You Just Can't Find Good Help These Days?
by Sunflare2k5

Disclaimer: None of these characters are mine, but only Two-Face and
Scarecrow belong to DC Comics. The rest? You'll need to figure that
out for yourselves... but there's a virtual cookie in it? :)

Two-Face's path had led him to the Stacked Deck that evening. He got a
double shot of whiskey from the bartender, then gave a second look at
the crowd while he decided where to sit. Much to his surprise, he saw the
Scarecrow at a table by the wall. A flip of the Coin, and he decided to go
check on his fellow Arkhamite.

"So… what are you doing here?" Two-Face asked.

Scarecrow gazed into his glass as if the answers were floating inside it,
then slowly looked up at Two-Face. "Bad batch of henchmen…" he sighed.

Two-Face pulled up a chair and sat down. "They couldn't be that bad, or
else you'd be back in Arkham." he noted.

Scarecrow gave a slight nod to that. "True enough, but it was more luck
than anything that allowed me to find sanctuary. But let me start at the
beginning: I couldn't find sufficiently trained henchmen here, so I started
looking farther afield. That's how I discovered Monsieur Maillard's training
facility."

"Never heard of him?"

"Well, they usually work in Europe, but as Maillard was wanting to expand
operations to America, he offered a substantial discount for hiring a team."
Scarecrow explained.

"And..?" Two-Face leaned forward.

"The first of the group deserted me immediately, to go sign up with Jervis."
Scarecrow shrugged. "But considering that henchman insisted that he was
actually a Britannia-ware teapot… I shouldn't be surprised."

"A… teapot?" Two-Face echoed softly, his half-handsome features twisted
into confusion.

"It gets worse." Scarecrow took a gulp of his drink. "The police showed up,
and that's when the other henchmen showed their true colors. The twins
insisted on serving them snacks… champagne and Cordova cheese."

"You're joking?"

"No… and to make it worse, they were the snacks!" Scarecrow slammed the
glass back down. "The first one stood there, and made a popping sound with
his thumb and mouth, then hissed and bubbled through his teeth. And the
other? He tried to cut open his thigh, insisting that the slices from the middle
of his leg were the best part!"

"So... didn't any of them prove useful?" Two-Face asked carefully, not wanting
to antagonize Scarecrow into using his fear toxins.

"Just Eugenie Salsafette; she was the one that allowed me to escape... but
that was only by luck, as I said. She evidently had bouts of vestiphobia, and
one struck her from the stress of the battle."

"Vestiphobia?" Two-Face asked.

"Fear of clothing -- so she had to be rid of them immediately. And as she was
rather attractive, she..." There was a hint of the Scarecrow's blush visible at
the eyeholes of the mask. "Erm, she drew the police attention to her, allowing
me to escape."

"...oh." For a moment, he pictured Poison Ivy using similar tactics, the leaves
of her costume falling away like autumn... He shook his head, and likewise
gulped at his drink. Don't go there, Harvey, she'll only break your heart!
Two-Face mentally reminded his good half.

"Well it just goes to show you..." Two-Face started.

"Show what?"

Two-Face finished off his drink. "You just can't find good help these days?"

(The End)