The familiar fanfare fills the air around millions of Gotham’s television sets. WWGC’s familiar logo, the pigeon in flight carrying a pen, appears on the screen. It’s soon replaced by the interior of the WWGC newsroom, a familiar sight to many of it’s regular viewers. Less familiar is the man sitting in the spot usually occupied by Vicky Vale.

With his pitch-black makeup, giant, red lips and bulbous eyes, the stranger makes an entire city recoil. Some in horror, some in embarrassment, some in laughter and validation. The hypnotic swing of the large, black, yarn locks beneath his straw, Dixie hat captivates thousands of Gothamites. A wide smile spreads across his face, giving him an appearance so disturbing that it traumatizes an entire generation of Gotham’s children.

“Greetings, citizenry and visitors of Gotham City,” he eloquently elucidates. In the background of the studio, the sounds of a banjo strumming a light, fast tune began to play. The figure simply stares into the camera for a minute and a half, not saying anything or even commenting on the music as it plays.

Finally, he raises one hand, pointing up as though the source of the sound were right above his head.

“Currently, your ears are being pleasured by the musical genius of the great Nina Simone. Your banjoist is yours truly, and the piece is entitled Mississippi Goddamn.”

He takes up a sheet of white paper from his desk, nodding his head and contorting his face as though he were actually reading it. But his eyes are crossed. One stares down at the paper while the other still looks at the screen. The disgusting body horror sends many mothers anxious, as all around the city they warn their children not to attempt it.

“I see,” Minstrel says as he turns the paper over. His eye remains stuck in the same position. With his left hand, he takes a finger and repositions, so it too stares straight at the camera.

“It appears that Miss Simone was inspired to compose this masterpiece after receiving news of the murders of Medgar Evars, Addie Mae Collins, Cynthia Wesley, Carole Robertson, and Carol Denise McNair.”

With each name, a black-and white picture flies past the impromptu reporter. A later analysis of google searches will indicate that for the next two days, each of the victim’s names, preceded by the phrase “who was” will dominate searches for the area.

“In the aftermath of their brutal murders,” the Minstrel continues, “Miss Simone was enraged. She went to her garage and decided that she needed to construct a gun. Her exact target was unclear to her in the moment, but she resolved to figure out who to target first after her tool was constructed.”

The strange figure turns away from the camera for the first time. His head hangs low while he shakes it in disapproval. This break in his monologue continues for eighteen seconds before his head suddenly snaps up, and another wide grin is revealed.

“Miss Simone did not go on a shooting rampage, however. Instead, she was rescued from her fit of rage by her husband, who reminded her that she wasn’t a killer but instead a musician. There were better ways a woman such as her could help the situation.”

The song continues to play, but the instrumental is overshadowed by the sound of Nina Simone’s voice wailing throughout the studio. People in nursing homes begin to sway to the familiar sound.

“And so, this classic protest song was born. Nina realized that to create music was better than to take life, so she set to work on this song, Mississippi Goddamn, and the rest is history. Black History. This has been your Black History Minute, Gotham City.”

The broadcast goes black.

Three seconds later, the broadcast returns.

“I, of course, will not write songs to combat murderers,” Minstrel said with a blank, unsmiling face.

The broadcast goes black again.

It does not return after ten seconds.

After ten more seconds, the broadcast returns. 

“By the way,” Minstrel says while holding the camera aloft in his hands, “I do of course mean that I’m about to go on a killing spree. Stop me if you can, Batman.”

The broadcast goes black once again.

One second later, the broadcast returns.

“This is Minstrel, by the way. Should have mentioned that. Okay, for real this time. Ex-oh-ex-oh.”

End Chapter 6.