The Joker would admit, under duress mind you, that he was a psychotic asshole. But this, this was absolutely hilarious. Even the not-crazy people would think it was funny. Harley didn't think it was funny, but that was only because Dent had stolen her scotch.

"And the Bat!" Harvey raged, almost spilling his drink on the stained carpet, "Who the hell is he to stop all of my plans, huh? His fault that I look like this!" Harvey gestured at his face, spilling half his drink on himself.

"We all look weird," the Joker pointed out, "Hey, did I ever tell you how I got my scars?"

Harvey scowled, and looked remarkably sober for all of a minute before he resumed his rant, "Why can't we ever have a nice gang battle with the coppers huh? Why can't we ever win?"

"Cause dat would be no fun!" Harley interjected, "Othawise you'd move somewhere else if ya wanted it easier!"

"Crane tried that, remember Harls?" Joker replied, "He came back with a broken back!" The Joker started to howl with laughter.

"Oh yeah, Mista Jay!" Harley beamed at the clown, flopping dramatically onto the beat-up couch. Her blonde hair fanned over the cushions, the Joker pulled on it hard, from where he was sitting on the edge of the couch. Harley winced and quickly sat up, ripping some of her hair out.

Harvey continued ranting about his perceived injustices against himself. "I can't even get a normal job with my face looking like this!" Harvey ranted, "Nobody wants to hire an ugly person!"

"Boo hoo." Joker snickered.

Harley stole the bottle of scotch back from Harvey without him nothing and chugged half of it. She stealthily replaced it right before he turned back around. "And you!" Harvey said, pointing the glass at her and spilling more on the carpet, "You're crazy!"

"I know?" Harley replied, confused with the sudden tangent. Joker tilted his head, almost overbalancing from his perch.

"You used to be sane! A psychiatrist! Then you turned psycho just for him! HIM!" Harvey pointed the glass at the Joker and spilled the remaining booze onto the carpet. "Why does he get the pretty girls and I don't?" Harvey went to down his glass, and frowned when he realized nothing was in it. "What happened to my scotch?"

"My scotch," Harley hissed.

"Here, have another glass," Joker said hurriedly, not wanting the show to end, "Now, what was this about girls?"

"I haven't had sex in years! You fucking bastards go at like fucking bunnies whenever you get the chance! And I prefer them willing, thanks! Fucking women!" Harvey threw the glass the wall and took a long pull from the bottle.

"He's ranting about his sex life in our hideout," the Joker hissed in Harley's ear.

"I know," she hissed back, "Wanna have a threesome?"

The Joker gave this due consideration. "Maybe later, when he's sober. Harley, do we have a camera?"

"No, you broke the last one." Harley replied, "Should I get one?"

"No." Joker said after a beat, "Don't wanna have to break you out of Arkham."

Harley gave him a loud smooch. This attracted Harvey's attention. "You gonna have sex? Right now?"
"Why, wanna join in?" They asked in unison.

To their delight, he paused for several minutes, going from thoughtful, to disgusted, to semi-sober. "I'm too drunk for this," he said.

Joker sniggered, Harley laughed delightedly.

Harvey squinted. "Did you hear that?"

"Hear what?" Harley questioned.

"Thought I heard something." Harvey said, furrowing his eyebrows. "Like someone walking around upstairs."

"We'll shoot them if they come downstairs." Joker dismissed.

"Bud 'n' Lou haven't had a good meal in a while," Harley continued.

"Feed them to the dogs!" Joker howled, and started on another laughing fit. Harley and Harvey ignored him.

"Think it's the Bat?" Harvey asked.

"Either him, Nightwing or the Hood. Maybe all three with Baby Bird too." Harley shrugged, unconcerned.

Another thud, audible to everyone this time. The Joker threw a knife at the ceiling. Harley pulled a gun out from somewhere- Harvey didn't want to think about where she pulled it from- and started to watch the stairs. Harvey did the same. The Joker flopped back against the couch.

Two gas canisters rolled down the stairs.

"Fuck!" Harley yelped and dove towards another room, "Deathstroke!"

Joker showed remarkable speed and agility and rolled off the couch with a twist that had him on his feet and dove for the same room with Harvey close behind him. Harley slammed the door shut and stuffed the crack with clothes- they had fled to their shared bedroom. "You pissed off Deathstroke!"

"No shit," Harley snapped.

"We, kinda, maybe stole a hit?" Joker clarified.

"A hit?" Harvey yowled, still drunk, and heavily under the influence. Mind, Harley had the good shit. The really good shit. The kind of Scotch that could- if you drank the whole bottle- take up to a year to sober up. Harvey was already looking at several weeks of AA meetings.

Bullets ripped their way through the wall. The Joker was unimpressed, seeing as none of them had even been clipped. The Addams Family would have been delighted to have him as a relative. Deathstroke fired again, this time clipping Harvey, who gritted his teeth and pressed on the wound to stem the bloodflow. Both Harley and the Joker were climbing out the window- they valued keeping life and limb. As long as they weren't bored. Then they would go terrorize Hell.

Harvey decided to join them.

Hell, it wan't like his night couldn't get any worse.

It did. It ended in Arkham, but that's another story for another time. Perhaps Harvey will tell it when he sobers up and stops glaring at me like that, it's terrifying. Hey Joe, wanna work my shift?

-THE END-

The room is an utter mess, the laptop lying in the so-called eye of the storm, on the unmade bed. The man that pushes up the door after the author leaves to get lunch and a potty break is dressed in a snazzy suit, pale skin, and a very familiar red smile. He cackles before looking around. When he sees nobody else is in the small apartment, he snickers to himself before heading straight to the laptop.

"Harvey," he remarks to what seems like thin air, "Is a depressing drunk. Oughta sober up and spread holiday cheer!"

It's sunny outside. It's also early May.

The man frowns. "It's mid-December. And raining."

Outside, the sky crackles warningly before going back to being horrendously sunny. He rolls his eyes before booting up the laptop and clicking on a document labeled "Sparklebutt 12." He smirks.

-HOW IT ALSO ENDED-

Joker and Harley get laid, because they weren't caught by Batsy like Two-Face.

-END OF THAT-

The Joker laughs again, before rigging a canister of Joker Venom to the bedroom door, as well as the front door before leaving. After he leaves, both canisters explode with nothing in them but fresh flowers. Outside the building, he stops and narrows his eyes.

"This is WAR, Foxy," he harrumphs. He strides away, not noticing the shiny blue gum at the bottom of his shiny purple-green shoes. Fox snickers from the shadows and enters the apartment complex. War indeed.