This may sound like a moot question to ask, but do we place what we write here in the comments?

Fun contest Scott. Traveling all day tomorrow, but if I come up with something creative, I'll give it a shot.

Thanks for the pointer to the thread on Reddit. That was helpful. I'm going with the observation that the Joker tailored his story to each audience, and at this point, his audience is Batman. Just past this point after Batman pulls him back up on the safety line (or Batrope—yeah, I'm a child of the 60s), the Joker plays his hand by saying "You didn't think I'd risk the battle for Gotham's soul in a fist fight with you?" and tells him about Harvey being his ace in the hole. So, my what-if for this alternate scenario is: what if the Joker was just about to expose his hand when Batman cut him off? JOKER You can't rely on anyone these days. You've got to do everything yourself, don't we? That's okay, I came prepared. It's a funny world we live in. Speaking of which, you know how I got these scars? As a kid I had a dentist who said I didn't open my mouth wide enough. He told me, "We got to make it a lot bigger so I can work in there." So, he took the drill, but instead of drilling my teeth, he used it to broaden my smile, all the while humming along with it's high-pitched whine. Sure made him happy. His office had one of those old-fashioned doors with the name painted on the wavy glass. Funny world. You see, it didn't say "DDS" or "Dentist" like the others. His had a different spelling: D-E-N-T. Period. Funny, don't you think?

Good one, Will. And I like your thought process in getting there. Interested to see what others do with it...

Yes, Eddie, post your take in comments. Good luck!

Speaking of which, you know how I got these scars. I was kid who got bullied but I don’t know why. I mean, look at me - before the scars. But one day in the alley, the boys took me aside and they started beating me. But I came prepared. I took out my knife -- one of those dull kitchen knives -- and you know what I did. I showed it to them. Then I put it to my face while starring at them all the while. And the looks were of horror and fear and memory scarred while I stood there silent. And smiling. An everlasting smile, the same smile that Gotham has come to witness. If you can't win Gotham by love, you win it by fear.

The Joker's an opportunist. He's also manipulative, insane, capricious and unprincipled. He's a chameleon who on the surface adapts to his environment but deep down really doesn't understand why. With the crime boss he wants to extract sympathy and with Rachel he wants to somehow relate (i.e., "So, I had a wife, who was beautiful... like you.") I'd imagine he'd try to intimidate Batman with his third story given he's on the verge of killing him (or so he thinks), but it's tough to say. From a screenwriting point of view I think the reader enjoys Batman's response, as it's almost like the payoff to a joke: Just when you think you know what's coming you're instead turned 180 degrees.

I always saw the Joker's stories as writing himself an origin story. He is clearly an unreliable storyteller as we don't know if either of his stories are true but I felt that it was the process of telling that was more important to him. For me the scars themselves are just a detail, the Joker always seems more interested in provoking the "why" response/thought process. So I felt that in this final conversation with Batman the Joker wanted to reveal Batman to himself. *** JOKER: Speaking of which, you know how I got these scars? You could say that I had a, uh, a rough childhood. Abandoned and set adrift in this mean ol' scary world. I looked at myself in the mirror, I thought- I couldn't keep them, I could save them, you know. 'course you do. Not as me anyhow. But you stare into yourself for too long, Bats, you stare into the void, and you- I just got to that point where I couldn't go on staring any longer. Not when you've got the radio crying out and the television crying out, all those screams just trying to get a piece of your attention. So I broke the mirror. And, with so many eyes on me, I took the glass... [traces his smile with his fingers] and I put on my mask. Who am I without it, hmm? Maybe just another lunatic who climbed out of the asylum. Maybe just another little lost boy without a mommy or a daddy... but that's who I was and he doesn't interest me much anymore.

Joker origin Since the Joker is a genius (personally I believe that in the Nolanverse he's a trust fund kid with unlimited resources. Kind of like Robert Durst, the early years). As I was saying since Joker is a genius and he's the flipside of the coin to Batman, he would've deduced that only someone as affluent as Bruce Wayne is Batman. Therefore, he would've concocted an origin story that hits home for Bruce. Something that would unsettle the Dark Knight . You want to know how I got these scars. One night after I came out of the opera house with my parents, we ran into a thug. He wanted my dad's wallet. My dad gladly gave it to him. The thug grinned and shot my parents down like animals. There I was... A skinny 9 year old kid. Scared to death. So he leans in, takes me by the scruff of my neck and asks me: Why so serious kid? Tears are rolling down my cheeks at this point. I'm paralyzed with fear. So he pulls out a knife and starts carving into my face. Let's put a smile on that FACE! Now Everytime I think of that night my frown is upside down. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

Joker: Speaking of which, you know how I got these scars? It's a funny coincidence u know . When I was younger , I would run with this guy ... lowlife, small time thief. Gotham was a different place then so he really was a product of his times. We would rob businessman and women on empty streets and families. There was this one night, I was starving and Joey was thirsty for the drink and we were looking for someone to steal from. I waited in the corner as he found this rich couple and their kid to hustle. Most nights Joey was calm and smooth, tonight coz of the booze, he was jumpy. He shot the kid's parents, dropped dead right there (laughs maniacally). He ran off, leaving me there and you know what ... I couldn't stop smiling. I saw the kid sitting there between his dead parents and nothing could protect him. He was as unsafe as every one of us were, I couldn't stop smiling to myself. I smiled all night , I went back to Joey. He didn't like that I was smiling, thought I was mocking him . He took a knife and did this to my face. He said he was sorry after and I was taken to the hospital then put in a Juvi mental facility. I never saw him again, But you would never know coz ... now am always smiling.

Speaking of which, you know how I got these scars? Funny story. I was a young comedian, Bats, and one day I scored the gig that would propel my career. I was the evenings entertainment at some rich, snobby kids 21st birthday party. You should have seen the place, you would have loved it, he really put some effort into maintaining the place; kept it nice and clean, with beautiful white drapes. And the kids cake, MASSIVE. I pulled out all the tricks on that stage, but I couldn’t get a laugh. Not one. If you thought my taste in humour was bad, you shoulda seen this people. I was dying on that stage, I could feel myself fading away. Then I remembered the golden rule of comedy: laughter is infectious. I knew all I needed was one laugh, one giggle, one smirk, one smile… and it would all break loose. But none of them were smiling so… I walked over to the cake, and picked up the knife. I took it in my hands and I gave them a big slice! *runs fingers along smile* Now, I’ve finally done it. Everyone’s laughing! All of Gotham is laughing! HAHAHAHAHA

Wanna know how I got these scars? When you're a kid who gets off killing small animals, it raises a red flag or two. But once you graduate to... bigger game... that's when they send you to juvi. Out of sight... out of their minds. The other boys used to tease me relentlessly. Always laughing. Kids can be so cruel. Now the warden was an especially creative disciplinarian. After the inevitable fights between me and the kids who sensed I was...different... he'd hand us each a sharpened screwdriver, lock us in the showers, kill the lights and tell us to settle it like men. Like men? We were little boys! Well, what are little boys most afraid of? Monsters. One day it's me and Robbie O'Malley's turn and he's standing there, laughing at me like a hyena. As per usual. So I took that screwdriver and gave myself a permanent makeover. Oh, that shut Robbie up all right. Then I looked at that scared little urine-soaked boy and as the room went pitch black, said the last three words he'd ever hear. "Who's laughing now?"

Joker: Speaking of which, you wanna know how I got these scars? First job was for a two-bit mob kid. Napier. Knocking over delivery trucks. Stealing chemical shipments. Crude barrels full of soup that made your hair fall out. Dry. One day there’s an accident. Napier made a mistake. He didn’t kill the driver fast enough. Man jams on the gas while we’re in the back with a hundred and sixty tons of ammonia. Sulfuric acid. Ether. Lands us on the concrete. Napier’s cooking in the soup. Back broken. And for the life of me, I can’t stop laughing! Napier grabs me. Puts a knife to my throat. Stop laughing! (giggles) But I can’t stop. I took his hand. I slid the knife up against the corners of my mouth! Over my tongue! I want to touch my ears. STOP LAUGHING. (cackles) But I couldn’t! Couldn’t make it past my jaw bone. So I put the knife in Napier’s ear. Tickled the right spot. He died with a smile on his face!

Joker You know how I got these scars? Hmm? 'see, kids used to call me little cry baby. In school they just went after me..beat me up, flushed my head down the toilet and locked me in. I always cried and asked (imitates whining) “Why?” Day in, day out, the usual drill. Then, one day this kid comes at me with his small hunting knife..and as this shiny little piece of metal gets closer, I decide I'm not gonna flinch this time..so I run right at him and his knife drills into my hand. (refers to his right hand) The pain is unbearable, so with tearful eyes yet again I ask him: “Why? Why?” And he says: “well that's your own damn fault, you little cry baby!” So then I pull out the knife..and did this..and all of the sudden, I'm not the crying baby anymore..as he looks at me, I smile at him “Why so serious?” Aaand..

(While standing over Batman on the ledge) Joker: Speaking of which, you know how I got these scars? You see, I loved watching the police patrol the streets where I lived as a kid, seeing them in their fancy, neat uniforms, and their cool belts with all the nifty gizmos (nods towards Batman's belt). I wanted to be like them. I mean, who didn't, right? I wanted to be one of them. So. Bad. So I go up to one of them, tell him I want to be like him. He laughs. IN MY FACE. He laughs! Says I'm not man enough. Says I don't have the guts. I pull out my pocket knife, put it to my face, ask him if this is man enough. He looks at me, says to stop playing around, but I can't even hear him. I tell him, why isn't he laughing anymore? Why so serious? I press the knife closer to my face, seeing him cringe. WHY SO SERIOUS? And then...(motions finger along scar on face) guess I had the guts after all.

Speaking of which, you know how I got these scars? Back then, I was poor but I had to take care of a child. A rich kid who lost his parents in a tragic way. Rather withdrawn... Whiner... You know the kind. I made him a promise to take him to the circus. But, you know what it is ... a commitment here, a commitment there... I forgot but I didn't really worry about that... He, however, oh... he has not forgotten anything. One night I had a drink, maybe several... and I took my comfort on what was our couch. He decided to come near me. A hug... one of those things that the rich do. But no, instead of that, I saw him brandishing a knife he had taken God knows where. He told me rather seriously that the circus was in town and the clown would make his grand entrance, and I shall laugh. Laugh, do you realize? And then he made me his clown in two strokes. I wonder what he has become...

I like Reddit's "Self-conscious performance" theory and the also how they say it makes a powerful comment on the difference between Batman and the Joker. I think his answer to Batman could be nicely tied to Batman's origin story. Speaking of which, you know how I got these scars? I didn't wanted my parents to think I was feeling anything but happy when they kicked the bucket. I just couldn't stand the thought they could think I was sad, angry, fearful or even cared about it. So I took a knife and make sure my smile was permanent right before I slit their throats to give them the happy ending they deserved.

It’s a funny world we live in. Speaking of which, you know how I got these scars? Of course not, but I’m gonna tell you anyway. My nurse. Arkham. Ohoo what a rack! Fell in love with my charming personality. Can’t blame her, ha? One day, pill-delivery, she brought her tarot cards for a fun future-guessing afternoon. I draw the Three of Cups. Reversed. Oops. Cheater. I can’t stop laughing at her betrayed little face. She takes the plastic cards and makes sure my smile will never fade away. Hahahahaha. Oh, I miss ‘ol Harley Quinn.

JOKER (smiles, remembering) You know how I got these scars? He draws his face closer to Batman’s JOKER At some point we choose to be STRANGERS to the rest world His other hand stretches to his mask, almost touching it once again, but no… He pulls himself BACK, missing his little show. JOKER (thoughtful to himself) but all I can think of… my poor little girl, in that fire!

“Speaking of which, you know how I got these scars, you see when I was a wee bit of a boy in the East End I would go to and from school like clockwork, Ms. Tennelly, then Mommy, then Mommy to Ms. Tennelly, never a change in variation, until one day I saw a poor kid like me get picked on by a crew. Now if they were any other crew I may have had a chance, maybe, but these guys...Mama Fortuna’s boys, the knock’em up boys, boys who got goals and always knocked them down. So, not knowing it was them at the time I huffed and puffed and told the group, “Stop, leave him alone. I’m serious, I’ll get the police”, and do you know what, they did. Run, run, run I was, fast as the wind blows, until I tripped. First they, marinated me with punches and kicks, then tenderized just right, the leader decided to add a garnish. So, a razor was planted at the corner of my mouth. Smiling, right into my eyes he said, “hey hero, why so serious?” And each day since my life has been nothing, but a ride of colorful fun.”

My thinking is based around two things. The first is the progression of his stories. In the first one, he's a son. The second, a husband. So, for me, the third one takes on another role - that of father. The second is that his stories are about unsettling the person he's speaking to. The first is generically upsetting, although what if Gambol isn't the target? What if the story of a son of an abusive father figure is actually aimed at his men (who he is about to destroy just as thoroughly as Gambol)? The second is about disfiguring women, told to a woman. Later, he tells the story to the police about why he uses knives, just so he can use the line about "do you want to know which of them were cowards?". This is his thing - it's calculated. So, assuming he doesn't know Batman's identity, it's a story about protection. But for the dramatic sake of it being as unsettling and close to the mark as possible, it has relevancies for Batman that the Joker doesn't realize. To back up a step, he's just been talking about "Have to do everything yourself", due to the bombs not going off, so I want to include that for context. JOKER Can't rely on anyone these days. Have to do everything yourself. I always have - and it's not always easy... you wanna know how I got these scars? See, I had this kid. Little boy. He's five and he wants to see the clowns. So his mom and me and him, we're going to the circus, but money's tight, we're walking. Take a shortcut down this alley and this guy... he pulls out a knife. Wants money. Jewellery. You always think you'll fight in a situation like that. But I run. So does she. But the boy... we realize and run back but it's too late. Stabbed seven times. And all he had to do was run. So I run away from there. That night, I find a cheap motel and I take a razorblade and... now, I'm the clown. (He moves forward, and a knife slides out from his sleeve into his hand) JOKER And now, all I want to do... is make everybody smile! (He attacks)

You know how I got these scars? I was what you might call a bad egg. Like all bad little eggs I had a knack for stinking up the place. Shoplifting, vandalism, too petty for the police to care about. Cocky little shit I was, I took that to mean I was untouchable. A victim threatens me, I just give em my winning smile! Until a couple upstanding citizens decide to take matters into their own hands. Vigilantes, drunk on justice and virtue, you know the type? Well they corner me in an alley, black ski masks, you know, good guys. Tell me since I liked to smile so much, they'd just make it permanent. Tell me they're doing it for the good of the community- for the GOOD! I realized then how much pain and suffering men will cause in the name of doing good.

Good job, folks. Still 90 minutes left until the challenge closes. Won't be until Monday to declare the winner. But isn't it interesting the wide variety of approaches to Joker's third explanation?

Well, I was born this way. In the womb I use to claw at my face and to the Doctor’s horror, I came out covered in scabs. Now, see… it didn’t stop there. People were horrified to see this child with his demented wound of a smile, and me? I loved that. They’d look at me and screw up their faces in disgust; I’d coo and laugh like any other baby would do for mother’s attention. So I kept scratching and tearing off my scabs. See, status quo never worked for me. I was born to undo it. And as I grew up, I doubled down. Scratching turned to cutting- fingernails to razorblades. And giggling at frightened faces, has turned to this, I have found the Truth- capitol T. Truth, Bat. People are always smiling to each other, but really, they hate everyone. You see, I am the one who really loves these people, because I know them. I know their contempt, their disgust, their hate and I love them for it. We were born this way, even you.

I missed the entry period, but I thought it was a fun exercise none-the-less!

Here, the Joker could be wrapping up his previous tales into one, knowing that this is his big finale against the object of his chaos throughout the film. So, I imagined this as an opportunity for him to recount his beginning(s) and reveal the similarities between himself and Batman as well as tie into the sequel a bit. "It's a funny world we live in. Speaking of which, you know how I got these scars? As a collector of the... eclectic arts, I found many ways to approach any one thing. But when it came to my collection itself, everything had to be just so: a painting at the perfect height, a sculpture in the right corner, never daring to be different. So I hear one of my 'favorites' is coming to town, and finally the monotony gets to me. I take one of the portraits down, taking a one in a million chance of getting it signed. And guess what: you're looking at that one in a million! He actually signs it, the first of a new collection. Just before I get home, I catch some teenagers tormenting a dog with a pair of meat shears. I had a choice and I chose to run. I run and I leave the dog to his fate. I run all the way to my home in the Narrows just in time for that little panic show last year. I barely make it to my building alive but I'm too late anyway. I fall to my knees watching my apartment, my one corner of the world... burn to ashes in the chaos. I don't even fear the chaos anymore. I fall back and let whatever happens happen. It was laughter that woke me up in the hospital the next morning, the kids' meat shears in a bag next to my bed. Of course I refused treatment, of course I left the Narrows. Why wouldn't I?! No fear, no rules... no pain. See those kids were just afraid. They started a fire... and the fire rises. See, since they didn't kill me, they simply made me... STRANGER."

P.S., I know I'm also past the deadline (by a long shot), but I've been meaning to post since this was posted since it seemed fun to explore, and it was worth it.