Beware the Sparrow
"I want a nice, clean game, everyone!" shouted Dr. Leland, head of Arkham Asylum, as she stood with a football in her hands and a whistle around her neck, studying the less than enthusiastic inmates gathered on the playing field in front of her.
"Dr. Leland, I must protest - this is form of cruel and unusual punishment," spoke up Jervis Tetch.
"Yes, quite," agreed Jonathan Crane. "Mandatory sporting events are unconstitutional – they require skills that some of us do not possess, like speed and agility and athleticism…"
"Look, I don't have a choice – this has been mandated from above," interrupted Dr. Leland. "The new mayor's some kinda health nut, and he believes that fresh air and exercise can cure anything."
"Indeed? And in what prestigious medical school did he formulate this brilliant hypothesis?" asked Crane, sarcastically.
"Are you implying that politicians should consult specialists before they make their policies?" asked Tetch. "Careful, Jonathan – that's very close to nonsense."
"Yes, I know it's crazy to live in a world where uninformed idiots make decisions that affect us all, but that's the world we live in," sighed Dr. Leland. "And I'm interested in keeping my job in it, so we're all just going to go along with it. Ok?"
She looked around. "Speaking of crazy, where's the Joker? And Harley Quinn?"
"I'll see if I can find them," volunteered Crane, eager for any excuse to get out of the game, however temporarily. He hurried off the field and back into Arkham Asylum, entering his cell and looking around desperately for something he could make a bomb out of.
"Dammit, where are those emergency explosives?" he muttered to himself, hunting under the bed. "This is exactly the sort of thing I keep them around for!"
He sighed in frustration, then snapped his fingers. "The janitor's closet will have some chemicals with which I can improvise a rudimentary bomb!" he exclaimed, racing out of his cell. He threw open the door to the closet, froze, and then let out a shriek of horror that was heard all the way outside.
"What the hell?!" demanded Dr. Leland, racing inside with the rest of the inmates following her.
"Geez, Johnny, learn to knock!" snapped the Joker, hastily pulling up his pants as Harley hurried to button up her top, blushing. "Not all of us are pathetic losers who don't need any private time, y'know!"
"Sorry you had to see that, Johnny," said Harley, blushing bright red. "I'm so embarrassed! But me and Mr. J were hiding in here to get outta the football game, and then I tripped over a broom in the dark and accidentally elbowed him in the chin, so he punched me in the face, and then one thing led to another, and…"
"Never mind, Harley, just get outside!" snapped Dr. Leland. "I'm not letting anyone get outta this game for any reason! If I make exceptions for one of you, I'll just have to make exceptions for all of you!"
"Jonathan, are you all right?" asked Tetch, studying his friend who looked pale and shivering.
"No, I am not!" he gasped. "Good God, it was…horrific! The most terrifying thing I've ever seen!"
"C'mon, Johnny, I'm big but I wouldn't call me terrifying!" chuckled Joker, slapping him on the back. "Though maybe it's scary in comparison to how small yours is, huh?"
"Oh, do be quiet, Joker!" snapped Crane. "Have you no shame?"
"Nope," replied Joker. "Or I wouldn't be having a quickie with my girlfriend in a janitor's closet!"
"Sometimes I wonder if that man's mind is like perpetually falling down a rabbit hole and hitting everything on the way down," commented Tetch, as they followed Joker back to the football field.
"God knows," retorted Crane. "I don't think there's any form of psychoanalysis on earth that can make sense of him. Not that I really have any faith in the psychoanalytical process, despite having taught it. Honestly, it sometimes seems like the concepts of psychology were just invented by lunatics. Take the Oedipus complex, for example. It's utterly preposterous to presume that all children want to sleep with their mother and murder their father. Well, admittedly murdering my father might have been justified, but I would never in a million years have wanted to sleep with my mother. I suspect my father only did it once. Hideous woman."
"Guess you get your looks from your mother, huh, Craney?" chuckled Joker. "Boy, your father must have been disappointed. Goes through all that effort of doing an ugly dame, and it results in you. Surprised he didn't slit his wrists, really. Still, guess he got more action than you ever have. You haven't even done an ugly dame, have you?"
"I repeat, do be quiet, Joker," snapped Crane. "It's bad enough that I have to suffer this ridiculous sporting event – I don't want to put up with your sniping comments as well."
"Call it payback for walking in on me and Harley's playtime," chuckled Joker. "Speaking of playtime, let's play ball!" he said, grabbing the football from Dr. Leland and throwing it at Crane. "See if you can get it to the end zone and score, not that you've ever done that before!" he laughed.
"I want the guys on one side, and the girls on the other," said Dr. Leland, gesturing to opposite ends of the field.
"So which side does that put Johnny on?" chuckled Joker. "Not that he ain't already in the Cranezone."
"What on earth is the Cranezone?" demanded Crane.
"It's that thing Harley's put you in," retorted Joker. "Like the Friendzone, only lamer. You've been Cranezoned!"
Crane was about to throw the ball at Joker's head, but he was interrupted, which was probably a good thing, since his throwing skills were not particularly impressive.
The interruption was a huge explosion which took out most of the wall surrounding Arkham. As the smoke gradually cleared, a figure emerged through the gap in the wall onto the playing field, a figure that was unfamiliar to most of the people present.
She was a beautiful blonde woman, buxom and glamorously dressed in a long, strapless, low-back, flowing red gown with a long slit up the leg, stiletto red high heels, and a red fur cape around her neck. She wore a red flower in her pinned-up hair and held a cigarette holder in elbow-length, red gloved hands, which she put to her lips, inhaling deeply and exhaling a long, flowing cloud of smoke.
"Hello, J-man," she murmured, smiling smugly at the Joker. "It's been too long."
"Aw, no," muttered Joker. "Not you again."
"Mr. J? Who's this?" asked Harley, instantly jealous.
"I think we're all wondering that," said Dr. Leland. "You're not a Gotham regular, are you?"
"No, it's been a long time," murmured the woman. "But today the Sparrow's back in town."