Don't you think that madness is the funniest thing in life? Or would that be tragedy? IT DOESN'T MATTER! Everything can be funny if you want to! Everything can be tragic if you want to, and everything is the same. – And that reminds me of… -
Well, you see, I was never the type of guy who let a joke pass by, and may I say, there is nothing that amuses more the crowd than the sight of a sad clownFALLING with his FACE on the GROUND. And you see…Though I am the ultimate Clown Prince of Crime, I too am part of the audience. And the audience is the LIFE of the circus, now, isn't it? You could compare me to a trainer and its pet, its pretty lion, that on the very SIGHT of the WIP, it just turns into a scared domesticated cat…
You might be wondering where I'm heading with this and I will be straight: Harleen Quinzel (or Haley Quinn, if you'd prefer). Now, I could really stop here to explain you the joke, but turns out that a joke isn't GOOD if you HAVE TO EXPLAIN IT. And you don't want me to explain it, do you? Because the joke was good, it was very, very good. See? Everyone is laughing! Even her.
She makes me laugh and I like to laugh, I like people who make me laugh, cause that means I don't have to kill em. It does get very lonely once in a while to hunt Batsy on my own, so why not have an… Assistant to my beautiful spectacle of death, eh?
Sometimes, however, I can't help to feel like KILLING her. That bitch never fails to ruin the joke, and I hate. People. Who ruin. The fucking. Joke. But it's fun to play with her… To have her bright blue round eyes popping out her face in the most beautiful show of illusion.
Illusion!You see, people think they have control over life and others, and that is really cute, but thing is: everything is an illusion! It's a lie! Everything! It's a lie, it's a joke! And to see that look in their eyes when they realize how meaningless life is…That is the most stunning look one could ever see.
The illusion that she can control me.
Every time she comes in with that high-pitched voice, calling me "Puddin", and other stupid lil' things, I see in her eyes that same look. And I turn to her, and I smile (because a smile is the best thing one could ever have), saying to her softly her name – "Harley…", I say -. And the look she makes when my palm hits her cheek, those popping eyes abruptaly closing – GOD! – That is the most wonderful feeling in the world. To have their smiles at the very palm of your hand. Forever.
Their smiles will be part of you. Forever.
Cause she IS mine forever and she will always come back. I give her the illusion that she can run away, that she can be free, but she can never be – She is mine -. She is the very incarnation of my show: the exposition of my power, the example of my control, my doll…And I'm her dollmaker. That little sad clown…Her greatest joke is her existence, and she only exists with me. And I don't care how many times I must hit her to show her, to fuck her to show her, she can never run away from me. She is part of my number now…
And the show must go on.