"What's the Spanish for fish, Mr. J?" asked Harley, perusing the menu at dinner.
"How the hell should I know?" he retorted. "You're the one who went to college."
"I studied psychology, not languages," she said.
"Nor, apparently, geography," muttered Ivy. "They don't speak Spanish in Brazil, Harley. They speak Portuguese."
"Really? It looks a lot like Spanish," she said, frowning at the menu. "And sounds a lot like Spanish. Do you speak Spanish, Red?"
"No," replied Ivy.
"Do you speak Portuguese?" she asked.
"No!" retorted Ivy. "But I know a few words, enough to get a general idea of the menu."
"Ok. What's the Portuguese for fish?" pressed Harley. "I wanna avoid fish, y'see, I have this thing…"
"I know you don't like fish, Harley," interrupted Ivy. "But I don't know what it is in Portuguese, I'm afraid."
"Do you know what is in Spanish?" she asked.
"Why would that matter?" asked Ivy.
"Just curious," shrugged Harley. "We might go to Spain someday and it could be useful."
"Here's a question, why doesn't everyone just speak English?" asked Joker. "Life would be so much simpler if you didn't have to bother trying to figure out a bunch of gibberish every time you leave the States. Where's the damn Riddler when you actually need him?"
He closed the menu and shouted "Hey garcon! Get over here!"
The waiter rushed over. "Look, garcon, we no habla Espanol, so why don't you just bring us something nice to eat, preferably without fish, and a couple of margaritas for me and the lady. Comprehende?"
The waiter said something, gesturing to Ivy. "Do I look like I know what you're saying?" snapped Joker.
"I think he's asking me if I'll have the same," growled Ivy. "And yes, I will, thank you."
The waiter nodded then hurried off. "I wonder where Harvey is," said Ivy, looking around.
"Maybe he met a gal on the beach," said Joker, reaching into his jacket and pulling out a cigar. "Maybe someone else who wanted to join in the birthday suit party. Probably wouldn't be too difficult to get down to business when you've got the goods on display already. Jealous, Pammie?"
"Why would I be jealous?" she asked, casually.
Joker chuckled, lighting the cigar. "Oh, come on. You're seriously asking me to believe that you both just happened to be here by coincidence? I may be crazy, but I ain't stupid, Pammie. This whole vacation was meant to be a dirty little fling for you and Harvey, wasn't it?"
"If we wanted to have a dirty little fling, there's no reason we'd have to leave Gotham to do it," retorted Ivy. "I promise you, J, this vacation was meant to get me away from everyone, including Harvey. The last thing I want to do is be stuck in Brazil for three weeks hanging out with my ex-boyfriend. 'Ex' being the key part of that word."
"Wouldn't blame you if you did wanna get back together with him, though, Red," said Harley as their drinks arrived. "He's a really impressive speciman of manhood, ain't he?"
"Stop mentioning it, you dumb broad!" growled Joker.
"I'm just surprised, puddin', I didn't really expect it from Harvey," said Harley. "I always thought he had a lot of compensation going on, y'know, with the big guns and the fancy cars, the same way the Bat compensates with the Batmobile. But there's no need to be insecure…"
"I ain't insecure!" he snapped, accidentally biting down on his cigar. He growled, rubbing his jaw.
"Aw, poor puddin'!" cooed Harley, cuddling up against him. "What can your Harley girl do to make it all better?"
"You can shut your goddamn mouth about Harvey!" he retorted. "I'm sick of hearing about the guy!"
"Good thing you're on vacation with him, then," retorted Ivy, dryly. "I think you're jealous, J," she said, grinning.
"He ain't got no reason to be jealous," snapped Harley, curling into his lap. "He's twice the man Harvey is, and he's got his adoring Harley girl who don't love anyone else but him. What's Harvey got?"
"Two hot dames on his arm," retorted Joker.
Harley and Ivy looked up to see Two-Face approaching them from across the restaurant, with a very attractive woman on each arm. "Evening, all," he said, cheerfully.
The waiter immediately rushed over to him and bowed, and began chattering away in Portuguese. To their astonishment, Two-Face responded fluently, nodding in appreciation. "Sim, Sr. Dent," said the waiter at last, rushing off.
"I didn't know you speak Portuguese," said Ivy, gaping at him in astonishment.
"I'm full of surprises, Pammie," he retorted, sitting down with the women on either side of him. "Like I said, I come here every year. You pick up a few phrases after a while. Anyway, I'm a guest in their country – the least I can do is learn their language. Plus there are a couple benefits of being able to speak to the natives," he murmured, smiling at one of the women.
"They don't mind the fact that you only got half a face?" snapped Ivy.
"Apparently not," he retorted, putting an arm around their shoulders and leaning back, smiling.
Joker studied the woman nearest him. Harley immediately bristled, and turned his face back to her. He laughed, reaching for another cigar, as the waiter brought drinks for the women and Two-Face. "They don't make 'em like that in the States," he chuckled, lighting it.
"No, they make 'em even better," sniffed Harley.
"Aw, don't be jealous, pooh bear," he murmured, kissing her. "They probably couldn't take a beating the way you could. I like my girls begging for pain from Daddy."
"Oh, Mr. J," she breathed, enveloping his mouth.
"You got a problem with public displays of affection, Julio?" demanded Joker, drawing away suddenly when he noticed the waiter staring at him.
He gestured at Joker, speaking to Two-Face in Portuguese. "He wants you to put out the cigar," translated Two-Face. "There's no smoking allowed. This restaurant is made of bamboo – the whole thing could go up with a stray spark."
Joker stared at him. "He's telling me to stop smoking? On my vacation? Does he know who I am? Comprehende moi, Juan? I'm the Joker! Aw, what am I called in Spanish? Probably El Jokero or something? Ring any bells, Carlos?"
"Nobody tells puddin' what to do!" snapped Harley. "Especially not some snotty nosed college dropout from the middle of nowhere who waits tables for a living! You tell him that, Harv!"
Two-Face looked annoyed, but spoke to the waiter. The waiter replied, looking nervous. "He's asking you kindly," translated Two-Face.
"And I'm telling him unkindly to beat it, before I beat him," retorted Joker. "Sounds like the perfect way to relax on my vacation," he chuckled.
Two-Face sighed, then muttered something to the waiter. "I've told him I'll handle you," he said, leaning forward.
"Yeah? Will you, Harv?" said Joker, grinning as he leaned forward. "Big talk. But as we all know, it's not how big it is that matters. It's how you use it."
He giggled, and blew smoke into Two-Face's face. Ivy broke the tension in the air by rising. "I'm just going to get another drink at the bar," she said. "If anyone cares."
They both grunted, still staring each other down and waiting for the other to make the first move. Ivy was about to ask Harley if she wanted to join her, but she saw her friend's muscles tensed and ready to attack at the first sign of danger to her puddin'. There was no chance of her abandoning him for a drink. Ivy sighed and left them, making her way over to the bar. She was so sick of the fighting. She had come here to get away from all that. And she was also sick of how everyone seemed to have some sort of companion except for her. It wasn't fair. She was a vibrant, attractive, confident young woman, and she wanted a man. Any would do at this point, so long as he was young and fairly attractive.
There happened to be such a man lounging at the bar, and Ivy strolled up to him, putting on her most sultry smile. "I hope you speak English, handsome," she murmured.
"And what other language would an Englishman speak?" he asked, smiling at her in return.
"Oooh, like your accent," she murmured. "You from London?"
"It's not the only area of England," he replied. "But yes, I am."
"There's something really exotic about the English accent," she said, smiling. "Something really attractive too."
"Hardly, compared to most of the accents you hear here," he replied. "But thank you, Miss…"
"Isley. Pamela Isley," she replied.
"Are you here on your own, Miss Isley?" he asked.
"Oh, my friends are around here somewhere," she replied. "But if you mean am I unattached, then yes, I am."
"You American women don't beat about the bush," he said, grinning. "I've always liked that about you. Open and honest and straightforward, with nothing to conceal."
"Oh, every woman has got something to conceal, handsome," she murmured. "It just takes the right kind of man to make her want to reveal it. You think you're the right kinda man, handsome?" she breathed, leaning against the bar.
"I'd certainly like to give it a try," he murmured.
She grinned. "Then buy me a drink," she said.
He obeyed, and she held up her glass. "To…possibilities," she breathed.
"Chin, chin," he murmured.
Ivy raised the glass to her lips, but dropped it suddenly as the Joker slammed into her back. He had been thrown across the room by Two-Face and fell against the bar, knocking drinks everywhere.
"You bi-polar bastard!" he shouted, leaping to his feet. "C'mon, Pammie, help me kill your ex!" he laughed, pulling out his gun. "It's every woman's dream, really!"
The man stared at Ivy. "Do you…um…know him?" he asked.
"No," said Ivy, hastily, as Joker began firing at Two-Face. "Never seen him before in my life."
Glancing back over at the table, she saw Harley had both the women in a headlock. She slammed their faces down on the table and knocked them unconscious, then leapt at Two-Face. "Nobody treats Mr. J like that!" she shrieked, latching onto him and pummeling him.
"Get him, Harley doll!" chuckled Joker, seizing the drink nearest him and chugging it down. He continued to fire as everyone else began to scream and run from the restaurant.
"Is that…the Joker?" asked Ivy's companion, hesitantly.
"Don't know who it is," said Ivy quickly. "Let's get out of here, shall we?"
"C'mon, Pammie, whoever shoots him first gets fifty points!" he giggled. "But you lose twenty-five if you hit Harley!"
"I'm going, J," snapped Ivy.
"Aw, but you'll miss all the fun!" he exclaimed. "Come on! Poison Ivy was never one to run from a fight!"
"You're…Poison Ivy?" stammered the man, astonished.
"Oops, did I let the cat out of the bag?" chuckled Joker. "Sorry, Pammie! Guess you won't be able to wrap your roots around him tonight after all!"
Ivy drew in a breath, trying not to explode in anger. "You will excuse me, I hope, Miss I…Ivy, but I do have someplace to be," stammered the man, hastily leaving.
Ivy's fists clenched. "You…" she hissed. "You!" she exclaimed, leaping on Joker and knocking him to the ground.
"Hey, watch it, Pammie!" he snapped. "I've still got this cigar lit! And if you listen to the paranoid losers who own this place, it's enough to set the whole building on fire! I'd like to see that…"
But at that moment, a spark fell from the cigar onto some of the spilled alcohol, which immediately ignited and spread over the bar, until most of the restaurant was enveloped in flames. Ivy and Joker rushed outside, followed closely by Two-Face, carrying the two women with him, and Harley still clinging onto his back. They got to a safe distance and watched the restaurant burn, and then explode when the fire reached the gas cannisters in the kitchens.
Joker suddenly laughed maniacally. "Aw, fireworks are a great way to end our first day on vacation!" he cackled. "Ain't they just spectacular, Harley baby?"
"I know how we can make some fireworks, puddin'," breathed Harley, who had climbed off Two-Face and now draped herself over Joker, caressing him.
He chuckled. "You know nothing puts me in the mood like explosions, pumpkin," he murmured, kissing her. "Goodnight, everybody! See you tomorrow!"
He picked Harley up and carried her off in his arms, both of them giggling. For the second time that day, Ivy found herself alone with Two-Face, except for the unconscious women, of course. And for the second time, they didn't say a word, but dispersed to their seperate lodgings. Two-Face's was a hotel in the center of town – Ivy's was a small cottage along the beach, one of a row of huts. She entered and began pummeling her pillow, pretending it was Joker's face. "God…damn…evil…bastard!" she hissed between each blow. She groaned, pulling the pillow over her face. "It just can't get any worse, can it?" she murmured.
She suddenly heard a shriek, followed by another, and another. "Oh! Oh, Mr. J! Oh God, puddin'! That's it, puddin', that's it, rev harder, Daddy! Oh, rev up your Harley! Oh, vroom, vroom, puddin'! Oh, Mr. J!"
Ivy felt her jaw tighten as she realized they were in the hut next door. And Harley never shut up. And when they were in the mood, they were at it for hours. She tried to muffle the noise with her pillow as she sighed in resignation. It was going to be a long night.