"I must say, this really isn't what I expected a chocolate factory would be like," commented Crane, as he looked down on the rows and rows of identical conveyer belts from the window of the manager's office.
"You expected it to be like Willy Wonka, huh?" asked Harley.
"No, of course not – that's a fantasy movie," retorted Crane. "And I know the difference between fantasy and reality. I just expected it to be a little…less sterile."
"It's probably a good thing that a facility that makes food is sterile," said Harley. "You don't want the stuff you put out to be contaminated. Except we do in this case, of course. Anyway, even the cleanest factories have something like 20% rat poop in their products…"
"I didn't mean chemically sterile – I meant sort of atmospherically sterile," interrupted Crane.
"You want me to find some Oompa Loompa costumes?" asked Harley.
"No, not Oompa Loompa costumes, but it does seem that for a Halloween scheme, one should be suitably dressed in some sort of costume," said Crane. "I mean, you and I are, Harley, of course. But it would be nice if the henchmen and the surroundings were dressed up too, to get us more into the spirit of the season."
"You want me to decorate the place with like a serial killer chocolate factory vibe?" asked Harley. "We could have Oompa Loompa corpses strewn around…"
"I'd really just like to leave the Oompa Loompas out of it," interrupted Crane. "They're not particularly Halloween-themed."
"They used to scare me as a kid," said Harley, shrugging. "But that whole movie kinda did."
"I was thinking more of a Gothic, haunted lair feel," continued Crane. "If you can manage that. Nothing cheap and plastic and garish, but something that looks genuinely authentic. Perhaps some brutalist, industrialist type horror."
"No problemo – I can do that," said Harley, nodding. "Me and Mr. J had an old steel mill once that we added the clown theme to which made it really unsettling and uncanny. I can cook up something like that for here."
"Yes, but maybe leave the clowns out of it," said Crane.
"I'll get started on it after lunch," said Harley, pulling out her phone. "I've been trying to call Pauli to get catering brought here, but he's not answering, which is weird. So I'll just go out and get it myself, and pick up some stuff for decorating. You should tell the guys and gal to bring their own costumes tomorrow."
"Yes, I will," said Crane. "I hope they're receptive to it, but I can't say they haven't been doing a good job so far. The production line seems to be steady and efficient, and we've already shipped several boxes of contaminated candy to stores."
"You thought of what'll happen when the Bat tracks the contaminated candy back to here?" asked Harley. "Which he will."
"Yes, but we'll be long gone before that happens," said Crane. "This has all been timed very precisely, Harley – the notes on the boxes we shipped say not to display until Halloween. Batman will only find out about the poisoned candy on Halloween, and we're not going to be waiting around the factory for him. Unlike Joker, I have no desire to lure him here and fight him. I'd much rather have a successful scheme which inflicts mass terror than a battle with the Bat."
"Yeah, Mr. J would always rather give Batsy a rumble than succeed in one of his schemes," said Harley. "He's a…selfless guy like that!" she suddenly sobbed.
"Harley, are you all right?" asked Crane, concerned, as she burst into tears.
"I'm sorry," she said, wiping her eyes. "I just miss Mr. J so much!"
"But you've only been away from him a few weeks," said Crane. "And the last time you saw him, you were furious that he said he'd loan you out sexually to Batman."
"Yeah, but I got over that," said Harley. "He was only joking anyway. That's just what he does, and he likes to push my buttons, just like I like to push his. I really miss him pushing my buttons…"
"Well, I'm sure he misses you too," said Crane, insincerely. "And of course you're welcome to return to him at any time…"
"Nah, I said I'd work for you for the month, and I will," said Harley. "I'm a woman of my word. I just didn't realize how hard being away from him for a month would actually be. I guess that's love though, huh?"
"Yes, I…guess it is," agreed Crane through gritted teeth.
Harley wiped her eyes again. "Mr. J would say I should stop being pathetic and make myself useful by getting lunch and decorations, so that's what I'm gonna do," she said, forcing a smile. "I'll be back soon, Johnny."
Crane's face fell as the door shut after her, and he sighed deeply. He had been indulging in the fantasy of Harley and him being a couple, and working together permanently, but the fantasy had been abruptly shattered and he had suddenly crashed back to reality with a bump. He did know the difference between fantasy and reality, but he had been enjoying blending the two lately, which was a dangerous thing to do.
He looked down at the henchmen working in the factory below, and saw Lindsay steadily injecting the small chocolates with liquid fear toxin. The rational part of his brain prompted him to consider her argument – she was a loyal, efficient worker, a model employee, and a devoted student of his. And she was right – they did both share the unfortunate circumstances of being bullied and outcast through no fault of their own. She was certainly fairly intelligent, to want to pursue a graduate degree in psychology, and she wasn't an objectively unattractive woman, he thought, as she noticed him staring and smiled up at him. On paper, it made sense on his part for there to be an attraction there.
But there wasn't. And that was, in Crane's experience, the most disappointing thing to realize as an intellectual – things which seemed logical and feasible on paper rarely turned out to be so in the real world. The real world wasn't logical – it was, as Joker often said, a madhouse, full of mad people who acted in bizarre ways. All the books Crane had read on human psychology were disproven by the Joker's very existence – how could one believe that creatures as complex and random as human beings could be studied and analyzed rationally after encountering him? There would always be an irrational, inexplicable side to humanity. And it was difficult for Crane, as a rational man, to admit to irrational feelings.
But that was the annoying thing about feelings – they were irrational. And while it did make sense intellectually for him to be attracted to Lindsay, the reality was, he wasn't. She wasn't Harley. And his attraction to Harley was incredibly irrational, since he knew she would never leave the Joker. But he had discovered no way of controlling this over the years – it wasn't the sort of thing which could be switched on and off, or transferred from one woman to another. It might work that way in robots, but not in people. And it would be terribly unfair to Lindsay to try out a relationship with her when in his heart, he would be using her as a poor substitute for Harley. He knew Lindsay could never live up to the perfect woman in his mind, and it was cruel to even ask her to try. He was a psychiatrist, and he knew that trying to sublimate his feelings for Harley through another woman would never work – it could only end in tears for both of them. Or worse, he thought, remembering what Lindsay had said she had done to the boy she liked who didn't like her back.
He left the office and descended to the factory floor, heading over to Lindsay. "I'm almost done with this batch, Dr. Crane," she said, nodding at the box she was filling with contaminated chocolates.
"Excellent work," said Crane. "Lindsay, I have something to ask you."
"Yes?" she said, gazing at him hopefully.
"I'd like you and the rest of the henchmen to wear costumes from now until Halloween," he said. "I'm not too particular as to what – I leave it open to your judgment. But I would like it to be Halloween-themed in some way – Harley's gone to get some spooky decorations and hopefully we'll have this place looking suitably frightening in time for the big day."
"Oh," said Lindsay, clearly disappointed. "Oh…sure, I can find something."
"Wonderful," he said. "I'll go tell the other henchmen. Keep up the good work," he added, turning away.
Lindsay glared down at the chocolates in front of her. "Harley's gone to get decorations," she muttered. "Harley, Harley, Harley. A man like him deserves so much better than a woman like you, a corrupt and spoiled woman, a woman the worst kind of man has used and discarded. I saved myself for Dr. Crane – I'm pure and unspoiled, while you've been a toy of the Joker's, and who knows what filthy, disgusting things he made you do? No decent man should want to touch you, but just because you're blonde and bubbly, like Heather, men lose all reason and just go crazy for you. It's not fair, and it's not right."
She began stabbing the syringe violently into the chocolates, leaving great gaping holes in them and wishing they were Harley's eyes. "Harley," she muttered, crushing two chocolates in her hand. "You'll wish you'd stayed with the clown by the time I'm through with you."