"But Mistah J, I-" was all Harley could utter before the Joker's gloved hand came down on her face. This was her third screw-up in only a week's time.
"Eight. Teen. Thousand!" he said with a rising tone. "The bomb was worth EIGHTEEN THOUSAND!" he continued, making it a point to over enunciate his words. Harley had accidentally drove Jokers prized vehicle, a truck painted in grim purple and bright green, into a light post. Then into a pot hole, and finally a small store in the backwater part of Gotham. It had a bomb strapped to it that was weeks in the making. Harley herself built it, complete with TWO remote detonators, a changeable countdown timer, and not to mention it was powerful enough to level a quarter of Gotham. It was to be used in Joker's latest 'Get rich and scare millions" gag.
~THWAAK~ "Joker's backhand was worse than the last", Harley thought to herself, cheeks red and raw, not to mention dirty. Most of the red tint in her face, where her elaborate makeup was rubbed off, was from pure shame more than from his violent strokes across her face.
"Mistah J! It was Bats!" she pleaded, hoping, not only to, convince him to calm down but also to hold back tears. She continued, "Okay maybe the pole and pothole were my fault, but Batty blew one of the tires!". She wasn't lying either. Batman had shown up after receiving reports about a 'careless clowny driver that rammed a pole head on and sped off with a suspicious looking metal box in back'. "He musta threw one-a his batarangs or blew the tire somehow!". Harley pleaded that it wasn't her fault (at least not completely). But Joker didn't want excuses, he wanted his eighteen grand bomb back.
To say Quinn was a bit clumsy would be an understatement. Joker knew this, but because of her body and (probably the more accurate reason) psychotic and adrenaline junked mind, he had decided that keeping her around was worth the occasional slip up. But lately it was getting worse, and her 'little accidents' were happening more and more. Normally he'd just ignore and fix her mess, as he himself slightly enjoyed a little bit of chaos now and then. But lately, it was beginning to become too much.
~PAAHK~ his clenched fist made contact with her face rather harshly. His glove cushioned the blow slightly, but not by much, as it still hurt Harley quite a bit. She could feel her eye throb and glow with pain. "That was going to leave a mark" she thought. Even if she was getting beat by what now seemed to be her ex lover, she still always had time to be wise and crack a joke. Even if it was at herself.
"I don't WANT EXCUSES" he shouted in a shrill tone. He raised his hand and struck again with no hesitation. His knuckles on his right hand, now showing through the ripped gloves, were bruised. With his middle knuckle starting to bleed slightly. "But Puddin I can just make a new one and -" she couldn't finish. If it wasn't for Jokers third punch, it would have been her tears preventing her from continuing. "You don't have the RIGHT to plead with me!" ~SHAHK~ This time it was a front handed slap, but to the poor femme clown on the floor, it didn't matter. Her face was numb already and although she wasn't bleeding, at least not yet, it sure hurt like she was bleeding. "MY credibility as a criminally insane psychopath is fleeting!" he scolded. "Ivy just last week destroyed a Wayne Enterprise fuel refinery as an act of ecoterrorism, AND I -" He stopped. "YOU, can't even manage to drive a bomb from an abandoned factory to a hideout!" Joker as of late felt as if his 'friends' in the criminal fold were accomplishing their lifelong goals and actually beating Batman and he was jealous he wasn't a part of it. "I'd have blackmailed Batman, be rich, and STILL have the satisfaction of blowing up that eyesore of a skyscraper!" By this point he was tired and his throat was becoming hoarse with all the yelling and screaming. "WHAT AN INCOMPETENT BIT-" he screamed in his mind.
Joker, looking at his bloodied fist and destroyed glove, turned around to three of his henchmen who had sat there watching the whole thing. One of them was getting a little sick at the sight of this, arguably fair, torture. Joker saw this, grabbed him by the collar of his coat and stabbed his gut with a small knife he had in his pocket. "Anyone else… 'Disagree' with how 'I' choose to punish my pets?" He looked at the two men left standing. "Good". Harley lay on the ground, with a bruised eye and left cheek, whimpering and crying trying to curl into a ball thinking it'd make her disappear. "Do what you will with her, just make sure it…" The Joker chuckled. "Just surprise me! Ha!" He began to walk out then paused for a moment. "Just make sure to take the body and dispose of it. Dead bodies might make our guests think we're uncivilized brutes!" He then continued walking out the door.
~BRHHR~ The van door opened, and a lifeless Quinn was thrown out.
~BOOHK~ Her body lay limp on the side of the road in seemingly the middle of nowhere. It was a long stretch of road covered by dense forest. The two goons drove off without a second thought. Harley slipped in and out of consciousness. She was alive, but at this point, she was hoping and begging for death. Her happy disposition was replaced with self loathing and depression. Never had she felt like this. She felt alone, as her only partner and, at least as far as she was concerned, lover was gone forever. She felt cold. She looked down her body as she lay on the dirt. Her clothes were but messily thrown back on. She was just happy that the two grunts had the 'decency', she hated herself for using that word, to put her clown themed suit back on. She didn't even need to look to tell that she had a bruised rib and hickeys all up her body. She looked down to confirm her suspicions, and sure enough, there they were. They trailed down her neck to her chest and thighs. Not only had a few of her ribs bruised, but her left arm and left torso were as well. She felt broken. She felt violated. And now that she lacked someone to cling to in her life, her mental disorder forced her to also feel disconsolation and dejection. She cried. She lay half naked on the dirt, on the side of a road in the middle of nowhere, and just cried.
~caklpacKRUNCH~ Quinn could hear noises in the dark, the moon had just rose, and the scared Quinn was all alone. Face smeared with makeup and dried blood with some mud rubbed in. She partly hoped that the cold would kill her off. At least then she wouldn't feel so miserable. She relived the last few moments she had with… "Puddin". She shivered a little at the word. She couldn't believe what he had done. This wasn't the first time he beat her, but it had also never ended in him sending his goons to 'do whatever' and dump her somewhere out of sight. She cried some more. She didn't know what to do. She was confused and above all else mortified and ashamed.
Later into the night, she could almost hear his voice yelling and scolding her. She could swear she felt his fist come down on her again, but it was just her imagination. She was reliving the whole experience, when suddenly she remembered in his rantings him mentioning Ivy. "IVY! OF COURSE!" She thought. Ivy had been one of her closest friends. She chuckled. Who was she kidding, she had no 'close' or 'best friends'. Her life until now was always 'Joker this', 'Puddin that', and she had never really felt like she needed anyone else. Besides, she would be too ashamed to visit her anyways. Ivy had told her straight that Joker was bad news and that the only reason he kept her around was because she amused him. Countless times Ivy had lectured her about how something just like this would end up happening. Harley couldn't go to her. She couldn't bear to look Ivy in the face. Her hopeful and joyous thought soon returned to shame and self pity.
It was almost midnight, and the poor heartbroken Quinn girl lay freezing on the cold dirt. She was in and out of sleep as she couldn't ignore the freezing weather and rolling wind. She knew it. This was how she died. Not in some crazy explosion or cool high speed adrenaline pumped cop chase or shootout. Nope. Freezing to death in the middle of nowhere. She started to slip away again. Managing to get some shut eye.
~KRUNCH~ "AAIHHH!" She screeched. A bug had crawled onto her foot and bit her. That was it. She couldn't stay on the dirt. She knew that if she did, more creepy crawlies would crawl on her creepily. And she hated creepy crawlies. She staggered and sat up. The bruises somehow managed to hurt worse than when she first got them. She stood up aching and complaining to herself the whole time. She then had to decide to go left or right. One way had to lead her in the right direction, she pondered hopefully. She looked down and saw a flower, picked it, and hugged it. "Ivy, I know you probably can't hear this, but I reeeaaally need help right now. Which way? Right or left?" She didn't know what she expected. Maybe a little voice saying 'GO LEFT HARLEY'. But as she held the flower, a small gust of wind came, and a pedal fell off and blew in the direction of the left path (even though it was one long road, she went left from where she was standing). "Alrighty Ivy, I hopya right." She stated, almost for a second believing that Ivy was talking to her through the flower. She dropped it and started her long walk.
To her disbelief, the way she went was the right way. In about two hours she could see Gotham's skyscrapers. And an hour later entered the city. But what now? It's not like she could just call up her recluse of a friend. She also didn't remember where her hideout was. She felt overwhelmed again. What Now? She figured best place to start was the, ironically and obviously, abandoned botanical garden towards the slums of Gotham. Part of her hoped that Ivy wasn't that predictable, but the other half screamed 'please. Please be there'. She started her venture to the gardens. It was almost 4:30 in the morning by now. She was exhausted. But right now, walking was the only thing she could do, as it distracted her from Puddin and kept her from breaking down.
~BOHCBOHCBOHC~ Quinn's knocks pattered the door of the building hopefully. 'Please' she thought. 'Please open up. If there was eva a time I needed ya Red, it was now'. Nothing happened. Her hopeful attitude soon shifted into disappointment and sorrow. She slowly began backing away from the door. One step at a time, slowly by slowly. 'Please, something, anything! Stop me from leavin'. Please'. There wasn't any hope behind her whispers however. The poor clown was just trying to fool herself.