“If I have to have a past, I'd prefer it be multiple choice.”

There are many rumours whispered throughout the criminal underworld about the supervillain known variously as Prince Chaos, King Mob, Anarky and, most recently, King Fool. Some say he was a high-powered attorney whose life fell to pieces and made him realise that the laws and rules of the world are meaningless; others that he was a petty hood who stole some experimental hallucinogens from a pharmaceutical company and injected himself with them when the police caught him, trying to hide the evidence but going stark raving mad in the process; some that he is a priest of some ancient chaos-god, and his crimes are acts of faith; and many claim that he was simply born with a sense of reality offset 180⁰ from everyone else.

Whatever the truth, if there is just one, King Fool's modus operandi is simple. He's not a world conqueror like Lord Steelfist, a psychotic killer like Bloodstone, a gang boss with a fancy gimmick like the Top Hat, or a materialist thief like Catspaw. King Fool is a cosmic clown, a jester who holds up a funhouse mirror to the world of the rich and powerful to show them how warped it all is. He's never a killer, and seldom hurts anyone worse than a few bruises. His crimes are more often vandalism and theft, though he gives away most of what he steals (minus the cost of gadgets and such). Some of his most famous deeds are slipping the President LSD minutes before the State of the Union address; replacing all the greenbacks in the First National bank vault with monopoly money; releasing all the animals from the Metropolitan Zoo and locking the mayor's staff in the cages instead; and repainting the road markings down town so all the cars were stuck driving in circles.

Recently, though, his latest crime spree came to an end as he was captured again by his arch-rival, the vigilante Nemesis. King Fool was remanded to Bedlam Asylum, where he stayed in the infirmary for months until his broken bones knitted and cuts healed. When he was finally declared physically healthy, he was placed in a padded cell, straitjacketed and under guard, waiting for a psychiatrist to determine whether he was mentally sound to stand trial.

King Fool is a tall, lean man of indeterminate age; he could be anywhere from 20 to 40. He has the body of a gymnast, agile and flexible, with long dexterous fingers and big, clownish feet. Each eye is a different colour, one blue, one green, and his hair is longish, messy, light brown but usually dyed any colour of the rainbow. When he's not moving, he's quite average-looking; but when in action, he is filled with a kind of manic energy that lights up his eyes and makes his smile blaze and puts a dance in his step. He possesses a wild kind of charisma that leads people around him to get caught up in his schemes.