How to Con the False Royals (The Wicked):
E-Mail sent three hours ago, to film journal source redacted.
Dialogue context and exact type saved:
I spent my entire life, posing as a cop, to lure in a female cop, for a priest to rape to become a cop, and a spy to report on as a priest, so I could report it to cinema with Batman as a royal instead of an American cop, with Joker as a cop and his doctors as priests.
I did it because with an overweight spouse, either sex, same sex marriage or heterosexual marriage, the non-obese spouse turns into a child molester and raises a priest.
My father was obese and my mother was mentally ill, I can’t be a priest.
So I’m a serial killer.
How many lies to my doctors and family and friends and hypnotists and pharmacists and business deals and drug purchases and meal purchases and EBT statements and liquor preferences did you print, as me, Joaquain Phoenix?
Versus what did you model Bruce Wayne on, what did I write?
The Joker, the Sundance Film.
The one I wrote where the cop rapes the girl.
The truth of the priestly rumor.
Am I going to Attica, for being a cop, the Joker, hiding here?
Actually the Riddler, the victim of a cop initiation, the rape of a woman that falls for a Gentile?
By the Royal Police Orders of America?
A Jew getting raped?
Statuatory, unconcealed, in public?
For loving a real Royal?
Do you see me now, Miss Hat?
Do you see Edward Nygma?
Am I wearing a bowler?