded and walked off to the left, calling for a staff meeting. The city became a building, laid out in a dingy, once-antiseptic manner like an old hospital or elementary school. I walked in the direction opposite the one that The Joker had taken and entered a room with voices; being one of the henchmen, I was going to attend the meeting. The voices, which belonged to a small number of rather nondescript individuals of various types and sexes, engaging in water-cooler-style gossip, which came to an awkward halt as I entered.

I was told that I shouldn't be in there, since the meeting was only for certain of the gang. I made perfunctory apologies with the usual palms-out arm wave to ward off animosity, and made my exit through the other door of the room--this was The Joker we were contending with, after all, and someone with that sort of psychosis will very definitely kill for less. Painfully, messily, and with extreme prejudice.

I walked around a corner (the hallways and rooms of this building were oddly connected, but connected nonetheless) and found a long low chaise longue upholstered in shiny dark mulberry vinyl.
The Joker who had been standing next to me earlier walked past and gave me a contemplative, sidelong look through the hallway door as a I lay down on the couch and

woke up.