Rumble was leading the way to the bar, followed by Joker and three other henchmen. He was feeling rather upbeat. Apparently, it had been a good idea to ask the boss what was up. Maybe he'd be rewarded.
When they entered, the bartender assumed why the Joker was there and instantly pointed toward the ceiling, indicating that who he was looking for was above, before ducking down behind the counter. As the dangerous group ascended the stairs, all of the patrons quickly took their leave of the building.
Henshaw exited the bathroom at that point and surveyed the empty room, confused. The place was never very busy, but to be completely empty? He searched around a bit to see if there was anyone hiding that he could question, but was unsuccessful. "Where'd everybody go?" he asked aloud. When he didn't receive an answer from the vacant room, he instinctively figured he should warn Harley and White to get out too, just in case something was up.
While Henshaw was trying to discover what was going on below, White was instructing Harley on the rooftop. She was now trying out different guns and discovering that they all felt a little different. He was telling her to change the position of various body parts, but when she shifted a foot invariably something else would shift with it. The simplest solution was for him to position her correctly himself. He stood behind her and placed his hands on her arms, raising them to the correct level, as he used one of his feet to coax her foot slightly over, giving her a proper base. It was in this unfortunate position that Joker burst onto the scene.
White immediately withdrew his hands and jumped back from Harley with such vigor one would have thought he had just discovered that Harley was covered with a flesh-eating virus and he was in danger of becoming infected.
Harley had dropped the gun and held her hands out in front of her as though she could hold Joker at bay. "N-now Puddin'. Calm down. This isn't what it looks like."
Joker didn't respond, which was by far scarier than if he had. As it was, he simply stood there seething. It was as though he never thought he'd come across a situation where he'd find people so willing to test him and he wasn't quite prepared for it. He was snapped out of this stupor by the sound of Henshaw lumbering up the stairs to rescue Harley from…whatever it was that scared everyone off.
When he reached the top, he saw Joker standing there. "Oh, boss, it's just you," he said with a sigh of relief. Joker quickly removed a blade from his pocket and plunged it into the unsuspecting man's gut. Henshaw stumbled backward in shock and pain.
"Yes, it's just me," the madman quipped dangerously.
"GO!" Harley shouted at White. "GO NOW!" White wasted no time and took off down the building by sliding down a drainpipe, praying that it'd hold his weight. As he slid he could hear bullets flying past him, panging off the drain or lodging into the brick of the building. The darkness of the alley was all that saved him from taking one himself. When he reached the ground he took off running and didn't look back.
Harley followed her own advice and easily leapt from one rooftop to the next, disappearing into the skyline.
"They're getting away!" Joker spat at his surrounding henchman, kicking the men toward the stairs to track down his prey.
"But boss, which do we go after?" one asked him.
Joker stared angrily in the direction Harley ran. "She'll be back," he decided, more to himself than to anyone else, and they took off after White.
Rumble did not follow and his absence didn't seem noticed. He was too busy circling Henshaw curiously. "H-help," Henshaw sputtered as he held up a begging hand to the strange man. Rumble withdrew his familiar worn knife and fear shot across Henshaw's face.
"I need your liver," Rumble explained calmly, as though it would put his new victim's mind at ease. "I need to compare it the one I have back home." Henshaw tried to crawl away, but Rumble placed a foot on his chest, holding him in place. "Don't worry," he soothed. "I know right where it is…I think."
Blood dripped from Henshaw's mouth as Rumble dug into him without precision. After a moment or two his eyes glazed over and he lay still, making Rumble's endeavor much easier. He always appreciated it when they stopped thrashing around.