Batman: Arkham City

[Batman is tied up to a chair atop Joker's mill; Harley is up close to him, trying to take a peek under his mask]

The Joker: Get *back* here, Harley.

[Joker coughs]

Harley Quinn: Aw, but I wanna know who he is, sweetie!

The Joker: No one's who you think they are, my dear. Why spoil the fun?

Batman: It was all a lie. There's nothing wrong with you.

The Joker: Nice of you to say, but you of all people should know... there's plenty wrong with me!

[He comes out of the shadows with a big smile. His face is covered with boils and his right eye is filled with blood]

The Joker: [holds up bottle of blood] Take my blood, for example. I wish somebody would. This stuff is killing me!

Batman: Why should I care?

The Joker: Because, now... you have a teeny little bit of me in you too, Bats!

[Batman dramatically looks to his left and sees he's hooked up to a machine that injects the Joker's blood into him]

The Joker: Oh, c'mon. Don't tell me it's not what you always wanted. Look, we're running out of time, I need your help. I nearly had a cure; it was so close and then it was taken from me.

Batman: So we both die. I'm fine with that.

The Joker: Are you? Imagine... sucking down that last breath, knowing Gotham is doing the same.

Batman: What are you talking about?

The Joker: Oh, didn't I say?

[hops onto Batman's lap]

The Joker: I've spent weeks shipping samples of my blood to emergency rooms all over the city.

Batman: So that's Protocol 10: poison Gotham. I expected more

The Joker: Protocol 10?

[dramatic gasp]

The Joker: Never heard of it.

[leans into Batman's ear]

The Joker: Hold tight.

[Batman, still strapped into the wheelchair, bursts out of one of the mill's top windows]

The Joker: I'll be in touch!