Pamela Isley was irritated. She hated Robinson Park. Robinson Park was nothing but a plant ghetto. 10 blocks surrounded on all sides by luxury high-rise buildings from which rich imperialistic human pigs could gawk down their noses at the menagerie into which they had "resettled" the surviving native flora of Gotham. It was a little more than a Potemkin village built at vast expense: attractive at first, but deceptive and ultimately lethal, with high death rates from malnutrition and contagious diseases, and it ultimately served as a way-station to the incinerators and the landfill (in that order).
Pamela thought of almost everything in terms of total warfare (winning was everything was it not? and it didn't matter how you did it). It was not an accident of chance that her favorite book was II Principe (The Prince); the political treatise by Florentine public servant and political theorist Niccolò Machiavelli (She found it hilariously funny, it was like Monty Python meets Dr Doom).
Despite her personal feelings about the place, Pamela understood that Robinson Park afforded her the unique ability to move as swift as a wind, stay as silent as forest, attack as fierce as fire and undefeatable defense like a mountain. It was important in uncertain times like these to be able to defend existing positions until you can advance them and from her business continuity site in the wine cellar of the restaurant next to the picturesque lake in the very heart of Robinson Park, Pamela Isley could wait until the cows came home or at the very least enjoy a glass or two of some very good Bollinger in the meanwhile (the restaurant had a very well stocked cellar, and it was in Pamela's own personal interest to keep it that way).
Pamela was quite pleased that she had let Harvey "Two Face" Dent talk her (some time back) into taking over the establishment from Oswald "Penguin" Cobblepot. F&B wasn't exactly Pamela Isley's preferred line of interest (that being urban redevelopment, corporate sabotage and supporting extremist environmental causes). But Cobblepot was in a hurry to sell (He needed to raise liquidity fast; word was that he had been burnt in some insane ponzi scheme). And the price was right (Cobblepot was willing to throw in lock, stock and barrel and it really was a prime location). So in the end Harvey Dent had walked away from the bargaining table with his usual 5% all round stuffed in his breast pocket and Pamela Isley was left holding the lease to the most romantic restaurant in Gotham.
In hindsight, that little purchase had turned into gold for Pamela Isley. While it was undeniable that the restaurant was operating at a loss (as with most chi chi fine dinning establishments in Gotham), it afforded Pamela an excellent opportunity to engage in a little corporate espionage on the side. The human data coming out of the place was incredible. On any given day, the ferns in the bar would be mapping out the continuously changing sleeping arrangements of the who's who of Gotham (all the better to blackmail with); while the orchids in the dinning area would be compiling reports on the ever bitter infighting and inbreeding cesspool of the Gotham political landscape (all the better to special interest lobby with), and the palms out in the car park would be monitoring carbon emissions to air (all the better to trade in carbon offsets with). Pamela Isley believed that a little insider trading went along very well with some very good Bollinger.
In the last 24 hours after she had ordered the evacuation of her last lair, the plants had secured the restaurant premises, successfully setup her lab equipment and gotten the phone, fax, internet connections up and running (the satellite dish was still down due to a damaged receiver unit, but they had somehow managed to dig up a cable connection for her so she could watch the news. The plants were so sweet, if only people could be 1/1000 as nice). Now that she was successfully transplanted in her new location and thriving, all Pamela Isley needed (other than another drink) was to collect what was hers and she knew just the right person to call.
"War is Hell" thought Harley Quinn grimly as she adjusted the telescopic sight of her sniper rifle, "And we are all corn chowder". From her vantage point on the roof, Harley had a clear view of the surrounding alleys. In half an hour, Harvey "Two Face" Dent's unmarked Mercedes would be in her sights. She could wait. It was going into night 4 of the Mexican standoff between Clan Bat and the Crime Lords of Gotham and Harley Quinn hadn't slept in over 72 hours, but who was counting sheep. She couldn't sleep anyway. Harley Quinn was a zombie animated by the black arts of too much sugar, caffeine, happy pills and an undead desire to get back what was hers. Pamela Isley.
Harvey Dent had taken her Pamela away. He had put Harley's heart in an olive press and squeezed all the light, joy and happiness out of it, leaving nothing but a swirling black hole of emptiness. For once in her life, Harley Quinn could appreciate Mr J's outlook on life. Laugh because life is nothing but a sweet nihilistic joke and while you are at it, you might as well take half the city with you in a big bang for the company.
Harvey Dent had used that gilded forked tongue of his on her Pamela when her Pamela was alone and vulnerable and talked her Pamela into letting him take care of her. Only that Two Face bastard was going to take care of her Pamela by selling her Pamela out to that Son-Of-a-Bat. Harley Quinn should have seen that coming a quarter horse mile and a half away only she didn't and now she needed to rectify it.
The calls from Harvey Dent's office had started coming in quick and dirty within 48 hours on the heels of that trouble with Batgirl. His people were calling Oswald "Penguin" Cobblepot's people, Waylon "Killer Croc" Jones' people and Mr J's people (namely Bongo, Harley Quinn wasn't permitted to answer the phone after that incident with the Bora Bora time share tele-marketer). Harvey's people were saying (not it was their business in any way, but out of a sense of general neighborliness); how it was a shame that Jonathan "Scarecrow" Crane had stepped on the toes of the Batman and won't it be great if everything could go back to the way it was before the Bat had his hissy fit.
Their principle (namely Harvey "Two Face" Dent) was proposing to gather all interested aggrieved parties (namely Oswald "Penguin" Cobblepot, Waylon "Killer Croc" Jones and Jack "Joker" Napier) to discuss a settlement to be negotiated by the first above mentioned principle (namely Harvey "Two Face" Dent) with the unnamed third party (namely Batman). In plain, Harvey "Two Face" Dent had the dirty on Crane and he wanted to know if it was worth anything to anyone. The only problem with this from the way Harley Quinn saw it was that Harvey Dent knew kittens. The only person who knew anything about what Crane was or was not up to was Pamela. Her Pamela. Hers. Hers. Hers.
Harley Quinn was crazy but she wasn't stupid. Harley knew that Crane (that brilliant man) needed someone with the correct expertise to distill his fear toxic (after all it was the same thing with Mr J and his hahaha gas). And in Gotham, that someone was Pamela Isley. Pamela had a knack for the exotic (And with her system of total quality management she could deliver faster and cheaper than any other hack in Gotham). And if Crane was going to do a mass hysteria exercise, Pamela would know the what, the where and the how. And Harvey Dent was going to make his 5% all round by selling her Pamela to the Bat to keep the order in Gotham.
Or that was what he thought; only thing was Harley Quinn thought different. Harley's intention (in the correct order) was to take out Harvey Dent's (1) tires; (2) hired muscle; (3) kneecap before beating what she wanted to know out of him with a tire iron. And Harley Quinn was going to enjoy every minute of it.
It was therefore fortunate for Harvey Dent that Harley Quinn got a well timed karate chop to the back of the neck while she was preoccupied with her happy thoughts. As she hit the deck out cold Harley swore that she could see the Milky Way in the blackness of space. It was just as well that she was light outs and floating with tinkle-bell over lala land; while Harley wasn't stupid, she wasn't that bright a light bulb in the lighting department either.
Pamela Isley was irritated. Selina "Catwoman" Kyle was late. You would think that if you had lunch with someone on the first and last Wednesday of every month at the same place, they would at least try to be on time. Pamela Isley was pouring herself a third (or fourth) class of Bollinger, when Selina Kyle swept into the room. She had been caught in the lunch time traffic around Robinson Park and then she couldn't find space to park that tank of hers. Selina Kyle of course had to drive a Jag.
Pamela Isley and Selina Kyle won't exactly friends, they had known each other for a number of years and their radically different personalities and outlooks on life clashed more often than not. But they were in a real sense allies. It was difficult enough being a woman in Gotham with all the old boys gunning for you without making the only other woman out here your enemy. Selina had started the ball rolling one fine day with an invitation to the new girl on the block for lunch on the first Wednesday of the month and Pamela had returned it with an invitation for the last Wednesday and they had strangely enough enjoyed each other's company enough to continue it ever since (they had bonded on enough Bollinger to drown a horse, and there was no better excuse to do it again).
"My contact at the animal shelter called, your people made them an offer they couldn't refuse. Use of the premises ex gratis for as long as they want. That's very generous of you Pamela." purred Selina as she accepted a glass of bubbly from Pamela Isley.
"I was feeling generous...........did you have any problems collecting? Pamela smiled as she called for another bottle.
Pamela was aware that one of Selina's pet interest was animal welfare (especially of the four legged feline kind) and one of the benefits of being a major player in the urban real estate market was that she was in a position to rub Selina Kyle the right way. Pamela Isley had always found Selina Kyle attractive in a catty sort of way. Pamela supposed that she always had a thing for Selina, only it was unfortunate that the woman was a raving adrenaline junkie with a kleptomania condition. They would have made a cute couple.
"Not at all. She's in the boot of the Jag. I just had the interior cleaned. Found her on a roof covered in krispy kreme with a sniper gun. She's sedated of course."
Selina was aware that one of Pamela's pet interest was self welfare (especially if it involved a crazy blonde in pigtails) and one of the benefits of being a major player in the repossession market was that she was in a position to seed Pamela Isley the right way. Selina "Catwoman" Kyle had always found Pamela Isley attractive in a leafy sort of way. Selina supposed that she always had a thing for Pamela, only it was unfortunate that the woman was a raving socially alienated misanthrope. They would have made a cute couple.
Selina Kyle could never see what Pamela found so attractive in Harley Quinn (despite the perfect tush and all). Pamela Isley could after all quite conceivable have any man or woman she wanted in Gotham. The only straight answer she ever got out of Pamela was "She makes me laugh" and that was after enough Bollinger to drown 2 horses and a carriage. Selina had been the first person to find out (from the horse's mouth) about Pamela and Harley and she remembered almost choking on her Bollinger then. But she had held her tongue and kept the peace. Truth be told, Pamela probably never saw eye to eye with her on-off thing with Mr-Tall-Dark-and-Bat Eared but Pamela had never tried to fix her up with Edward "The Riddler" Nigma for a double date with her and Harvey "Two Face" Dent unlike some other people.
"Do I want to know why she was on a roof covered in krispy kreme with a sniper gun?"
Pamela really didn't want to know, as with most instances with Harley Quinn - ignorance was bliss, knowledge meant having to deal with angry irritate people waving court papers at you. This was why she had never made a fuss when Harley decided to continue her professional career with the Joker. Pamela's insurance would never have covered Harley's collateral damage bills. Mr J on the other hand didn't believe in insurance.
"She was going to shoot Harvey Dent." intoned Selina naughtily.
Selina knew that Pamela really didn't want to know, as with most instances with Harley Quinn. Pamela Isley was a misanthrope, she couldn't deal with angry irritate people waving court papers at her, which was why Harvey "Two Face" Dent was her best friend and she was his best client.
"But Why? Harvey adores her." exhaled Pamela in mock shock making a mental note to get Harvey a nice tie with a matching bullet proof vest for his next birthday (if he lasted that long that is, Harley Quinn was getting very good with that sniper gun).
"You know as well as I do Dent gets off big time making her look bad in front of you." Selina smirked.
"See Harvey adores her." deadpanned Pamela as she drained her glass to the sound of Selina's laughter and called for yet another bottle.
Now that they had finished the foreplay, Selina "Catwoman" Kyle and Pamela "Poison Ivy" Isley got down to business; the business of selling out Jonathan "Scarecrow" Crane to Batman and drinking the entire case of Bollinger.
The mayhem continues in Chapter 5 ...............................