Chapter 5
Harley frowned, insulted by the insinuation. "Mistah J. I know I'm not the sharpest pencil in the eye an' all, but I do know what I saw."
"Do you?" the Joker snapped. "I was there. I was the last to see her alive…but not the first to see her dead." He heaved a great sigh of disappointment. "You can never keep the lawn totally weed free these days."
Harley stared at him disbelievingly. "There's no way…"
"There never is," he laughed ruefully.
"So, Red's…alive?"
He shrugged. "'til I see her either sowing or pushing up daisies. But something tells me she wouldn't mind thanking me for the hot time at our place if she is."
Harley sunk into her seat, under the pretense of fear, but hiding a hopeful grin. "But then why'd we go runnin'? If she's just hurt, they'll haul her heinie back to Arkham and Bats still wouldn't think we was at her place."
"Because we can get a more permanent place. Tonight," he answered matter-of-factly.
In the distance, lights shown bright from the spectacular Iceberg Lounge, the infamous hotspot for Gotham's rich, criminal, and both alike. Pulling around back, the Joker took out a remote. When pressed, it opened a huge garage door, revealing row upon row of the Penguin's sleek and absurdly expensive cars. He wasted no time heading for a space. Unfortunately it was occupied by a smaller car, which they crushed out of the way. Slamming his hand on the horn - causing the first ten notes of "Entry of the Gladiators" to echo off the walls - the Joker leapt out with Harley close behind.
"But first, we have to get the keys to one of Ozzie's dockside warehouses," he told his loyal lady as he led her up the stairs. "With any luck, that pompous, waddling little…"
He trailed off at the sight of Oswald "The Penguin" Cobblepot himself glaring down at them, one eyebrow raised.
"Oswaaaald!" the Joker cried cheerfully, as though seeing an old friend, to cover the insult.
"Joker," the tiny proprietor scoffed, pointing to the destroyed car with his signature umbrella. "I trust that you will reimburse me for the Studebaker."
The Joker waved, dismissing the thought of otherwise. "You know I'm good for it, old bird."
But Cobblepot took no chances, especially when it came to the most notorious rogue in the city. Aiming the umbrella at the clown, he held him at bay. Sensing trouble, Harley stepped up, trying to ease the tension.
"Heya Ozzie! Long time no see!"
Cobblepot, fancying himself a gentleman first and foremost, tipped his hat to her. "Ms. Quinn." But nothing could deter him from self-defense; he knew better than that. He held out his hand, addressing her buffoonish beau. "The garage remote you stole from me."
The Joker gladly handed it over. "Take it, I have four."
Once the door was shut, Cobblepot immediately pocketed the device. It wouldn't do to have the cops - or worse, the Batman - see the Clown Prince and his dizzy dimwit hanging around his establishment. But he didn't dare turn them away.
"Step into my office," he said, waddling passed several doors to 'the Back Room.' Inside, the Joker took the liberty of sitting behind the desk, propping his feet up onto it, much to Cobblepot's chagrin.
"I have a full establishment this evening," he said. "So let's keep this brief."
"Naturally," the Joker agreed. "The long and short of it is this: I…uh, we need to borrow one of your warehouses for about…eh, say a week or so."
Cobblepot burst out laughing. "You truly do have a talent for amusement!"
Once again playing mediator, Harley wrapped her arm around him. "I know my puddin' loves bringin' joy, Cobs…but that wasn't makin' funny."
As the laughter demoted to a simple grin, Cobblepot shoved her away. "Joker, you know how that would disrupt my…operations."
"I do," the Joker replied, nodding. "But I am willing to compensate handsomely."
This sparked interest. "Just how handsomely?"
"Handsomely," he emphasized. "I've a job in mind."
"The payoff?"
"$800,000. Cash."
"Hmm." The Penguin lit up a cigarette and walked to the window. When he turned back, he stared at the both of them as Harley sat on the arm of the desk chair, cuddling up to her Clown Prince Charming.
"And I take you at your word, my malevolent mountebank?"
"I can write it out or draw a picture," the Joker offered with a shrug.
"Because word travels fast in Gotham," the Penguin went on. "How else could I know of a certain…vindictive vixen who wants your head? And any other body parts she might want to keep?" He smirked as the Joker's eyes widened. "That's the talk out there on my floor."
The Joker managed to keep his cool. "800K, Pengers. Do we have business together tonight?"
"I'd pick 'yes' if I was you," Harley piped in.
The old bird took a puff, grinning. "I can hold off or redirect all incoming shipments to Warehouse 12 for three days. Three. So you tell me…do we have business tonight?"
"Five days," the Joker scowled.
"Three."
"Six."
"This is not a negotiation, Joker."
The Joker sighed, shaking his head. "Alright then." He stood, drawing a pistol, his tone growing deadly. "I'll just have to make an example of you. Ask Harley what happens these days when I try to play nice."
Harley grinned wickedly. "How much are they sayin' 'bout Red, Ozzie?"
"HARLEY!" the Joker barked, causing her to startle. He nodded towards Cobblepot. "WORKING!"
"Th-they say, madam," the Penguin muttered, cowering at the sudden attack, "that she's been seen by her old greenhouse."
Harley cleared her throat, recovering and giving him a dark look. "Nah, oh no, no. What's bein' said 'bout why she's lookin' fer--?"
She was cut off, receiving a backhand across the face. "HARLEY!! Time isn't on our side!!" the Joker shouted.
Taking advantage of the distraction, the Penguin subtly activated a button on his umbrella handle. Harley in the meantime trembled on the ground, her eyes prickling with tears, but blinking them back.
"It wasn't pretty, bird," she mumbled, standing slowly. "Don't test 'im."
The Joker shook his head in frustration before turning the gun back on Cobblepot. "Now then, where was I…ah yes!"
Slam!! The door flew open, interrupting him. Two of the waitresses had burst in, having been summoned by their boss, each wielding a machine gun. The Joker quickly took hold of the Penguin, arm tight around his neck and pistol pressed against his head.
"Ah, ah, ah, chickadees!" the Joker warned, gesturing them to lower their guns. They looked to the Penguin, who nodded at top nervous speed, and obeyed.
"Good girls, now then Ozzie, take a closer look at the remote you took."
Shakily, the Penguin did so in fear of his life.
"I took the liberty of adding a new feature," the Joker explained. "The first push opens the door. The second…starts the timer on one hundred pounds of plastique explosives implanted in those stunning chandeliers you bought last month. Remember the delivery delay?" He grinned, pointing to himself proudly.
One of the waitresses attempted to raise her weapon again, thinking the clown preoccupied. But in a record second, Harley drew her Pop Gun, and fired a warning shot to keep her at bay.
"Ha! Thought it was fun-fetti, didja? See that's the thing! Ya never know what's loaded inside," she laughed, blowing at the barrel. "So I'm askin' ya, gal pals…ya feelin' lucky to find out more?"
"Now that's more like it! Ain't she a doll?" the Joker commended, blowing a kiss to her before addressing his hostage. "So Pengers…the keys to Warehouse 12 in exchange for your life. I can deactivate the explosives." He grinned at the waitresses. "What do you think, ladies? Want a place to clock in tomorrow? If you even clock out, haHA!"
The Penguin gasped, sweating as the Joker tightened his hold.
"Tick-tock, Oswald."
"Alright!" he cried, revealing the key. "Yes, alright!"
The Joker gladly took it, jingling it tauntingly in victory. "Smart boy!"
"There, you have it!" the Penguin shouted, trying to catch his breath. "Deactivate the explosives, you pretentious Punchinello! Now!!"
The Joker took on a mock confused expression. "Explosives? What explosives?" he asked before breaking into a wicked grin.
Cobblepot's eyes widened, his monocle falling. "You…"
"Amazing what stolen cargo manifests will tell you, eh?" the Joker replied, not missing a beat as he laughed heartily. "But I'm a man of my word. Five days, 800 thou. You'll get it." Glancing at his hench wench, he bowed and gestured in signal. "Harley?"
She beamed brightly, before heading to the waitresses. "Put 'em down, Barbie-dolls, move it!" she ordered, gesturing to the ground. Slowly, the ladies put their weapons on the floor…but they didn't get up. One then the other, Harley knocked them out cold, gathering up the spoils of war. "I love easy shoppin'!"
The Joker laughed even harder, putting his arm around her with a dramatic smooch. "Ta-rah, Ozzie! Pleasure as always!" he called in farewell as they both moseyed their way out the door.
Author's Note: As Ivy was my first try at two characters in the previous chapters, Penguin was Jason's here. He did an amazing job, both here and another prov we did where Harley goes to meet with him herself. I'm telling you, check out his YouTube page ( http : // www . youtube . com / user / LordJazor ); this is another voice that he does dead on!