When the menace known as the Joker wreaks havoc and chaos on the people of Gotham, Batman must accept one of the greatest psychological and physical tests of his ability to fight injustice.
What were you trying to prove? That deep down, everyone's as ugly as you? You're alone.
— Speaking of which, you know how I got these scars?
— No, but I know how you got these.
— That was a very brave thing you did.
— Trying to catch the light?
"Freak." Why don't we cut you up into little pieces... and feed you to your pooches? And then we'll see how loyal a hungry dog really is.
— Let's wind the clocks back a year. These cops and lawyers wouldn't dare cross any of you. I mean, what happened? Did your balls drop off? Hm? You see, a guy like me...
— A freak.
— Damn right. A guy like me... Look, listen. I know why you choose to have your little, ahem... group-therapy sessions in broad daylight. I know why you're afraid to go out at night. The Batman. See, Batman has shown Gotham your true colors, unfortunately. Dent, he's just the beginning. And as for the television's so-called plan... Batman has no jurisdiction. He'll find him and make him squeal. I know the squealers when I see them... and...
— What do you propose?
— It's simple. We, uh, kill the Batman.
— How much you want?
— Uh, half.
— You're crazy.
— No, I'm not. No, I'm not. If we don't deal with this now... soon little Gambol here won't be able to get a nickel for his grandma.
How about a magic trick? I'm gonna make this pencil disappear. Ta-da! It's... It's gone.
I don't wanna kill you. What would I do without you? Go back to ripping off Mob dealers? No, no. No. No, you... You complete me.
— What gives you the right? What's the difference between you and me?
— I'm not wearing hockey pads.
