"You think you know a guy!" growled Joker, as he drove erratically through the streets of Gotham City. "You call him a pal, and all the time he's planning on stabbing you in the back by getting his hands on your dame! I tell ya, I couldn't be more angry if it was Batsy sweet-talking Harley…actually that might be kinda hot…no, it would be a betrayal! Fooling around together behind my back, as if I didn't matter at all! Well, nobody plays the Joker for a fool! Not the Bat, not that ugly, bipolar freak, and especially not Harley Quinn! I'll kill 'em both! That'll teach 'em to make a fool outta me!"
He screeched around the corner, and hit someone crossing the road. "Goddamn pedestrians running into my car!" he shouted. "And cyclists! Get a real vehicle, moron, and get outta my grill!"
He screeched at last into what appeared to be a parking garage at number 4872 Prat Street. Slamming on the brake, he stormed out of the car and looked around for a door to the upper level, but it was too dark to see anything. That was his first clue that something was wrong.
The second clue was when the door to the garage came down, locking him inside the room and unable to see a thing. That is, until a familiar figure appeared on a projection in front of him.
"Good evening, Joker!" said Edward Nygma, smiling smugly at him.
"Eddie, what the hell's going on?" demanded Joker. "Where are Harvey and Harley?"
"Not here," said Nygma, lightly. "Isn't it obvious, Joker? It would be if you had half a brain. The address I gave you says it all – the numbers 4872, when entered on a standard phone keyboard, spell out the letters 'ITSA,' and 'Prat' is a very basic anagram for 'trap.' Ergo, 'it's a trap!'"
Joker stared at him in confusion. "Yes!" said Nygma, triumphantly. "I, the Riddler, have lured you into a trap! A trap easily sprung on your pitiful mind by playing on your insecurities about your girlfriend! And there'll be more insecurities to come – many, many more!"
"What the hell are you babbling about?" demanded Joker. "You faked that video just to lure me here?"
"I didn't fake the video," snapped Nygma. "But nothing is going on between Harvey and Harley – I watched them from the moment they entered the restaurant to the moment he dropped her back off at Ivy's. They were just two friends having a pleasant dinner together. However, your overreaction reveals much more about you than it does about them."
"Oh yeah? How's that?" asked Joker.
"It reveals that you're insecure about your relationship," said Nygma, smugly. "Because only an insecure man would leap to conclusions like that from innocent footage. And insecurity about a relationship means some level of devotion to that relationship. No one is insecure about things they're happy to lose."
"Spare me the psycho-babble!" snapped Joker. "Just tell me why you wanted to trap me here, and what kinda stupid crap I have to put up with before I can get out."
"It's not stupid crap – it's genius!" retorted Nygma. "My superior brain has developed a virtual reality simulator, which is so advanced that it will appear to you that these scenarios are actually taking place here in this room, right in front of your very eyes. The scenarios will involve situations that, in your own words, you believe would be dreams – Harley never existing, the sudden end of Harley's existence, and of course Harley's existence without you in her life. Not that I'm expecting a man like you to feel things like guilt, or have a conscience, but you'll be able to see how perfect her life could have been if you hadn't come along and driven her crazy."
"Hey, that was for her own good!" snapped Joker. "She's a lot happier now than she ever would have been if she had been left going along that boring old shrink route!"
"You didn't drive Harley crazy for her own good – you did it for yours," retorted Nygma. "As you always have. Everything about your relationship has been about you, and nothing about her. And has she ever complained about that? Or has she been happy to serve you, happy just to see you happy? And you would wish a woman like that away?"
"You don't know her!" snapped Joker. "She can be an annoying little brat! Sure, everyone always thinks she's a little angel, but they ain't seen her when she's in a bad mood, or a frisky mood, or a homicidal mood! She ain't no angel! That's why she suits…a guy like me!"
He folded his arms across his chest. "But I don't need her, and my life would be a lot better without her around! Go ahead and try to prove me wrong, Eddie! Do your worst! I ain't afraid of some nerd and his virtual reality! Why would any guy be afraid of something that's not even real? What kinda wuss would he have to be to…ah!"
He jumped out of the way as what appeared to be a car came right at him. "Oh…right…it's a virtual car!" he stammered. "I knew that!"
"Welcome to Gotham City, present day, only with one notable difference," said Nygma's voice all around him. "You, the Joker, have never existed."
"Great. Eddie's the voice of God. This virtual reality is clearly hell," sighed Joker. "Plus no me, so that's gotta be a tough place to live. No smiles, no laughter, no fun…"
"If you look down the street, you will see Harleen Quinzel emerging from a store," continued Nygma, ignoring him. Joker did look, and saw Harley, dressed in plain clothes and looking perfectly normal. And happy, he noticed in annoyance, as she carried some shopping down the street toward him.
"If I were you, I would not approach her, as she has no idea who you are…" began Nygma, but Joker ignored him, heading straight for her.
"Hiya, toots!" he said, stepping in front of her. She started back, eyeing him warily.
"Um…hello," she said. "What are you…selling?"
"Selling?" he repeated. "Nothing. Can't a guy just walk down the street and talk to a beautiful woman without her thinking she's selling something?"
"Uh…it's just…you're dressed like a clown," she said, slowly. "So I thought maybe you wanted some money or something, or were gonna do some tricks. You're not a mime, huh?"
"Of course I ain't a mime!" snapped Joker. "But you want tricks – I'll give you tricks!"
"I don't actually…like clowns that much," she continued. "They creep me out a little, so if you wouldn't mind just…getting out of my way…"
"No, you wanted tricks, you're gonna get tricks!" snapped Joker, feeling around in his pocket. "Here, have some nuts," he said, handing her a can. She slowly removed the lid, and screamed when streamers on springs popped out.
"Oh, c'mon, that's a classic gag!" said Joker, frowning. "The old can o'snakes! Course the last time we used that was under more intimate circumstances, if you get what I'm saying," he chuckled. "Here, smell my flower…"
"No, thank you," she snapped, shoving past him. "I'd just like to be left alone…"
"Hey, c'mon, it'll be a gas…" said Joker, grabbing her arm.
"Don't you dare touch me!" she shouted, shoving him away. "I'll call the police! Jesus, can't a girl walk down the street without being harassed by some dumb clown?!"
"I ain't just any dumb clown, sweetheart!" snapped Joker. "I'm the Joker!"
"I don't care if you're Ronald McDonald!" she snapped. "Leave me the hell alone!"
She stormed off, and Joker chuckled. "See, Eddie?" he said, looking up at the sky. "She's all miserable and cranky without me! Your little plot to show me up as selfish has failed! It's for Harley's own good that she's with me!"
"Joker, even the world's happiest person isn't going to respond well to being assaulted by clowns in the street," retorted Nygma. "Follow her home."
"Oh yeah, because she won't call the cops on me then," retorted Joker.
"I thought you weren't afraid of any cops, let alone virtual ones," said Nygma. "Anyway, I can manipulate the reality so that no one can see or hear you – you'll be an invisible observer to Harley's life from now on, how's that?"
"Aw, take all the fun outta stalking and breaking and entering, why doncha?" demanded Joker. "Fine, if it'll get this stupid vision over with quicker!"
He trudged down the street after Harley, who finally stopped in front of a brownstone building, reaching into her bag for her keys and unlocking the door.
"Sweetie, I'm home!" she called.
"Let me help you with those bags, my angel!" said a voice, and Joker stared in horror as a familiar figure headed down the hall toward them.
"Oh God, no, not him!" he gasped. "Harley, how could you do this to me?!"
For taking the bags from Harley and planting a kiss on her lips was none other than Jonathan Crane.