"Um…sweets, before we do this…can I ask you something?" asked Joker as Jeannie shut the bedroom door.
"Anything, baby," she murmured, smiling at him.
"Can you fix me a sandwich?" he asked.
She stared at him. "Sorry, I'm starving," he said. "I didn't get a chance to have dinner tonight, and Harley's a pretty terrible cook anyway. And I don't wanna be thinking about food when I should be thinking about you," he murmured, touching her face gently.
She beamed at him. "I'll make you something nice, Jack," she murmured, kissing him. "Don't go anywhere."
She left him. He listened to her footsteps disappearing down the hall and then immediately began looking around the bedroom. There were more pictures of the two of them in frames on top of the dresser and by the bed – he picked one up and studied it closely. There was something about these pictures that…wasn't right. Something about that honeymoon photo in particular that had bothered him ever since he had seen it. He had seen the picture before, fairly recently, except he hadn't been Jack Napier in it. And the woman hadn't been Jeannie. It had been Harley.
He had realized it suddenly while Jeannie was kissing him – there was a picture of him and Harley in that exact pose as their honeymoon photo, except they hadn't been on a beach. Him kissing her cheek, her in mid-laugh…it was when they had gone to that baseball game a couple months ago. The kissing camera had caught him in an uncharacteristic moment of affection. The photo had been smeared all over the ballpark, much to his annoyance, and he had been so angry revealing his tender side to the public that the image had been burned into his brain. But it was definitely the same picture as the honeymoon photo, just…changed.
He hunted around, searching under the bed and opening up the closet. He pushed the clothes aside and knocked at the back of the closet. He smiled. "Bingo," he chuckled, and he suddenly kicked hard at the wood.
It fell inward, to reveal a set of stairs with a door at the end of them. He opened this and entered a tiny room with a red light, and shelves lined with basins and chemicals. Hanging from a wire along the wall were several photos, in the process of being doctored. Photos of him and Harley, being turned into photos of Jack and Jeannie.
"Wow. And I used to think Harley was nuts," muttered Joker, studying them. "But this dame's a real psycho."
He grabbed one of the pictures and left the photo lab, climbing back up the stairs and into the bedroom, shutting the closet door firmly behind him. A few minutes later, Jeannie re-entered the bedroom with a grilled cheese sandwich.
"Here you go, baby," she said, kissing his cheek. "Now you eat that while I slip into something more comfortable."
"Wouldn't open the closet if I were you," he said, smiling.
She looked at him, puzzled. "What do you mean, Jack?"
He chuckled. "Still gonna keep calling me that?" he asked. "Still wanna keep up the joke? Because I don't know about you, but I think it's gotten pretty old."
"Jack, what are you talking about?" she asked.
He giggled. "Nothing, sweets. Why doncha go slip into something more comfortable?" he said, grinning.
She opened the closet, and her face fell in horror. "Oh my God…" she stammered.
"So you do have a thing for clowns, huh?" chuckled Joker, holding up the doctored picture. "Gotta say, toots, I'm really flattered. You went through all this trouble just to get me to sleep with you…"
"No, Jack, it's not like that," she stammered, turning to him with pleading eyes. "You have to believe me, I didn't want to have to do it…"
"Gotta hand it to ya, though, nice gag," continued Joker, ignoring her. "I admire anybody who can commit to a joke that much. I'm almost tempted not to kill you, but y'see, nobody tries to fool the Joker, sweets," he said, reaching into his jacket and pulling out his gun. "Nothing personal, baby, just a matter of principle. You understand."
"Jack, please, listen to me," she whispered, tears in her eyes. "Please. You are Jack Napier – you're my husband. The only thing I lied to you about is when I told you this was our house. It isn't. The house we bought together burned down in a fire, a fire that destroyed everything, all our pictures together, all our possessions, everything that could have helped you remember. And when I recognized you on the news, I knew you'd never believe I was your wife unless I had proof. So I had to make some. I was desperate – I would do anything to get you back."
"Well, that's real convenient, isn't it, toots?" asked Joker, quietly. "Everything destroyed in a fire…"
"You have to believe me, Jack!" she cried. "I wouldn't have risked lying to you if I wasn't desperate! You think I don't know what the Joker would do to me if he found out?"
She approached him and lay a hand on his cheek. "But you're not the Joker, baby," she whispered. "You're Jack Napier, and you still are, deep down inside. Please come back to me, Jack. Please."
He looked at her, and smiled suddenly. "You wanna know something funny, Jeannie?" he murmured. "I'm never gonna know the truth. You might be my wife, or you might just be some crazy nut. You might be telling the truth, or you might be lying. It's a gag I'll never know the punchline to. And that's…kinda funny, in its own way. But I'm sick of this Jack Napier gag. It's got old, and it ain't funny anymore. And you know what I do to things that ain't funny, doncha, Jeannie? What does the Joker do to things that ain't funny?"
"Jack, please…" she whispered, but she was cut off as he fired his gun into her chest. She staggered back, choking, as he fired all six rounds into her, laughing. She fell to the ground, gazing up at him with tears trickling down her face. "Jack…" she whispered, and then her eyes went glassy.
Joker kept chuckling, bending over the body. He kissed her gently. "Till death do us part, baby," he giggled. "Buh bye!"
And he strode from the room, laughing.
