Some people wouldn't be happy about it but he had his claws dug deep in this Red Ice business. In fact, he had sampled it a bit once or twice in the not too recent past. It was one <i>hell</i> of a drug, kind of like... crack cocaine with an extra kick and with a red coating. Yet he mostly dabbled in drugs on a regular basis. He was no addict, yet he would push his body to see what it could take, what it could adapt to in order to develop an immunity. Right now he had snatched up one of the suppliers right in the middle of his runs. It was as he was driving through a tunnel. Him and his men cut off this low life piece of slime, abducted him and took the full supply of drugs in exchange for being stood up twice in the past month for their cut. Right now? He was waving his right hand through the air, listening to the sound of Johann Sebastian Bach's Prelude in C Major. He was leaning his head from side to side, going along with the beat and staring off into the distance. "Ahhh... I always have loved the classics. Bach... Betthoven. And even stuff that's a little bit newer. Sinatra, Ray Charles... the good stuff, ya know?" He turned his gaze from the distance, looking towards the man who now sat tied to a chair in the basement of his hideout. "Come on, Ronald. Be a pal and tell me." He moved over, that grin everpresent upon his face as he pulled the gag out of his mouth and left it hanging along his chest. "<i>Why</i> did you stiff me on the goods? That wasn't very... nice. You did a pinky swear and everything." From here, The Joker did a theatrical pout. The man sputtered, then he acted as if he were trying to talk yet stuttered off into a fit of silent laughter. This had The Joker raising a brow and he smirked. "You know, I fail to see what's so funny here... mind sharing with the rest of the class, sonny?" The man gave another laugh, then he spat at The Joker's feet. <i>"You act like you some big shot in this city, but you're fulla shit. What makes you think you can-"</i> The point of a knife along the buttom of his chin had him stopping and those wide, wild, toxic green eyes of The Joker stared into the man's eyes. "Come on, Ronny... I've been running the streets since before these 'big shots' had their first nut. And you're the one tied down so... I'd be careful. Now tell me... who was it that told you to stiff me on the goods?" The man swallowed, sweat beading from his brow. He looked left, then right and then left again. Then he finally looked back to the madman with a maniac grin and said, <i>"George... it was George."</i> The Joker gave a chuckle and a nod. "Well, that's good. Thank you for telling me." The knife was plunged into the man's head right under the chin, just above the adam's apple. He endured the spray of blood and reveled in the sound of a gurgle as the man choked on his own blood. "Now die! Eeheeheehee!" After the job was done he withdrew the blade, turned to his men and said, "I think our guest got himself into a little bit of a mess... would you men be good enough to clean him up a bit? I've got a message to deliver to George." One of the thugs said, <i>"Sure thing, boss."</i> From there, they underwent the task of untying Ronald and cleaning him up as The Joker grabbed a towel and wiped his face clean. There was so much to do, so little time. Georgie thought he could stand The Joker up? He had another thing coming and he was going to deliver a clear message.