Author's Note: Title inspired by the old flick That Darn Cat - have not seen it yet myself, only heard of it and thought the name could be played with.
The Joker sat perched on the edge of one of the many wooden benches lining one of the numerous hallways of the infamous Arkham Asylum, his tapping toes lacking rhythm as he hummed tunelessly while staring nonchalantly up at the ceiling. He often came here and went as he pleased, right under the nose of the GCPD - only a certain director of the nuthouse knew exactly how many times he had been there.
The clown ceased humming as a flash of movement caught his eye: an enormous hound with short tan-colored fur barreled past him and down the hallway. Something glittered between its jaws.
The lunatic then shrugged dismissively and resumed his throaty vocalizations, watching with some amusement as Dr. Jonathan Crane, head of the Elizabeth Arkham Asylum for the Criminally Insane, skidded around the corner, quickly jerking his polished dress shoe-encased feet to the side so that he came to an abrupt and rather squeaky halt. He was panting visibly; his cheeks were flushed, his hair limp with sweat. Then the doctor's blue, blue eyes lit up.
"Joker, have you seen -"
"Nope." The clown grinned, humming and tapping his toes as he once again raised his eyes to the ceiling.
Prompted by a sudden burst of fury, another more nefarious persona took hold of Jonathan's mind - and in an instant he head straddled the Joker, the dual-personified body's erection throbbing at the clown's presence as the crotch of Jonathan's trousers was pressed into the lunatic's stomach. Joker did not resist as the doctor grabbed a fistful of oily green hair and yanked his head back: he actually rather enjoyed the pain - though he was slightly put-off by Jonathan's sexually-dominant position. Crane's azure eyes bulged; a vein in the side of his neck pulsated horribly.
"LIAR!" the Scarecrow screamed.
Click-click went the madman's tongue.
"Better watch those hips, Jonny: there're people here -" Joker shrieked with laughter as Crane slapped him across the face.
"Oooh, getting hard already, are we? Might I ask for more?"
Crane slapped the laughing clown again - then a flash of wagging tail disappearing around a corner caught his eye, and so he untangled himself from the Joker, the tails of his suit jacket flying out behind him as he bolted after the dog.
"THAT FUCKING FLEABAG STOLE MY KEYS!"
He rounded the corner after the mongrel - but his foot caught in the juncture of the two walls and he fell, landing hard on his front with a yelp as his glasses flew off, skittering away across the floor before finally coming to a stop beneath an empty hospital bed that was stationed off to the side farther down the hallway.
The cornfield being scrambled after his spectacles and donned them - but he forgot to mind his head as he straightened up and the back of his cranium hit the metal rung on the underside of the gurney, causing him to cry out in pain.
Rubbing his head, he then slid to his feet and swept off at a brisk walk after his new "friend," muttering all the while:
"Damn keys. . .always coming unhooked from my belt. . .Wonder how in the hell that mongrel got in here in the first place?. . ."
He nearly tripped again as he stumbled over something lying on the floor at the end of the hallway: his property had been returned to him.
But a mindless bloodlust had taken hold of Scarecrow's mind, and all that mattered now was the absolute demolition of his four-legged nemesis. He exited the asylum's front doors on a sudden whim -
And there it was, sitting back on its haunches, dark eyes almost lazily half-shut as it wagged its tail, apparently having crawled through a gap at the bottom of the chain-link fence which served as a perimeter for the institution grounds.
One ear slightly raised, the mutt cocked its head to the side and whined piteously.
The doctor screamed in mindless rage and kicked over an empty trashcan with a loud clang!
"GODDAMMIT!"
- - -
Once again the cool, calm and collected Dr. Jonathan Crane, psychologist, he strode smoothly back into the "hospital" a few moments later, and approached two guards who were casually leaning on the front desk and chatting up the receptionist behind it.
"There is a hole near the north end of the perimeter fence that is in dire need of repair." Crane's voice was brusque and official - not to be questioned. "Any and all dogs or other disruptive creatures found trespassing on the premises must immediately be shot and/or otherwise disposed of."
He made to leave; but then turned back - "Oh, wait a moment" - and pulled a clear plastic Ziploc bag from his trouser pocket - where he resolved to keep the unlocking mechanisms from now onward - and tossed it to the nearest guard.
"Sanitize my keys, will you?"
The thug lifted up the baggie - one was hardly able to see the contents, they were so covered in drool - and shared a look of disgust with his fellow watchman as Crane stalked off down the hallway.
He had a Joker to deal with. . .
END
Jonathan is most awfully clumsy, is he not? He's not normally really capable of being violent against his Joker boyfriend (very punny hahaha) - but Scarecow is more than able to become aggressive when absolutely necessary.
Yes, the "certain director of the nuthouse" is Dr. Crane.