A/N: It's finally back.

Chapter 7: "And a Chihuahua!"

It has been three weeks since the chaos of the supposed alternate dimensions, random appearances by pesky heroes, and painstakingly disassembling their cozy abandoned warehouse and setting it back up in a danker portion of Gotham. Harley and the Joker talked things over and decided to pretend that Batgirl and the alternate dimensions never appeared, and that it was all a hallucination from some bad tacos.

Now, they simply returned to a relatively normal life. Things stayed relatively calm, except for when Poison Ivy broke into their house and stole some money. She later said that it was for "medical expenses and hyena obedience school." The Joker and Harley alternately went out to pull off some crazy caper or murder someone for the fun of it. Meanwhile, the other would make plans for the next night or relax by hacking into the police's computer systems and changing the dress code to "ninja-style dancers."

In the meantime, though, they would have a late dinner and muse over the day's events. Sometimes they would plan excursions together or they would fix the other's errors. In the case of today, unfortunately, it seemed as though the errors could not be fixed.

Harley sat on the couch, patting one of the hyenas. "Yes, Mr. Fluffy-Fangs, you are Harley's little friend. Want a bone?" She pulled a strangely long bone (a femur?) out of a red-stained bag and placed it near his mouth, making sure to pull away quickly. It was gone within seconds.

The door opened, and the Joker practically flopped in. "Hi, Harls. It's been a very stressful day. Do you know what's happened to the local morgue?"

Harley continued to scratch the hyena's ear. "Sorry, puddin'. I've been concentrating on the orphanages. Did you know that if you threaten to take away the food supply, then the more corrupt employees will let you take some of the orphans as 'employees?' That reminds me, don't open the bedroom door. Some of them are in there and I don't know if the tranquilizers have worn off. The hyenas have been extra hungry lately."

The Joker eyed the hyenas warily. "Yes, we definitely don't want the hyenas killing our cheap labor. And on the subject of death, that's something that I have to complain about tonight." He pulled out a flask of whiskey from the refrigerator and took a long swig. "Ah, that's good." He then grabbed some grapes and sat down by Harley, hugging her.

After a few seconds, he rubbed his eyes and set down the bottle. "So, I was having some trouble with coming up with a plan last night. It was getting late, so I chose to just steal something. I had just grabbed some fire extinguishers from the fire department, but the police came. I tried to hide in the morgue, but there's too many dead bodies! I couldn't find an empty fridge or locker! I just threw all of my bombs at the police. I barely escaped with the fire extinguishers. Why is this happening?"

Harley looked up from her beloved pet. "Well, I'm sorry to say this, but you might be part of the problem. Your plans tend to cause a lot of...collateral damage. Besides, you just told me that you killed a lot of police officers."

The Joker paced across the living room. "That's it! Harley, you're a genius! Now, what can I do to solve this situation? Steal bodies from the morgue? No, that would just clutter up our house and make the hyenas ill from overeating. Besides, the orphans might get sick. Lousy orphans. Quickly organize funerals for the bodies? No, that would take too long. Dump them in the river? Steal Victor's freezing rays, freeze the bodies, and let them melt in the Caribbean? No! I know what I must do...I have to stop killing people!"

"Are you sure you can stick to that?" Harley asked.

"I'll have to try my best! I can return to my roots! Pulling annoying pranks on Batman and dumping toxic glitter in the food supply! Wait, no, that would kill people." Joker sat back down. "Harley, can you help me?"

She nodded. "Sure! Just go through your old schemes and take out the deadly parts! Replace them with something harmless. Alternately, maybe you could confuse everyone by doing nice things or lying low."

Joker gasped. "NO! I am sorry, but I can't do that. The Joker does not lie low. I may cheat, I may steal candy from babies and heart medication from old people, I may trick people into going to the beach so I can use robots to drown them, but I do not lie low! I will continue to be a nuisance, just a less deadly one! Now, let's. Get. PLANNING!"

And so they plotted and planned long into the night, laughing and giggling. They will do this!

Three weeks later…

The Joker practically dragged himself through the door. "I can't do this, Harley! This is driving me crazy!"

Harley looked up from the computer. "Just a second." She make a few more keystrokes into the computer. "Okay, there. I've just hacked into the elementary school's cafeteria menu. They just ordered ten tons of anchovies! So, what's wrong?"

The Joker sat down on the couch. "I keep trying and trying, but this isn't going to work out. I haven't killed anyone yet, but I feel like i'm just going to snap! People everywhere are so obnoxious! I nearly strangled the local pizza guy after he sent me the wrong pizza order! The lackeys are getting uppity! Questioning orders, suggesting alternate plans, even daring to say that I'm not as efficient as I used to be!"

Harley sat down next to him. "To be fair, it did take you three hours to break out of Arkham Asylum. Usually, it only takes you half an hour."

The Joker sighed. "You know what?"

Harley shrugged. "No, I don't."

Joker snapped his fingers."I've got it! I'll blow up the morgue! My whole problem started with not being able to hide there! If it's gone, then I won't have that problem! I'll just keep working on that invisibility suit! I need ten pounds of C-4 and a Chihuahua! TO THE BACKYARD!"

And so, they got the necessary ingredients and blew up the morgue. Embalming fluid, dead bodies, and rubble flew everywhere. Dozens of people were killed, more were hurt. The city was in chaos, thanks to the happy couple.

THE END

Post-Script…

In the locked room, the orphans finally began to wake up. Little did they know that their lives would get much, much worse...