Disclaimer: I do not own Batman.

Prologue

"Ugh..." Pamela rolls her eyes. "Those two are at it again."

Selina follows Pamela's gaze across the cafeteria, toward the self-designated Juggalo table, where an infamously on-and-off couple are unsurprisingly arguing.

"Calm down, Puddin', you're overrea—"

"Puddin'?!" Harleen Quinzel—more commonly known as Harley Quinn, or simply Harley—screams in her heavy Brooklyn/slightly Yiddish accent. "I'll show ya puddin'!" She abruptly bolts out of her chair, snatches her cup of chocolate pudding from her tray, and dumps it on the head of her boyfriend—make that ex-boyfriend—earning a collective gasp from their peers, which echoes throughout the cafeteria.

"What the fuck?!" Jack Napier, who everyone refers to by the name Joker, snaps at Harley, as he attempts to remove the pudding from his dyed-green hair. "Stupid bitch! You're lucky, if I don't dump your crazy ass!"

"I am lucky, because I'm dumpin' yours." To emphasize her point, she pulls a diamond ring off her middle finger, and chucks it at him, before stomping away from the table, in search of another place to sit.

"Don't make me laugh!" Joker scoffs. "You'll come crawling back to me, like you always do." Harley chooses not to deny or confirm his statement. She simply flips him off, with her now bare finger, as she makes her way farther from him. "I don't know why I put up with that bitch," Joker complains to his posse of fellow Juggalos. "Must be that 'insane clown pussy.'" Most of them crack up at his joke, and the rest pretend to, when he glares at them.

"Oh, yeah, 'insane clown pussy...'" One of the guys forces a laugh. "Good one, Joker."

"Oh, shut up."

"Um, is she headed this way?" Pamela panics slightly, at the possibility of unexpected company. The misanthropic hippie, who prefers plants to people, and constantly rants about 'saving the trees,' has at least grown used to Selina, who's super chill to be around. "Oh, my God, she is." Pamela hides her face behind curtains of red hair, the way an ostrich buries its head in the sand, as Harley drops her tray and books loudly onto their table, pulls up a chair, and wordlessly sits down.

"Can ya believe that jerk?!"The Juggalette asks rhetorically, after a minute of awkward silence. "Lies to my face, then gets pissed at me, for bein' pissed about it." She yanks at her blonde pigtails, whose tips are respectively dyed pink and blue, as tears trail down her clown-painted face, staining her pasty, white cheeks with black eyeliner and mascara. Suddenly, she pushes aside her tray, and buries her messy face in her crossed arms.

"Yeah, he does sound like a jerk." After a pause, she looks up to see a thin girl with a black pixie cut, dressed in a leather jacket and spandex leggings. "He and my boyfriend hate each other."

"Who's your boyfriend?"

"Bruce Wayne."

"Oh... Yeah, they totally hate each other."

"Bruce says the Joker's a psychopath." Harley considers Selina's words, and concludes that Bruce is probably right.

"Mistah J's done some pretty fucked up shit," Harley admits. "He's not exactly right in the head." Then again, neither is Harley herself.

"What did he lie to you about?" She directs her attention toward the redheaded hippie, whose hourglass figure is accentuated by her tie-dyed tube top and ripped skinny jeans. "I mean, you don't have to say, I was just—"

"He told me that he saved up for this ring he gave me, but he actually shoplifted it from the mall." Harley stabs her Salisbury steak with her fork. "I don't even care that he stole it, just that he lied to me about it."

"Maybe, if he were to apologize—"

"No way." Selina's sentence is cut off. "If he thinks I'm taking him back, he can fugget it."

"Yeah, there's no point, if you can't trust him." Pamela says. "Besides, I've heard the way he talks to you, and it's totally verbal abuse."

"Yeah." Harley sighs. "Mind if I sit with youse, from now on?"