"You expect me to believe that Croc can recite poetry?" interrupted Tetch, breaking in on the story. "The man can barely string two words together. Though I suppose I am flattered that you've listened to me recite the poem so often, you can parody it."
"Well, annoying things get stuck in your head, even when you try to tune 'em out," said Joker, shrugging. "Like commercial jingles, or Harley's nagging. Anyway, everyone in that story is always reciting crap – I just assume it's some Wonderland thing."
"They're not crap!" snapped Tetch. "They're utterly brilliant nonsense poems!"
"Y'know, I think 'brilliant nonsense' is sorta a contradiction in terms," said Joker.
"Says the man who devotes his so-called genius to jokes," retorted Tetch.
"Hey! Less fighting, more story!" snapped Harley.
"Well, somebody's enjoying it!" chuckled Joker. "What about you kiddies?"
"It's great, Daddy, but I really hope we get to see the Jokerwocky soon," said Arleen. "I don't like being kept in suspense."
"Yeah, I bet it's gonna look awesome," said J.J., nodding.
"But not too frightening, I hope," spoke up Alice. "I don't like being frightened."
"There's nothing to be frightened about, my angel – I'm here," said Tetch, comfortingly. "And no monsters, real or otherwise, are going to harm you while I'm around."
"Yeah, you're really brave and tough," agreed Joker, sarcastically. "This is a man who bursts into tears if someone mentions the Boston Tea Party."
Sure enough, tears came to Tetch's eyes. "Well, can you blame me?" he demanded. "All that lovely tea wasted! It's probably the worst tragedy in the history of mankind!"
"Yeah, eat your heart out, the Holocaust," said Joker, nodding. "That's nothing compared to a little tea spill. Anyway, you've got no one to blame but yourself for the Boston Tea Party – shouldn't have forced taxation without representation, you limey jerk."
"Maybe you Americans should learn to control your temper and not take your aggression out on innocent, delicious-tasting beverages," retorted Tetch.
"Don't worry – I take mine out on innocent people!" chuckled Joker. "Anyway, my point is you're probably about as competent protecting Alice from monsters as you are protecting Harley from the Jokerwocky in my story. Which is to say, severely incompetent. But I'm getting ahead of myself. So anyway, the Mad Hatter, the Scarecrow, the Cheshire Catwoman, and Harley all kept trekking across Wonderland, when they came to a clearing in a wood, where a house stood. There was a fat man standing outside, pouring a barrel of fish into a pen of what appeared to be penguins."
Harley didn't even bother to ask how penguins survived in a pen in a temperate climate – she was getting used to this nonsense stuff.
"Good afternoon, Cobblepot," said the Mad Hatter. "How are your penguins today?"
"What kind of question is that?" asked the fat man, turning to him. "How are my penguins? Do you mean how do they exist? Are you inquiring after the nature of their existential state? Or how they appear?"
"I was inquiring after their health," replied the Mad Hatter.
"Why? Do they look ill?" asked the fat man, concerned.
"No, it's just…common courtesy," said the Mad Hatter, slowly. "Honestly, this is too much nonsense even for me."
"You're the one who's not speaking plainly and complicating things," retorted the fat man. "It's not nonsense – it's logic."
"No, it ain't," snapped a voice, as another, identical-looking fat man emerged from inside the house. "Contrariwise, it's nonsense."
"How are you, Cobblekettle?" asked the Mad Hatter. "By which I mean I'm inquiring after your health."
"Can't complain," said the second fat man, shrugging.
"Contrariwise, he can," retorted the first. "And does."
"These are the Penguin twins, Cobblepot and Cobblekettle," said the Mad Hatter, nodding at Harley. "This is Harley, the Wrong Alice."
"Contrariwise, she might be the Right Alice," said Cobblekettle.
"Who's to say?" agreed Cobblepot, nodding.
"Me," snapped Harley. "I'm not Alice. Not any kinda Alice. Not the Right or the Wrong Alice. I'm just Harley."
"Would you like to hear a poem?" asked Cobblekettle.
Harley sighed. "How about we just shake hands to introduce ourselves instead?" she asked.
They both nodded and held out their hands to her, and then instantly began dancing around in a ring with her.
"So it's either poetry or dancing here, huh?" asked Harley, breaking away at last. "We can't just not act like lunatics?"
"Of course not – we're all mad here," retorted the Cheshire Catwoman.
"What brings you…to this part…of Wonderland?" asked Cobblepot between gasps as he and his twin brother caught their breath from the exertion of dancing.
"Contrariwise…what doesn't bring you…to other parts…of Wonderland?" chimed in Cobblekettle.
"We're on the run from the Queen and the Knave," said the Mad Hatter. "We're trying to get to the Batcave to see the Dark Knight so he can perhaps send the Wrong Alice back to her home and summon the Right Alice instead."
"Seems like a suicide mission," retorted Cobblepot.
"Contrariwise, it doesn't," said Cobblekettle. "It sounds more sensible than waiting for the Queen to catch you."
"Or the Knave," agreed Cobblepot.
"Well done for eluding them so far," said Cobblekettle. "That must take some skill."
"Contrariwise, it must take some luck," said Cobblepot. "Lucky that the Knave hasn't figured out your plan for the Wrong Alice and set up an ambush for you."
"Contrariwise, perhaps he has," retorted Cobblekettle. "Perhaps he knew you'd be coming this way and asked us to distract you while he prepared an ambush. Perhaps he's about to spring the trap right now."
"Contrariwise, perhaps he isn't," snapped Cobblepot.
At that moment, a group of playing card guards emerged from the encircling forest, surrounding them. The Knave of Hearts stepped in front of them, smiling triumphantly at the fugitives.
"There, you see? Perhaps he is," said Cobblekettle, smugly.
"Thank you, Cobblepot and Cobblekettle," the Knave said to the twins. "Your reward is that your penguins get to live."
"We really should have known they'd double cross us," growled the Scarecrow. "Knowing the Knave's obsession with duality, it seems obvious he'd choose twins to be his spies."
"It wasn't a voluntary betrayal," insisted Cobblepot.
"Contrariwise, it might have been," said Cobblekettle, shrugging.
"Arrest the fugitives," ordered the Knave at the guards. A playing card approached Harley, who reached out a hand and shoved it violently away. Being a playing card, it folded easily, collapsing to the ground.
"They're nothing but a pack of cards," Harley said to the others. "We can take them!"
"But Harley, they've found us, fair and square," said the Mad Hatter, shrugging. "They've won the game of hide and seek. It would be unsportsmanlike to resist arrest now."
"Unsportsmanlike?" repeated Harley incredulously. "You're going to be executed when the Queen gets you back to her palace! You're gonna sacrifice your life for good sportsmanship?!"
"It would be the gentlemanly thing to do," agreed the Scarecrow.
"I don't believe this!" exclaimed Harley. "I'm not surrendering without a fight! Selina, you ain't a gentleman! C'mon!" she shrieked, shoving another card to the ground.
The Cheshire Catwoman shrugged. "If this is unsportsmanlike, I like it," she said, pouncing suddenly on a card.
"Get them!" roared the Knave, and all the cards rushed Harley and Selina at once. They shared a look, and then charged them, shoving them back which knocked all the others back consecutively, in a domino effect.
"Johnny, Jervis, come on!" roared Harley, grabbing their arms and racing toward the shelter of the forest. They ran through the woods, hearing the shouts of the Knave grow fainter and fainter.
"Please tell me this is the way to the Batcave!" snapped Harley.
"Yes, not far now," said the Mad Hatter. "You'll know it when you see it."
"How?" asked Harley.
"Because you'll see the Bat," said the Mad Hatter.
"What…" began Harley, but they suddenly heard a high-pitched screeching above their heads, and the tops of the trees shuddered as something huge passed through the air over them.
"Is that…the Jokerwocky?" whispered Harley.
"Stop saying that name!" snapped the Cheshire Catwoman.
"No," murmured the Scarecrow. "That's not the Monster. That's the Man-Bat."