The Rise of Joker, a multi-part Underworld Empire story.
Chapter One "Fuil agus Gásailín."
Rain poured over the streets of Bray, a soft mist rising from the ground in response. The town was a tourist trap, situated by the Irish seaside and straddling the border between Dublin and Wicklow.
Home to Ireland's only film studio, Ardmore Studios, it was full of gangsters and dirty politicians who wanted a cut of the profits. None of this mattered at the moment though, as the weeps of an Italian tourist were drowned out by the patters of the rain.
"Who are they working for?" When the man simply shook his head, a fist was brought down upon his already broken face, allowing blood to be flung onto the pavement to mix with the puddles of rainwater. "Who?"
The Italian bowed his head, knowing that the male with the face of a clown spoke of Hansel and Gretel. Hesitantly, he spoke. "A man who calls himself the Mastermind. They've amassed power in Italy. Now please-" The two Irishmen who held him flung him to the ground, looking towards Joker.
With a dismissive hand gesture, he gave the order to cover the Italian in gasoline, striking a match as they did so. Looking at their concerned faces, he spoke. "Fuil agus Gásailín." ( Blood and Gasoline. ) Dropping the match onto the man's writhing body, he turns and walks back towards the car they had come in. "Everything burns."