Welcome again! Nice you come around again, I feel kinda lonely here.
I knew you'd be back, dont ask me how, but I knew. You want to hear the rest of the joke.
Again, I dont blame ya.
But I have bads news. The Joker is not around now. Neither Harley. They are "busy", if you get my drift.
And no, don't even ask to go there. You won't go there to see that little show. Sorry, he likes privacy.
Sometimes.
Well, he doesn't like to be seen in the act, but he doesn't mind to be heard.
So, we are in her room. The Bitch. I take you remember her, right? The woman The Joker talked about? The woman that was preparing the bomb until The Joker started telling you a joke, and she kept being annoying and interrupting him?
Yes, you remember her.
In the very moment you start to read this, she is in her desk doing something on her laptop, typing rather quickly. But she seems to be a little...troubled
As I told ya... The Joker doesn't mind to be heard.. actually he likes to be heard. It's just his personal and subtle way to torture The Bitch.
Well... not that sublte way because they are loud. Very loud.
-ohhhhhhhhh puddin!
She rolls her ayes and mimics her-
-"ohhh Puddin" keep it quiet- she complains hitting the desk with her palm- I'm trying to do something here-
She takes her eyes from the computer. She notices you. You disturbed her so called "inner peace", and that's a problem. So she tries to ignore you. She goes back to the computer and starts typing slowly, yet every now and then she crooks her head slightly to take a look at you.
It's been ten minutes since she saw you. And she is getting jumpy. Not afraid, just disturbed by your presence. She puts the computer aside her laptop next to a pile of papers and walks to the wardrobe. She opens it and starts throwing things on the bed. Clothes, papers, CD's, shoes, books, bullets, knives...
...And a teddy bear?
Right... that's a gift from her "husband"
Whom she hasn't seen in about... three months already? Poor guy really...
I have to agree with the Joker: being her husband is a little bit of a hell.
He didn't left because he wanted to. He was kicked out.
She is searching for something in her wardrobe. Something she doesn't seem to find. She is getting frustrated.
There.
She found what she was looking for: a pack of cigarettes. Now she starts to try to find something to light one. After a few minutes and another pile of clothes thrown on the floor, she finds a lighter. She puts a cigarette in her mouth and lights it. She starts pacing around the room, trying to ignore you. She is in deep thought, probably thinking about you, your sudden appearance in her room...
-ohhhhhhh God Mistah j!
...Or the fact that she's just heard a very loud moan coming from the room beside hers. Whatever it was, she is not happy. She curses loudly and grabs the first thing she gets (which happens to be the teddy bear) and throws it to the wall, and starting to punch furiosly to the wall.
-SHUP UP! I'M TRYING TO WORK!
-Puddin'! Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh!
Well, there. Mystery solved: she's more annoyed with Harley than with you. That's good.
But she's still nervous and disturbed by you. Yet probably angrier at herself at this point. She is supposed to be a cold and collected person.
She simply can't ignore you, even if she tries to close her eyes. She feels your curiosity. She opens her eyes and walks to stand right in front of you. She is obviously angry, and she stares right into where your eyes should be.
-That's it. I'm done with the silent treatment here- she tells you seriously, standing proudly and straight- You want to talk? Ok. Tell me what or who you are.
You can't answer her, you don't have a voice.
By the way, who are you?
She takes a switchblade from her pocket and stabs you, prepared to hear you scream in pain, your warm and thick blood covering her hand...
...but the knife doesn't cut anything but thin air. She drops it out of shock.
She is astonished. You see...she touched you while trying to stab you...and she felt cold. Like putting her hand trough a block of ice. A non- material block of ice.
She is stunned. And this time...she is truly scared. She can't hurt you.
-Soo what are you?- she asks you curiously- A spectre? A ghost? Spirit of Christmas Future? Someone I killed?
She is asking you. Do you know what you are?
No, no , no, that's not the right question. You know who and what you are. Let me re-phrase that for you...
Do you know what you are in this place?
It doesn't matter. You don't have a voice, and it's not like she actually wants an answer.
She wants you out of her bedroom.
The Bitch collects herself, kneels to grab the switchblade again and takes a deep breath.
-If you are someone I killed and you want me to regret it, let me tell you that I don't have any regrets about anything I've done- she tells you seriously- And I probably don't remember you anyway- she shrugs- So you can leave and haunt someone else.
Oh, sorry, I just realized that you can't see her…you don't know what she looks like! After all, you are reading this, not actually seeing it. Let me apologize about that:
Sorry.
She has-
-Stop staring at me, it's rude!- she complains
Yes...while I was trying to describe her, you were staring at her. And she is right! It's rude!
-Why am I talking to you anyway?- she puts a hand in her face, frustrated- Great. Just great, I'm talking to the wall and asking it to stop staring at me- she mutters to herself- I'm feeling stalked by my own wall.-
She takes a deep breath and sits in her bed. She still has the cigarette in her left hand, its burning slowly. She stopped smoking at the very moment she decided to talk to you.
-And now...I'm starting to feel your curiosity- she talks to herself, disbelieving- OK. Even though you're not at the top of the 'Strangest Things I've Seen, Heard or Felt List'- she point at you- you are still plain disturbing.
Wow, she accepted to be disturbed, that's something new!
- Please leave- she smiles at you warmly- I have work to do tonight.
But you aren't going to leave just because she says so, right?
Of course not, you're here for enterteiment, and annoying the Bitch... well, is not as entertaining as annoying The Joker, but beggars cant be choosers.
-Ok. You won't leave until I tell you something- she complains frustrated- OK, that's perfectly fine. Some kind of thing has just popped up into my bedroom while I'm working expecting me to finish a joke I didn't even start- she sighs annoyed- And I'm talking to it. Perfect, just perfect. This is exactly what I needed in my life: a curious ghost that wants me to tell a joke. Me. A joke. That's ridiculous. Really.
She starts giggling nervously, trying not to take the fact that you are here very seriously. She throws the knife next to the teddy bear, realizing that it's useless against you.
She is lowering her defenses. Outstanding. You have accomplished the impossible: you made her feel vulnerable. Remarkable. Impressive...
She stops. Takes a deep breath and looks at you a little scared... but not scared of you. Scared of herself. She lost control of her emotions.
-Ok. I need Harley to get me something to sleep until you decide to leave.
-Ohhhhh puddin!
-Damn.
So concerned about you that she forgot about that.
She grabs a knife and throws it to the wall furiously.
-And Harley is with The Joker. In his bedroom- she roles her eyes disgusted- Doing things I probably don't want to know or think about-
Her cigarette's burnt completely by now. She dumps what is left of it in the corner. She has decided to overcome her fear of you.
She smiles at you. A pleasant smile. Let me warn you... she'll try to...
-Let's do something- she tells you nodding courtly- You want some entertainment. Someway...you made your point crystal clear- she states- I understand you need for fun- she continues, putting a hand in her chest and smiling at you- I really do.
...sympathize with you. That's more like her.
-...But I'm not an entertainer, I don't think I'm capable of saying something funny without The Joker by my side. I'm sorry- she apologizes- Who happens to be with Harley right now... – She grins to you with fake happiness- I have an idea!
She gets up of the bed and walks toward you. She's still smiling. She winks to you in complicity. She is trying to make you feel at ease with her, and thank whatever deidity you're not corporal because if that was the case she would have already shoot you.
- So...between you me and the wall, they are having sex- she lifts an eyebrow mockingly- Two clowns having sex. Sex is fun. Clowns are fun. Funny mix- she laughs bitterly- You can go there, I'm sure they are having fun, and they won't mind being seen. I can hear them all the time and they don't seem to mind!- she displays a fake smile, full of hatred- So, let me show you the door-
She gets up and opens the door. She stays there with a frozen smile for more than two minutes waiting for you to leave.
And you don't.
Well, I know you want to go and see some "action" but no, I won't let you. This is not some porn movie and this is rated PG-13. Sorry. You are staying here.
-Ok. So you won't leave. That's Ok. You'll get tired, because as far as I know, you can't read my mind and I'm not saying anything.
She is right: you can't read her mind...but she won't stop talking. If she has the opportunity to... express herself, she will. Even if it's with some ghost.
She loves hearing her own voice, narcisist bitch.
-Don't insist. I'll do my job and probably smoke a cigarette. But I know you want to hear the joke. It's understandable.
See? She won't shut up!
-... And I don't think you are very comfortable standing there and I would be a terrible host for leaving you standing there until they finish. You can leave my room and wait for The Joker in the...living room, if you want to call it that way. There's a fridge there, if you want a drink or something to eat. There's also a sofa and a can wait there, I don't mind. Let me open the door for you-
...and she does it all over again. But she gets extra points for trying a new approach!
But you still won't leave.
After two minutes, she gets tired and slams the door. She faces you again, any trace of a friendly smile gone. She is livid.
-I've been nice and you are not leaving as I politely asked you to. I tried to negotiate, I tried to give you an alternative, and I also tried to make you fell comfortable in my own house and you are still not obeying me. I do hate when people don't do as I say. Only one person can get away with that.
Uh oh.
-And that person... it's not you.
That's a bad sign. You've made her angry. Be thankful that you are not corporeal, she's just grabbed her favorite...spoon. Yes a spoon. Last time when she said that spoons were great weapons, she was dead serious.
And she's creative when it comes to her oh so beloved spoon... I'll show ya how she uses that later.
-Ok. I'm a resourceful person- she says waving the spoon in front of you, her eyes malisius- if you want to keep your eyes in their rightful places...
Poor woman... she's forgotten something.
-... you don't have eyes. You don't have a body...
...and she has just realized that little detail.
-And you are not leaving.
Bingo!
- I'm threatening a ghost...with a spoon- she shakes her head, looking at her spoon- I'm ridiculous. Hey! Isn't that what you want?- she asks you with a cheerful tone- Some entertainment? I've done something really stupid. Stupid is fun- she states- TA DA! So, there you had tonight's entertainment- she says relieved- You can leave.
This was interesting enough?
Nah.
You stay in her room.
-You won't leave. Ok, You win. I won't finish the joke nor tell you about that. The Joker is good at doing that, I'm just very eloquent and dramatic. A good actress. He's the comedy. I'm the drama. That's the way it works.
Well, that's something. No, she won't tell you about the joke—she's right, she is not good at jokes. But she can say a good monologue.
Or make a heck of a dramatic scene when she needs to do it... I'll never stop saying it: Her husband, poor guy.
I know, a monologue is not as good enough as a joke.
But maybe...she can say something interesting.
-Today I'm talking about obsession. You are stalking us, so you may be obsessed with us? I don't know. But I feel like talking about that particular issue today.
...maybe not. But if she approaches this in the right way... she may say something good enough.
-Sooo, obsession. People, I mean normal people, makes it sound like something bad, something sick, twisted. But they don't realize...that they are living with obsession every single day since the very minute they were born. It's natural. It comes with being a normal human being. Because that's the truth, everybody is obsessed with something. And normal people...they usually call that "love". It seems that the word "obsession" doesn't sound as good as "love". It's much better to hear "I love you" than "I'm obsessed with you". But is just a matter of word choice. Deep down, it's the same. Just the same. Shakeaspeare, my good, old and dead friend would say: "What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell just as sweet?". You can call it whatever you want, but obsession is just that, no matter if you want to make it sound nice by calling it love.
It will be interesting. She will talk about The Joker and Harley.
Maybe even about her own husband.
-Let me make a clear example. There, you have Harley, having sex with the man she loves. She is happy, I can assure you that. But...she is his slave. He does what he wants with her. If he says "jump" she asks "how high, puddin?". He beats her, kicks her out at least once a month, and she always comes back when he calls her. Sometimes, if he forgets to call her, she begs him to let her in again. Like a dog. And I can assure you that one kiss from his mouth is worth all the pain and humiliation of the world for her.
Another clear example? My so called husband. He thinks he can control me, he can't. Actually, he's just a female version of Harley, but at least he's... well, intelligent and interesting. I can have a good time with him talking about books, and if I ask him whatever I want, he'll do it without complains. Actually, he let's himself to be beaten almost to death for me... but I'm a good person and saved him. Now I'm just waiting for him to... – she smiles malisiously- recover and bring him back home.
Now she is more relaxed. She takes out another cigarette, lights it and sits in her bed.
-The Joker owns Harley. But it's not because she's stupid, no, not at all. She's a psychiatrist. That, let me tell you, takes years of study. Not only that, she was good enough to get the Joker's case. So, she is an intelligent person.
Now she smirks and crooks her head to the left.
-But she has one little problem. She's in love-what I call obsessed. So obsessed that she became blind. When she got obsessed with Jay over there, she gave herself to him in a silver plate, her body, her soul, her mind. She gave him power over her, because she can't stand to be apart from him. She would die of sadness one day when he gets tired of her. I know for sure that when that happens, she'll kill herself. She'll commit suicide. I know it, it's obvious. She can't live without him, without her owner. She is his slave and she doesn't plan to leave. She doesn't want freedom. She wants him.
And my husband... well, he's afraid of be left alone. As long as I'm around and he knows for sure I'm still alive, he's happy. Doesn't mind where he is, he's happy if he knows I'm safe. He's in some twisted way my slave. He's obsessed with me, but he knows "for sure" that I wont leave him. But he's afraid of me commiting suicide if he's not around... I guess my act was too convincing and he started to think that I'm actually suicidal when I'm far from that.
Two or three tears and he's licking my shoes as if he were a lapdog, asking me to please not leave him alone.
The point is, that when you become obsessed with something, you give that object, that person, power. It depends of the level of your obsession. You become a slave to it. Slave of everything you love. And then normal society makes rules to protect allll those things people love. From your house and your money to your children and family. Thousands of rules. And when someone breaks one rule...all the society condemns you. But you just dared to get some freedom. To not be obsessed. To not be deluded. That's all you did.
She gets up of the bed, combs her hair with her free hand and smiles.
-And so here we are. Three people that broke The Rules, living in a warehouse. We are not obsessed with anything. We don't care about rules: we've broken almost all of them…and we did it for fun. We killed, we stole, we kidnapped, and we don't even have a clear target. Everything that moves is our possible target. We don't care, we just want to have fun. Just the three of us.
But...
...But Harley...even if she is closer to freedom than most people are, she still has One Rule: She is still slave to someone...The Joker. So, she is not as free as she thinks. She is not his equal. And that's why he gets…bored of her. She does as she is told and she never asks why.
Just like any of our goons. Just like any of them. And yet…she is not as disposable as them. She is special, because she is more intelligent than any other goon that works for us. She has an specific purpose to our little...organization. She's a doctor, and we can't just hire a doctor, we need a doctor who is loyal to truly take care of us. She has our lives in her hands just for that and she doesn't realize.That's why after five years she is still alive. Because in some way we need her and it would be hard to get a replacement. That's why we make her feel like she belongs to us…
But she doesn't.
She isn't one of us, but neither one of them. She is stuck in the middle of the road. She won't break free, she doesn't have the intention of doing it. She has potential. But she doesn't want to use it. That would break her One Itty Bitty Rule.
The Joker and I... we are not like the rest of the people. We are different. We don't get obsessed over anything. We don't get attached to the point of obsession.
Don't get me wrong, it's not that we are not capable of caring or love. In fact, I believe that we are the only people that understand the true meaning of love in the whole world. You see... there are certain things we care about, even love. He certainly loves a fight with The Batman. He loves it. But...contrary to what he makes him think...he can actually live without him, he won't die if one day the guy decides to hang up the cape and never come back. He'll move on and have fun with any other… he can find something else. He won't die. He is not obsessed with the idea of a fight with him, so he's not the Batman's slave.
And me...well, I love blackmail. Just love it. I love to see someone desperate trying to get what I want, even if it's ridiculous and unreachable, in record time. I love to see someone begging me not to tell, not to hurt them, not to kill them. Everybody has a secret…and I probably know it. At least guess it.
I have certain love for my husband, but I don't love him as a wife, more like a friend. He's an interesting person, we can hold a nice conversation once in a while, and I like feeling loved. That's why he's not dead and I saved him. I.. Well, I rather not think about it because I'll get crazy.
Her husband... she doesn't want to admit she actually has feelings for him. It's a complicated issue for her...
She prefers thinking she has no feelings whatsoever... lie, self delutional. She has feelings.. but she will never admit it.
Everybody has something to hide from the rest of the world. I even know who the Batman is. But I don't go there because I respect that the Joker is having fun with Bruce Wayne. He knows, but we don't want to scare him, so we pretend not to know. But I think he's intelligent enough to have figured out that we know.
And why are we living together? Because we love each other. But we are free. If one day he dies, I'll know how to live without him. And viceversa. I can even live with the fact that other woman is having sex with him in this very moment and I don't mind. Not at all. He's not mine. And I'm not his. We are free. We are equals. And that's why... we love each other. Why we can love each other.
Calling that relationship love is blasphemy. Seriously... if those two loved each other... it's been years since that happened.
So, there. Real love makes you free. You are happy when you have it but you don't need it to live. You can overcome fear of loss, you can overcome jealousy, you can overcome sadness.
If one day the object of your love's gone forever...you can accept it. And move one. You are happy, always happy.
You become fearless. You become invincible.
On the other hand...Obsession only makes you a slave, it chains you to the object you love. You can't live without it and you'll die when you lose it. You will feel pain. And sadness. It will be hard to recover from that. You may recover, but not without pain. Obsession...makes you miserable. And if your obsession is deep enough, like Harley's... it may kill you.
When the Joker says that he smiles all the time and he means it, it's the truth. It's not just a Glasgow smile. It's a symbol. He is happy all the time. So am I.
So, you can say that we are the happiest people in earth. Freedom. Real freedom. That's what it takes to make Heaven in Hell.
At this point she is smiling from ear to ear. She truly loves hearing her own voice, even if she is fooling herself.
Fredom: what a lie, she built herself a cage of made up of lies and she's locked into it along with the Joker.
And they threw away the key far away from their reach.
Now you hear a door opening, and steps. She also hears it.
-oh puddin, you are the greatest, that was soooo gooddd, I love you puddin, I love you soooo much!
The smile on her face vanishes. She rolls her eyes and lies down on her bed.
-Ok, hmm leave me alone, Harley. I have important things to do.
-But Mistah J-!
You can hear his hand slap against her face. After a brief moment of silence, you can hear a door closing slowly and a faint cry.
She smiles and turns her face to you again.
-Anyway, there you have the Joker SuperStar. In person. Go and haunt him. I need some sleep.
I know you want to go and see him, that's why you came here anyway. But this is enough for today. It will be much funnier if you see the joke rather than hear it. It will not be the same joke he was telling you the other day, but I can assure you it will be much funnier.
Don't worry, you'll get the chance to hear the rest of it... someday. But not soon. Not yet.
They certainly talk a lot about chaos and slavery... they talk too much for their own good. As if they can control them. They can't.
They think they know how Chaos works... they have no idea. They may know more than most mortals... but they're still that: mortals.
Not like me, not like us, the ones who live up here...
Chaos... she's what I call a real bitch. I wouldn't mess up too bad with her. Not in a million years...
Let them see how Chaos truly works... and you can witness it just having fun. Go get popcorn to watch this "movie".
For them... it will be their personal hell.
New second chapter! I didnt chage it too much, but I'll be updating once a day a new chapter. The following chapters will chage a little, but not the plot itself. I'll give Harley more space and hopefully make it funnier (and more dramatic)
Thanks for the reviews! If you're a new reader, please leave a review and tell me what you think about it. If you've been reading this, tell me what you think about the new additions, I hope I'm making it better^^
Nezzie (who's a little depressive... so help me out and leave a review to cheer me up :P)