"So what you are saying is that you would do anything for the right guy?" Jeannie raised a brow as she looked to Dr. Quinzel. The good doctor was ahead of her in line, scrutinizing the salad bar in search of the right veggies.
"Absolutely." Harleen replied as she added some baby carrots to her plate.
"Anything?" Jeannie was content with adding a few radishes to her own plate.
"Yes."
"What if it was something illegal?" She was curious to know how devoted her friend was to the notions of love. Would Harleen cross the line? How far would she go for the right guy?
"For the right guy . . . of course." Harleen drizzled a little ranch dressing on her salad.
"How do you know if the guy is right for you?" Jeannie followed her to the cashier. They paid for their lunches then went and sat down at a table before the conversation continued. "It's not like they come with big signs on their foreheads that say 'Harley Quinn's Mr. Right''.
"That's cute." Harleen mused. "They should come with signs. It would make life so much easier. Why should everything be so complex? That is what is wrong with the world."
"Do tell." Jeannie sprinkled a little salt on her lunch before brining the two halves together to create a complete burger. Meat, cheese, a swirl of mustard, and no pickles. Pickles always made the cheese taste funny. A little more salt was sprinkled on the plate for her to dip the radishes in.
"Everyday some knew syndrome or psychiatric disease is created. Everything, every little action or thought or emotion becomes the symptom of something. No one has happy childhoods anymore. The world is not full of people, its full of patients just waiting to be diagnosed and drugged." Harleen shook her head in disgust. "I am so tired of these cases. Some woman beats her husband to death with a frying pan full of hot bacon grease and they want her diagnosed with a mental disorder and locked away in here. Never mind that her husband use to beat her on a regular basis. It's not his fault that she's sick. Why does she have to be sick? Why do they have to complicate things? The answer is so simple and obvious. She killed him becuase she was tired of him hitting her."
An idea began to form in Jeannie's head. It seemed her friend was sick and tired of how the world was. Tired of the boring, weak-minded majority telling everyone what to do, what to say, or how to think. If you thought differently or behaved differently you were automaticly labeled as being sick or deranged in some manner.
"What is your opinion of coulrophobia?" Jeannie asked before taking a bite of her burger.
Harleen had a few bites of salad as she mulled over Jeannie's question. Wiping her mouth with her napkin before answering. "I am sure the majority of Gotham could be diagnosed with that." A faint smile formed. Amused that her friend would bring up the fear of clowns. As if some people were not afraid of clowns already, throw in the dangerous clowns. The scary clowns.
Pennywise from Stephen King's It.
Serial killer John Wayne Gacy who dressed as a clown. Pogo the Clown to be precise.
The Killer Clowns from Outer Space. A good movie. She never looked at cotton candy the same way again. When she was younger, she had wanted one of their popcorn guns so badly.
And now Gotham had its own killer clown. The Joker.
"I would love to talk to him." Harleen sighed. She had seen the news, seen the horrible things he had done. But who decided what was right and wrong in the first place? Were they the same people who decided what normal was? Is he as crazy as everyone seems to think he is?
"Who?" Jeannie could see that Harleen had let her mind wander off during the conversation. Judging by the topic they were discussing, she was fairly certain which direction Harleen's mind had wandered off in. But she had to be certain first.
"The Joker." Harleen blushed with embarassment.
"Well, if they ever do catch him. It shouldn't be that hard to have a little chat. No doubt they will lock him up in here." Jeannie set her burger down, more interested with the conversation. "You should do it. If anything you could use him as research. Maybe write some ground breaking article or even a book."
"I could." Harleen seemed a little hesitant.
"It would show these know-it-alls that you deserve to be here just as much as they do." Jeannie was searching for the right words. The words that would give Harleen the little push that they needed. "It would show them that you are smart and that you didn't just wind up here becuase you slept with the right people." She knew it was harsh, but she knew it was the push Harleen would need.
"You're right." Harleen set her fork down on the table forcefully. "If he ever winds up in Arkham, I'll volunteer to be the one to treat him. Most of the other doctors are already afraid of him. Dr. Padecki has threatened to quit if he comes here."
Jeannie smiled, gradually changing the conversation to a less suspicious topic. Once lunch was over, she would head back to Ward B. There were rounds to make and patients to see. Rachel was one of the first ones on the list that she would be checking in on. Soon she would change the contents of Rachel's injections to a slightly lesser dose of meth. She wanted Rachel to be a little more coherent for what she had in mind for her.
