They both stared at him in disbelief. "Harley…what?" stammered Crane.
"Tried to kill me," he repeated, nodding. "Completely outta the blue, too, which is the unusual part. I mean, believe it or not, we're not a perfect couple, and sometimes we have fights, which are always her fault, by the way, and we've both tried to kill each other a few times, but that's excusable in the heat of the moment, y'know? And I ain't gonna lie, sometimes it's kinda hot. A little strangulation or stabbing during the act makes the payoff that much more satisfying. But this was in cold blood, and that ain't in Harley's nature. No warning, no foreplay, no gag, just woke up suddenly and there she was, about to shove a knife into my heart. Fortunately I'm a lot stronger than the dumb blonde, and I was able to overpower her and beat her into unconsciousness. She's gonna have a headache when she wakes up, but she deserves it for trying to kill me. It was a very naughty thing to do, and it's only fair that she's punished for it."
He helped himself to another biscuit. "Anyway, obviously my Harley would never do anything like that. The kid's nuts about me. And it got me thinking about how you would never do anything to hurt your little girlfriend, and yet you did, because you thought someone was controlling your mind. So I began to wonder if the same thing coulda happened to Harley."
"Maybe she just finally got tired of taking all your abuse and snapped," retorted Crane coldly.
"Nah, that ain't it," said Joker dismissively, waving his hand. "I did an outstanding job twisting her mind – she ain't ever breaking outta the cycle of abuse. She likes it too much. No, Tetchy's mind control theory is looking a lot more likely, as is your conspiracy theory, Johnny. Although I'm standing by my bet."
"What bet?" asked Tetch.
"That this whole thing ain't about you," retorted Joker. "That you're like the prelude to the main event. Which is obviously me."
"You are an arrogant bastard," muttered Crane.
"It's not arrogance if I'm right," retorted Joker. "And I'm always right."
"Where is Harley?" asked Tetch, standing up.
"In my cell. Why?"
"Because if she is being mind controlled, my microchip should still be on her. Whoever placed it on her probably hasn't had time to remove it yet," he said, striding out of his cell.
They entered the Joker's cell to see Harley lying unconscious on the bed. Tetch bent down and reached behind her ear. He let out a cry of triumph as he held up a tiny chip. "Curiouser and curiouser," he murmured. "Now all we need to figure out is who put it there, and why. I'm going to need my hat."
He returned to his cell with the others following. Reaching under the bed, he pulled out his top hat and placed the microchip onto the hat card, which began glowing and emitting a series of beeps. "I installed this failsafe to make sure I could always locate the targets of my mind control," he murmured. "It is a two-way system, allowing the controller, ordinarily me, but in this case some vile miscreant, to know the location of his victim, and contrariwise, to allow the victim to find his way to back to the controller."
"But by that logic, if Batman found one of your victims, couldn't he conceivably use the microchips to track you?" asked Crane.
Tetch was silent for a moment. "You know, I never thought about that," he muttered to himself. "It's a valid point. In future, I shall modify it, but I'm certainly glad I didn't think of it now. Follow me."
As they left the cell block, the beeping increased its pace. "The closer we get to the controller, the quicker the noise," explained Tetch. "If we begin to proceed in the wrong direction, the beeping will stop."
As if to illustrate his point, the beeping stopped at that moment. "This way," said Tetch, turning around, and the beeping resumed.
"I feel a bit like I'm in Scooby-Doo," laughed Joker. "Except I'm Fred stuck here with the male equivalents of Velma. Do you think the culprit's gonna be some guy in a mask?" he chuckled.
"Not unless it's Batman," retorted Crane. "And I doubt he'd have the brains for such a scheme."
"Yeah, I love Bats, but he ain't the brightest bulb in the shed by a long shot," said Joker, nodding. "It's obvious from his name, really. When he thought it up, he must have gone, 'Well, I'm a man who dresses as a bat – why don't I call myself Batman?' There's no creativity there, no imagination! You don't see me going around calling myself Clownman…"
"Will you both shut up?" snapped Tetch. "I can't hear myself beep! Besides, it would behoove us to be quiet – the person we're dealing with is no doubt some deranged and dangerous lunatic who will have no qualms about killing us if he perceives he's being tracked…"
"Unless it's Batman," retorted Joker. "He don't kill anyone. And if you wanted to make tracking somebody silent, maybe you shouldn't have made the tracking signal a loud series of beeps, Hatty! Geez, I thought you were supposed to be smart! Now me, I don't believe in stealth. That's Batsy's style. My attitude is to face things head on, grab the Bat by the horns…"
The floor that they were walking on suddenly gave way and they all three fell down, landing in a strange room set up with all kinds of laboratory equipment. It appeared to be empty, and Joker struggled to his feet and looked around. He peered at a few test tubes and notes, and then laughed hysterically. "Nah, this ain't the Bat," he said, turning back to face Crane and Tetch. "It's someone much more…"
But he suddenly noticed that Crane and Tetch weren't moving, and then felt a sharp pain in his neck. He whirled around to see a figure holding a syringe. Joker grinned. "Strange," he chuckled. He began to laugh hysterically, and then the drug from the shot kicked in and he fell to the ground, unconscious.
"I hope you enjoyed the joke, Joker," murmured Hugo Strange, stepping into the light and smiling. "It will be your last."