Jeremy Sawyer

Jeremy has just been a dishwasher before all that had been done to him minding his business and trying to get through life. Then he was grabbed by the Jokers goons coming home from a late shift at work. Who knew one decision to try and build up some cash from a rainy day fund in a car of emergency for the future would destroy his future so fundamentally?

Truly, the world works in funny ways like that. He had survived the crucible that was the Jokers little fun house of horror, but came out a broken man on the other side. He wasn't the dish washer who was just trying to make it through the day, hoping maybe that one day he'd somehow work his way up to something better somewhere down the line. No, that man died in the fun house.

Though who came out of the house he wasn't really sure. He was sure he got something out of the pain and the horror of watching the insane clown do his mad work. He got power—a strange power, but power none the less. He looked at his hand as he created and spun ketchup and mustard above it, making them take shapes and dance above his hand.

Now what? He was sitting in his old studio apartment, where he had just been a couple of days ago. Before what had changed him, what had broken him. Now instead of his home like it was before, it felt like a grave. A grave to the man that once lived but wasn't alive anymore—not really, not in the ways that mattered.

He got up and looked himself in the mirror. What looked back at him was the same twenty-something white kid trying to make it in the big city that had looked in that mirror a couple days ago. That is, until you looked into the eyes and saw the horror that looked back in the haunted eyes of a survivor, not an overworked kid that had been looking in this same mirror not even a week ago.

The broken man that looked into his own eyes looked away from his reflection and sat back down on his coach and thought. "I need to escape." He said to himself as he felt the room his tomb to what he had been closing in on himself. He looked back over to the ketchup and mustard that he created in the air; it was still moving in the same shape, still dancing to the same tune he had given it.

"Yes, that it." The broken man said that had once been a person known as Jeremy. He looked around the room and began to gather the materials for what he needed to do. He put everything he had gathered on the kitchen table and saw it wouldn't be enough and sighed. "Have to do this." He said to himself as he gathered the resolve he needed and walked outside, the fear of being taken again hovering over him like a shadow.

He jogged, not ran, as to have some control over himself and to not give satisfaction to snatchers if they were trying to get him. As he knew they got a threat out of the chase, he had seen it in their eyes the first time he got snatched before everything went dark. He made his way over to an arts and crafts store and gathered his supplies grabbing everything he needed quickly and almost running to self check out as everyone looked at him.

As they knew they all had heard of the man that had been, they knew he had survived, one of the few that had. They wished to ask him, but he didn't know because the man was dead; he was just walking around in his skin. He made his way out after having paid for his supplies and quickly jogged back to his studio apartment with the fabric, needles, and other supplies he needed.

He began to work, making what he needed bit by bit until finally he had what he needed. He looked at his hands after he was done looking at all the cuts from the needles and was surprised to find that he felt pain and that the dead man still felt pain. He got his costume, which he had been making ready, as with it he'd be reborn as he wouldn't be a dead man anymore; he would be somebody else just like all the others.

So he made his way out holding onto his costume, a wizard's robe and hat with red and yellow colors. He wondered where he should start and who the new should be. "Bad or Good?" He asked himself, thinking about it for himself, then he remembered he didn't have a mask, and they saw he was a dead man, and nobody wanted help from a dead man. So better to be bad where everyone would agree dead man belonged.

So the man now in a wizard costume who was once called Jeremy proceeded to walk into the nearest restaurant shouting ketchup ball and mustard ball at the top of his lungs. While in his wizard robe and hat, causing a lot of chaos as a lot of people both working and eating suddenly found themselves taking giant balls of ketchup or mustard to the face.

Eventually order was restored as the now cackling Jeremy, who was shouting I am the Condiment wizard in between saying mustard ball or ketchup ball, was tackled from behind to stop his condiment bombardment. When he was informed he was going to jail in the back of a squad car, he replied with. "At least I'm alive again." With a bizzar smile that stretched ear to ear.

So after saying that he was immediately given a psyche evaluation and found to be insane, which wasn't considering he had been tortured by the joker for a long period of time. To be honest, it was a miracle he was alive at all. So the fact everything upstairs wasn't working quiet right anymore wasn't really a surprise to anyone involved. So he was shipped to Arkam Asylum to have the shrinks help him.