Rabbit Hearts
7. This is a Gift.
"This—Is—What—You—Get—When—You—Touch—ah! Things that don't belong to you!" Each word was punctuated with the solid smack of steel as Harley slammed the hammer over and over again into the thug's head.
The Joker stood back, arms crossed, red lips pressed into an amused smirk as he watched her straddling the now very dead young man who was only recognizable by twisted cornrows now matted with blood and brain matter. She'd more or less torn off his face with each blow from the hammer—the effects of her rage leaving only a twitching mass behind.
He watched Harley sit back and look around the room as if coming out of a trance. They were in the kitchen at the Iceberg Lounge having a meeting with members of the mob, who now sat frozen in their seats around a steel table, staring with open fear etched across their hardened faces. Pretty little Harley known mostly as the Joker's side kick and girlfriend with a touch of madness to her cadence.
The Joker thought she couldn't have looked more beautiful straddling a quivering dead man without a face, her curling blonde hair flecked with bits of bone and brain matter, the diamond chandelier earrings he'd picked out for her glowing against her painted face. She wore a red dress with a skirt that gently frilled around her thighs like an ice skating costume. A tophat sat jauntily atop her blonde curls, giving her the look of some kind of deranged yet doll like circus performer. Her lips formed a perfectly apprehensive 'O' and the Joker knew she was starting to regret loosing the plot so he cleared his throat, getting her attention.
"Harley, you silly bunny," he said affectionately as she stood up and glided towards him, taking her place at his side, her willowy body draped across his shoulder.
"Sorry, darling," she sighed dramatically, adjusting her top hat. "You know how much I hate being touched by filth." With this statement she looked around the room meaningfully as if to say how filthy she thought each member at the table was, her diamonds glittering in the florescent light.
The man now lacking a face on the floor had made the mistake of grabbing Harley's arse on his way into the room. He'd said, "Nice outfit toots," before giving her a healthy slap. Without thinking the Joker had let a knife slip from his sleeve but before he could act Harley had launched herself at the thug.
The Joker found himself snickering in a self satisfied way as Harley laid her head innocently on his shoulder, the picture of blonde cheerfulness despite the hammer swinging at her side.
"Joker, you need to keep that bitch on a leash," a very unwise member of the mob said.
Harley and the Joker both cracked up in hysterical laughter at this, hanging on one another as if desperate for something to hold on to.
Another wiser member of the group shouted, "Shut up Bernie, unless you want her wearing your balls as earrings."
"Ah, thanks Hal," Harley giggled.
"She's already got earrings," the Joker said, his tone deadly serious with a giant smirk pulling at his scars. "But I think you could—ah— do with a necklace Harl, what do you think?"
"Yes, please," she practically glowed.
With that they both skipped around to the side of the table Bernie occupied, their hands swinging happily together.
"Now—wait a second—" Bernie got out of his chair and started backing up, his hands held up in surrender. The Joker pulled out a knife and Harley wielded her hammer dramatically.
"Ready baby?" she giggled, kissing her lover's painted cheek
"Joker—" Hal said in a warning tone, though he nor anyone else made a move to save Bernie.
Harley swung the hammer hard and Bernie ducked with a shriek, expecting her to aim for his head—it clipped his shoulder though, a loud crunch echoing around the room as he fell to the floor howling in pain. The two clowns dropped down next to the thug, giggling and talking in hushed voices to one another below the din of Bernie's screams.
"What the hell, Hal? Shouldn't we do something?" Hal's security asked in a low voice as some members of the mob averted their gaze from the mess.
Hal cleared his throat. "This is like foreplay for these lunatics."
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