"Puddin', I don't mean to criticize, but didn't you kinda do this scheme already?" asked Harley Quinn, slowly.
"That was in Gotham City," retorted Joker. "This is in Central City. It's a completely different ballpark, Harley."
"Yeah, but the scheme's kinda the same," repeated Harley, nodding. "The whole talk show host thing…you had Bats tied to an electric chair that was activated by laughter, and then you pumped laughing gas into the studio so the audience would kill him by laughing, and then Catwoman showed up to save him…"
"Yeah, yeah, I remember, Harley!" he snapped. "But you don't see any laughter-activated electric chair here, do you? Or Catwoman?"
"No," admitted Harley.
"And therefore it's not the same scheme!" he snapped. "Honestly, I've been in this game a long time – you can't always be 100% original with the crimes! There's a finite number of hilarious gags out there, y'know! And Lord knows those unoriginal hacks at DC recycle old plots, as well as characters – I mean, I love this Trickster guy, but he's obviously just an attempt to milk my jolly criminal jester trademark for all it's worth…"
"We got airtime in ten seconds, puddin'," said Harley, glancing at her watch.
"Good, good, how's the hair?" asked Joker, instantly brightening as he smoothed it back.
Harley gave him a thumbs up, and then turned the camera on and around to focus it on Joker. "Good evening, Central City!" said the Joker, beaming. "No, there is nothing wrong with your television set. Do not attempt to adjust the picture. We are controlling transmission. And by we, I mean, me, the Joker, the Clown Prince of Crime! Now I know what you're thinking – he's not that Trickster guy who's always spreading smiles around this city, even though he sounds exactly like him. I'm sure that voice is identical. Well, you're not wrong. But as I told him, I'm the original prankster, the first canonically established jolly jester who's brought untold amounts of fun and laughter to an unappreciative audience in Gotham City. And now I'm here to try my hand at doing the same to you! I know you got your little hero here who's very close to your heart – we have one in Gotham too, a real pest. Though ours doesn't have the crazy freakishness that yours has. I admire you people for being able to sleep in your beds at night with that kinda super-powered psychopath on the run out there!" he chuckled.
Nobody else laughed, and Joker's eyes narrowed. "I said, the Flash is a super-powered psychopath on the run out there! Get it?! On the run!"
A few rounds of bullets suddenly fired into the audience by the Joker got them to force phony laughter, after the initial screaming, of course. Joker resumed smiling and continued.
"I mean, this Flash guy could snap at any moment, and wouldn't that be scary? A super-powered killer, capable of destroying armies in a second, and then just vanishing. The police would be powerless. Everyone would be powerless. Except for the people who know him best, who can out-think him. And you know who knows a hero best? His best villain. Not that I'm saying I'm this Flash creep's best villain – I don't even know the guy. And I suspect if we met I'd just laugh hysterically in his face – I was saying to Harley on the way here, do you think that super speed is a disadvantage in the bedroom? And good luck getting that image outta your head, folks. Anyway, like I said, I don't even know this Flash guy, but there is a guy here I do know, a guy who's my favorite hero, just like I'm his favorite villain. Ladies and gentlemen of Central City, please give a very warm welcome to my special guest and bestest pal in the world – Batman!"
Harley had to admit, her puddin' did good, fast work when he was motivated. With only twenty-four hours in which to think up, organize, and commit his crime, he had taken two of those hours to scout out TV stations in Central City, two hours to plan a raid on one and take hostages, an hour break for lunch, and then an hour to send a broadcast signal out to Gotham City's news networks, informing their media, and obviously Batman, who would undoubtedly be monitoring them, that he was currently residing in Central City and challenging the Dark Knight to bring him home before he could harm Central City's citizens. It had taken Batman four hours to fly over, which gave Mr. J four hours to plan a trap for him – two hours to scout out a good location, and two hours to build it. Right on schedule, Batsy arrived, and walked right into the trap, which knocked him unconscious with a boxing glove gun to the back of the head, courtesy of the Trickster's toy warehouse, which he had allowed Joker to take what he wanted from so they were on an equal footing – fair was fair.
It took Joker and Harley another two hours to tie up Batman and drag his unconscious form back to the TV station, just in time for the late night talk show. Or at least, what would have been the late night talk show had not Joker taken control, tying up the hostages and placing them in the studio audience.
And now he approached the chair set up in the middle of the studio, to which Batman was tied and gagged and looking very angry. "Bats, I'd let you say a few words to the audience, but I know you ain't the chatty type," said Joker, taking a seat next to him. "So it's kinda funny that you're on a chat show, really. But all the great late night talk show hosts, from Ed Sullivan to Johnny Carson, have made talk shows not just about talk. They're about all kindsa entertainment, vocal and visual. And we have a very special visual gag planned for you later on in the show, involving a straightjacket, a water tank, and a buncha piranhas. I call it the Death of a Hundred Frowns. Because piranhas frown, y'know, they can't smile."
"Puddin', I told you, if you hang him upside down, he'll see their little frowns as little smiles…" began Harley from behind the camera.
"No comments from the peanut gallery!" snapped Joker, furiously. He smiled at Batman. "Sorry for the interruption – some people just don't know when to keep their traps shut. But before we get the main event, I'd just like to serenade you, Bats, with a special song just for you, a song that I think pretty much defines our relationship. Harley, the music, please," he said.
Harley left the camera briefly to start the backing track, and toss a microphone at Joker. He caught it, and then put his arm around Batman and began singing:
"It must have been cold there in my shadow,
To never have sunlight on your face.
You were content to let me shine, that's your way.
You always walked a step behind.
It might have appeared to go unnoticed,
but I've got it all here in my heart.
I want you to know I know the truth, of course I know it.
I would be nothing without you.
Did you ever know that you're my hero,
and everything I would like to be?
I can fly higher than an eagle,
'Cause you are the wind beneath my wings."
Harley had zoomed the camera in on Batman's enraged face for the rest of the song, but it never came. Joker opened his mouth to continue, when he suddenly shut it, and a strange look came over his face. His smile fell and his eyes suddenly went blank. He dropped the microphone, and then headed for the door at the back of the studio.
"Puddin'? Where you going? We got dead air!" exclaimed Harley. "Puddin'! Puddin'!"
But he didn't respond – he didn't seem to hear her. He just opened the door and walked out.
Harley stared after him, stunned, and then her improvisational skills kicked in. "Uh…hi, everyone!" she exclaimed, leaping in front of the camera suddenly. "Mr. J's just gone to…to…uh…do something hilarious, and we're gonna take a little break in preparation for it! Don't touch that remote or we'll kill you! Back in five!"
She punched off the camera and then raced off after Joker. She opened the door but there was no trace of him – he seemed to have completely vanished.
Her panic rising, Harley re-entered the studio, heading over to Batman and ungagging him. "Where is he?" growled Batman.
"I…I dunno," she stammered. "This wasn't part of the gag – he was meant to sing to you and then dump you in that water tank…"
Batman studied her face. "You're not lying, are you?" he murmured.
She shook her head. "He…he'd never stop a joke halfway through, and he'd never just abandon you here all tied up and helpless. I'm really worried, Bats. Something awful must have happened to him."
Batman nodded slowly. "You untie me and release these hostages, and I'll help you find him," he muttered. "But then you're both going back to Gotham."
"Suits me – I hate this dump," said Harley, hurrying to untie him. "Mr. J only came here 'cause Luthor sent him to stop the Trickster from interfering in Injustice League business…"
"The Trickster has never been a threat to the Injustice League," interrupted Batman. "The Flash keeps him pretty much under control here. He causes some mischief now and then, but he's basically harmless."
"Yeah, he's like a more crap version of Mr. J, all right," agreed Harley. "But what are you saying, Bats?"
"I'm saying the Trickster was never the target," muttered Batman. "This whole thing was a setup. For the Joker."