The Joker was seated in front of the TV, lounging in his boxers and undershirt, and dripping milk from the chocolate cereal he was munching onto his clothes and the sofa. At his feet were his and Harley's pet hyenas, Bud and Lou, sniffing around the discarded plates and takeaway boxes, which the Joker had just left lying on the floor, and licking up the remains of food on them. Lou then jumped up onto his lap to try to lick the chocolate milk off his clothes.

"Down, boy!" snapped Joker. Bud tried to use this distraction to bury his face in the bowl of cereal, but Joker shoved him away. "My cereal!" he retorted. "Get your own!"

The hyenas whined in disappointment, gazing up at him with pleading eyes. "What? You can't be hungry again!" he exclaimed. "Look at all the food lying around! There's good eating in that takeaway box! Plenty of sauce there for you to lick up! It's sweet and sour! A fiesta of flavor!"

They whined again. "And what's wrong with three-day-old Chinese takeaway, I'd like to know?" demanded Joker. "You'd eat rotting animal carcasses in the wild, for Christ's sake! Don't be so goddamn picky! Speaking of which, there's a perfectly good takeaway delivery boy corpse in the hall – why don't you eat that?"

He glanced at the door. "Oh. Never mind," he muttered.

He slurped up the last of the cereal and then placed the bowl on the ground. The hyenas instantly fell upon it, fighting each other to lap up the chocolate milk. "I blame Harley. She's spoiled you," growled Joker. "Well, you better get used to living without her, boys! It's the bachelor life for us all now, and I, for one, am loving it!" he chuckled, lighting a cigar and leaning back.

He looked around the room, and his face fell. "Boy, this place is a dump," he muttered. "Should probably get a maid in here to clean it up." He inhaled from his cigar. "So how do I go about finding a maid?" he wondered aloud. "I guess they're advertised in the phone book. Now where's the phone book, and how do I get it without having to get up?" he asked, looking around. "Harley's probably put it somewhere stupid, the worthless little brat."

An idea suddenly struck him. "Bud, Lou! Hey, boys!" he shouted, clapping his hands. The hyenas looked up at him. "Phonebook," he said, slowly. "Phonebook. Go get it!"

They stared at him. "C'mon, boys, find the phonebook for Daddy!" he said. "Go fetch it! C'mon!"

They just looked at him, and then Bud jumped up and licked his face. "Get off!" he snapped, shoving him away. "Jesus, I get rid of Harley and I still got dumb animals slobbering all over me!"

Bud whined, and then curled up on the seat on the sofa next to Joker. Lou piled on top of him and they both began whimpering, still staring at Joker with their pleading eyes. "What?" he demanded. Bud nuzzled the seat and gazed at him again. "No," retorted Joker. "I ain't bringing her back! I'm finally free of the useless waste of space, and I'm gonna enjoy my freedom, not chain myself up again! I would've thought you could empathize, having choke collars of your own!"

Lou gently began to lick his hand. "No!" he snapped again, snatching it away. "Mommy ain't coming back, so just get that through your thick skulls! And if you think you can blackmail me with those puppy dog eyes, you can't! Harley's tried that one, and it don't work! My heart is stone. Stone, I tell ya!"

He put the cigar to his lips and smoked, focusing back on the TV. Bud and Lou continued to stare at him, wagging their tails sadly. "Look, just stop it!" he shouted, rounding on them. "Go take advantage of your freedom, would ya? Go make a mess on the carpet or claw up the furniture! There's all kinds of fun you can have on your own without some stupid woman around holding your leash! Go have fun! Go play! C'mon!"

They didn't respond except to sink their heads down. Joker stood up. "C'mon, boys, make the most of your freedom, just like I am!" he snapped. "Look what I'm gonna do!" he shouted, kicking over the cereal bowl so that the little chocolate milk remaining inside it spilled onto the carpet. "See? If Harley were here, she'd tell me off for that! She'd say, 'Don't make a mess, Mistah J!' in that shrill, annoying voice of hers. She'd say 'You just make more work for me, Mistah J, you selfish creep!' And she'd get really irritated, and we'd probably have a fight or something, but she'd end up fawning over me just like she always does. She'd say something like, 'I can't ever stay mad at you, Mistah J, because I love you, puddin'.' Well, I don't have to hear 'I love you, puddin'' anymore, and I'm damn grateful for it! And so should you be!"

He sat back down, folding his arms across his chest. The hyenas just started whimpering again. Joker tried to ignore them and watch TV, but his own eyes wandered about the room. "Still," he muttered, smoking thoughtfully. "It would save me the trouble of having to get up and find the phonebook. And even if I do find it, hiring a maid is gonna be expensive. It would be cheaper to just bring Harley back. At least she works for free."

The hyenas raised their heads hopefully. "Plus I'm running outta clean boxers," he muttered, looking down. "Need someone to either do the laundry or buy me some new ones. Wearing the same underwear day after day is just a bit too French for me."

Bud and Lou began wagging their tails, and nuzzling him. "Yeah, yeah, all right, fine," he snapped. "I'll bring her back, just to clean up this mess, and then I'm throwing her out again. I don't need her, you got that?"

The hyenas just laughed. Joker glared at them and then stood up, looking around. "Now…where are my pants?"

Lou leapt off the sofa and rushed into the other room, returning a moment later with Joker's purple pants in his mouth. "Oh, that you understand!" he snapped, grabbing them. "Bring me the rest of my suit then, would ya?"

They both raced from the room and came back with Joker's shirt, waistcoat, bowtie, and jacket. He watched the TV as he dressed, which was playing the news. "…and in what appears to be a miraculous recovery, it has been confirmed that both Dr. Pamela Isley, otherwise known as the supercriminal Poison Ivy, and former DA Harvey Dent, sometimes known as Two-Face, have both been rehabilitated and have returned to their lives as productive citizens. Dr. Isley is currently in a research post at Gotham University, while Mr. Dent has returned to practicing law, choosing to wear a mask to conceal his deformity. The two former inmates of Arkham Asylum were feared incurable, and the cause of their incredible transformation is not known at this time…"

Joker paused in his dressing and stared at the TV, which was showing footage of Ivy and Two-Face, both looking completely normal and interacting casually with everyday citizens. "What the hell?" he muttered. Then he shrugged. "Always knew those two were weak!" he chuckled. "Never had the flair for madness and supervillainy that I do! Probably better that they quit while they were ahead!"

He laughed. "That's two less second-rate criminals occupying Bats's attention!" he giggled. "At this rate we'll be able to have a battle every night, just him and me! Aw, it's gonna be glorious! Thanks for being boring, losers!" he called at the TV.

He continued to laugh to himself as he finished dressing, then grabbed his gun and headed for the door. "You boys behave yourselves while I'm gone!" he said. "I'll be back with a nice corpse for you to snack on. What about Harley?" he chuckled.

They both growled menacingly. "Only joking," he muttered, shutting the door behind him.