Thick clouds pass over the full moon, darkening Gotham City.
With a gust of air Batman lands on the roof of a high rise building -- completely blacked by the night. As he stands, the moon light breaks threw, casting a long shadow of him over the building's edge.
He presses a button on the grappling hook and it retracts into the unit; the hooks fold over the head.
He looks around, then pulls out a small walkie-talkie, "How's it going?"
"Boring," says Robin, sitting on the edge of a building top, "I actually debated the pros & cons of doing this or calculus."
"And?"
"This won ... by a narrow margin."
Batman grins, "Well, at least you're deriving a good time. Batman out."
Robin's voice replies as Batman lowers the walkie-talkie, "Ha ... ha..."
Batman continues examining his city below. Just then something catches his eye; he pulls out a pair of binoculars. Lights are on in large factory windows. He scans the perimeter of the building and sees a box truck backed into one of the loading docks. The side of the big white truck reads: Joker's Packers Moving Company -- It's Practically A Steal! He removes the binoculars and looks up at the factory name: Laugh Co. Toys. He aims the grappling hook and presses the button; white smoke laces into the air as it shoots out.
… Joker pulls off a clown mask that looks happy, "It just wasn't me. Hey! Go a little slower, will ya?! Or do you need me to repeat myself?" he frowns and clenches his teeth together, looking very menacing at one of his lackeys.
The lackey, wearing a clown mask, replies, "Sorry boss," and slows down. He heads to the truck, carrying a box.
"There isn't enough racket; we need more racket. Bruno!" commands Joker.
"Huh?"
"Break something!"
"Sure thing, Mr. Joker," the second lackey drops the box he was carrying and violently kicks it. It slides across the floor and hits a wall; sounds of broken parts rattle.
Joker slaps his forehead and rubs it in frustration, "Not the swag, you nincompoop!"
The other lackey, just out of the truck, bends over and picks up the box Bruno kicked, "I got it," he walks over to the opened box truck, the inside of which is very dark.
"I've got it," comes a voice from inside, then takes a hold of the box.
"Thanks," and turns around; he sees Bruno and Joker and thinks for a second, then says, "Huh?" and turns around to look into the truck.
The white triangle eyes of Batman illuminate, "Special delivery..."
WHACK! The lackey stumbles back down the ramp, spins about, then keels over on the conveyer line of spinning metal bars; he rolls down unconscious. Batman steps out; the amber glow of the overhead lights shin down on him.
"Batman!" exclaims Joker.
"Only a month out and I see you're back to clowning around."
"Oh, pish-posh," waves his hands, "the factory had a grand re-opening; I'm just giving their security a test drive."
"Ride's over," he approaches.
"Now hold on!" Joker backs up, "I actually wanted you here!"
"Riiigght..."
"No, seriously! I need your help!" he covers his face and looks away. When nothing happens, he removes his hands and slowly turns around, "bah!" Batman is right in front of him.
"If this is the punch line, I assure you I am not laughing."
"I pinky swear on the grave of whatever Cub Scout it was I ran over on the way here."
"Then why the masks?"
"Eh, they're just hired help; no need to bring them into this."
Batman spins 90 degrees and approaches the lackey; his cape drawn to a close. The lackey backs up, holding a box. Batman keeps getting closer until the lackey backs into a wall.
"Don't hit me, please! I'm just hired help; a peon. Right boss?"
"Absolutely," blurts out Joker.
Batman reaches for the lackey's head and rips the clown mask off. When the lackey opens his eyes, a flash occurs. Batman then pockets a miniature camera.
"Oh no -- boss, he took my photo!"
"Blah, blah -- you knew the risk when you put the uniform on."
"The game grows tiresome, Joker. You say you need my help, but as far as I can tell it's too load stolen merchandise."
"Well, I couldn't very well prance around on police headquarters shinning the Batman spot light, now could I?"
"And the truck?"
Joker grins and intertwines his fingers, "Just a little something for my trouble in case you didn't show up."
"You have until the count of five to say something believable, before I turn that smile upside down. One..."
"Harley is missing!"
"And? You abuse her both physically and emotionally; maybe she dumped you."
"Harley and I have a routine," he puts his arms out, then draws them back in and walks about, "we fight, we make up. We fight, we make up. We fight and she leaves me. But a week later she comes back and we start the whole thing all over again. She's like clockwork; each month there are two things I know for certain she will do -- that and have her pe-"
"There is only so long you can mistreat someone before they wake up and take charge of their lives."
"The only thing Harley takes is other people's wallets; though charging does come after that. HA HA!"
"You've got contacts on the street."
"Yes, and I tried them all. The only thing I haven't tried is that blasted plant lady, but I can't find her. Poison Oakey I think she called her."
"Poison Ivy. She'll be easy enough to find. Why should I help you?"
"I thought you might ask that and I came up with an offer, and boy is it a doozey. Get ready for it ... I will not steal a thing for a month; no looting, pillaging, plundering, or appropriation of goods that are not my own. Two whole fort nights of good, clean Joker. What do you say?"
"Not good enough."
"Wha??"
"I want you to do one more thing."
"Well, name it, man! My Harley could be in trouble. Insanity just isn't the same without another to do it with."
"During that period I want you to bialso treat her with respect and kindness. Show her you appreciate her. No physical violence or harsh words, just love. You are capable of loving, right?"
"We're talking emotionally, right?"
Batman stands un-phased, looking angry.
"Yeeesh, all right. So, what do we do now? We're not going to have to work with that Robin kid, are we? Green tights? That's a fashion faux pas even among the Irish."
"Now you put everything back where you found it and you pay to reimburse for the damages you have caused."
"Fine, fine. Er, ah ... you -- lackey guy," snaps a finger, "start putting the stuff back."
"Yes, sir, boss."
"See? I can be a team player."
"You too..."
"Me? Manual labor? I'm the Joker; it's what I hire lackeys for."
Batman points; his cape opens to a side.
Joker mumbles as he lowers his brow, "Lousy guano eatin' ... Dean Martin doesn't have to put up with this..."