Arthur reached for his pocket watch for the 100th time. Always late..... why was it so hard to find reliable help now a days. Taking a long pull from his cigarette his eyes followed the smoke trail as it dispersed into the nights sky. While he had been having fun, as he always did, at the heavy hands of Arkham's guards it was time for a change. 

He'd seen all that Gotham had to offer, fought all that Gotham had to fight. While many might call him insane, they would never doubt his ambition. 

Finally his ride. Screeching along the dark street pulling up at the front doors of the Asylum. He dispersed with his blood stained disguise stepping into the cramped confines of the truck and lighting another smoke.

"Where to boss?", asked the goon.

"I've grown tired of the bat and his cronies, its time for a change. Take me to Chicago, I've a meeting with an old friend". 

Arthur slipped into an uneasy sleep, the last of the drugs the Arkham guards had pumped into his blood fading. 

Arthur awoke with a start outside a rundown old distillery. Rats scurrying left and right as the trucks lights disturbed their nights feast.

"Not much to look at boss, but a good a place as any to keep your head down", growled the goon.

"Keep my head down, who said anything about keeping my head down?", cackled Arthur with his trademark mad laugh. 

Tommy appeared from the dark, "Long time no see Arthur".

Together they disappeared into the dark confines of the distillery, ready to set up their new enterprise.

"So Arthur, what shall we call this new crew," asked Tommy.A

'Arkham Asylum" laughed Arthur, Tommy responding in kind their manic laughter echoing into the still night.