He feels an open summons and lets it grab him -
"I mmmay have been kidding."
"So, why the explosions, then?"
"It's complicated," he sighs, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. "Hard to explain. And most people who ask don't really wanna know, they're just hoping in the back of their minds I'll suddenly figure out I never had a reason, you know?"
"I doubt I will think much of your reasons, but I'm optimistic that they exist in some form."
"And then she threw me off a building and caught me on the way down. It's never gonna work out between us, what can I say."
"It takes explosions to draw her out or you just wanted plenty of margin of error or what?"
"Or what. Getting her to beat me up was not my precise and literal goal. You could just as easily say I wanted her to make interesting choices where I could see 'em. Or that I wanted to play a game."
"Huh. And you do not appear to have gotten very caught."
"She caught me all right. I still have the scars. Did some time in the local criminal nuthouse, too, and then I escaped when I got bored, because their security is a shameful disgrace."
"And now you're friends with a cop, who you visit while wearing your extremely distinctive makeup."
"I won't say it was easy. But, y'know, desperate times. He doesn't like Bane much either."
"That's Mr. Nuclear Bomb?"
"What is up with terrorists hereabouts going by peculiar stage names?"
"Damned if I know."
"Well, why yours?"
"It's a whole theme. It suits me. Clowns are scary, didn't you know?"
"I'm indestructible and demonic, you're not gonna keep me up at night for my own sake."
"I'm not trying to scare you. No comment on whether or not I could. Maybe if I got to know you better. No, but I mean - clowns are this thing that's supposed to be fun and lighthearted, but people find 'em creepy all over the place. The jokers are the wild cards, not really in the deck and not really out of it either. I wear an expensive suit, but it's purple and scruffy and the vest clashes with the jacket. There's a whole aesthetic to it, see?"
"Maybe it's lost on me."
"Mm, it's lost on a lot of people, honestly. I think Johnny's starting to get it, though."
"Maybe he'll explain it to me."
"I set a billion dollars on fire once," he says, which may or may not appear to be a bit of a non sequitur.
"Why did you have a billion dollars in paper form?"
"We-ell, that's a story. See, I stole some money from the mob, and through some crazy hijinks, that led 'em to hire me to find somebody else who took the rest of their money. Which I did, and then there I was with the thief - what he actually did was more complicated, but for simplicity's sake, call him a thief - on top of a great big pile of cash, and I lit the whole thing up in front of one'a the guys who hired me. Of course," he grins, "I was only burning my half. It's a joke, see? Make 'em think I'm in it for the money, and then burn that theory to the ground."