Down the Avenue

A/N: Time of Story: This is the time span before Batman catches Harley but after Harley jumps into the chemicals.

If I pray really tight,

Get into a fake bar fight,

While I'm walking down the avenue.

The Joker surveyed the bar one last time. The chairs were old, the tables were scratched, and the bar itself was covered in grease and other mysterious fluids. Harley Quinn boredly leaned against the wall to the entrance of the bar.

"You promised me a good bar," the Joker said harshly to a chubby man nonchalantly sitting back in one of the chairs in the bar.

Harley sighed impatiently. When her Puddin' had told her he was taking her out to a bar, this is not what she had in mind. She thought he meant on a date, not to go inspect a bar someone had offered to sell him.

The man shrugged, "If you don't like what you see, you can go find another bar. I can sell to someone else."

Harley knew this was going to be a long night. This man clearly did not research who he had offered to sell his bar to.

"You see," the Joker said. "It's not really the bar that's making me upset."

"Oh, really?" the man said, incredulously.

"You are."

"And why is that?"

The Joker slowly walked up to the man, clearly making him uncomfortable. He slowly circled the man's chair until he was standing directly behind the man. The Joker put one of his hands on one of the man's shoulders.

"What are you - ?" the man started.

In a sudden move, the Joker smoothly pulled a golden knife out of his inside coat pocket with his free hand and held it against the man's flabby neck. The man stiffened. The Joker leaned forward so his breath faintly tickled the top of the man's head, causing the man's hair to sway with the Joker's every breath.

"You lied to me."

"W-what?"

"You said you were selling a nice bar," the Joker said in a voice as smooth as butter. "But that isn't true, is it?" he asked, his voice turning sharp. He pressed the knife a little harder into the man's neck.

"I don't think it's true at all," Harley said. She walked over to the bar and ran a finger over it, "This place is filthy!"

"Well I didn't mean to –" the man began fearfully.

"Didn't mean to what?" the Joker asked.

"Tell us the truth?" Harley said mockingly.

"Look," the man said nervously. "I didn't mean any harm. Can we just forget this ever happened? I'll never mention it to anybody!"

Harley laughed. She walked over to the man and knelt in front of his chair, her eyes never leaving his.

"Did you hear that, Puddin'?"

"I sure did," the Joker answered with a smile.

"I don't think he knows who he's dealing with," she said, intensely staring into the man's eyes. "Do you?" she pointedly asked the man.

The man attempted a gulp, which was extremely difficult with a knife pressed against his throat.

"You've never heard of my Puddin' before?" Harley asked the man.

"Wh-who?"

"Oh, Puddin'!" Harley said in fake surprise, finally looking up at the Joker. "I think he needs to be taught a lesson."

"I agree," the Joker said darkly.

"After we're finished with you," Harley said caressing the man's sweaty face. "You will never forget my Puddin'." She paused and stood up and looked down at the man darkly, "In fact, after we're done with you, no one will ever forget my Puddin'."

Harley Quinn's and the Joker's laughter mixed with the man's screams created an eerie blend of sound that echoed through the bar and bounced down the avenue into the darkness of the night.