A/N: This was a really retarded and awesome dream that I had. Please excuse my randomness.
Disclaimer: I don't own TDK or the Joker. Sadly. I want to own the Joker, though. Mmm…my very own Joker…
Enjoy!
Pants, pants, pants… Where were those dumb pants? Stupid complicated Joker costume.
Why was I looking for Joker pants on the Internet, you ask? Well, I wanted the perfect Joker costume for Halloween. I was going to look amazing. If it weren't for those damn pants…
Do excuse my language.
Suddenly, someone burst into my house. Which is weird, because my alarm didn't go off. Someone I recognized to be Maroni from The Dark Knight grabbed me from behind.
"Hey! Let go!" I protested.
"No way, babe," he said.
"EW!" I screeched. "Pedophile much?"
Just then, we were poofed to the mob's underground lair. As much as I would have loved to flip out, I couldn't, because I was still in Maroni's grasp.
For some weird reason, apparently Gambol had been resurrected from the dead, and now he said, "Good, you got her."
Maroni let me go. "Yes, I did."
I turned and punched him in the face. "That'll teach you to call me 'babe', you pedophilic bastard!"
The Joker entered the room, cackling. I began giggling and hopping up and down. He looked at me. "Well, hello, beautiful."
I blushed and rocked back and forth on my heels. "Tee-hee. Hi."
He took me into his arms. I squealed and huggled him. He grinned at me. "Let's go, babe."
I squeezed him tighter. "Ha, ha. You called me 'babe'."
"Hey!" Maroni whined. "How come you're not punching him for calling you 'babe'?"
"I don't mind it coming from him," I replied. "Besides, have you seen the face under this makeup?"
With that, the Joker and I left. However, there was an annoying beeping noise in the background, gradually growing louder and louder and louder…
I sat up in my bed. "Dangit," I grumbled.
Stupid realistic dream world.
Hope you liked it. Please review.