The Joker left Harley, but he didn't return to Gotham for the time being. He spent a couple weeks away from the city, alone, trying to recover his former genius. But it didn't work. And he knew why. He needed Gotham and the people in it, particularly Batsy, in order to be the Joker, and in order for his madness to manifest itself properly. He may be going through a temporary dry spell, but the only thing that was going to get his gears working again was heading back to Gotham. And so he returned to his home city in a good mood, actually looking forward to seeing Harley for once, and especially looking forward to making Ivy and Selina pay for giving her such terrible advice.
He was driving back to his hideout when his eye was caught by a newspaper headline that made him slam on the brakes. He jumped out of the car, ignoring the crash of vehicles piling up behind him, and raced over to the newspaper vending machine, where the headline read, in huge letters: Batman Fails to Foil Joker's Latest Scheme.
Joker disregarded the coin-operated machine, using a boxing glove on a gun to punch through the glass and seize a copy of the paper. A quick scan of the story made his blood boil, and his smile turn into a furious frown. Clearly some opportunist had been using his absence to impersonate him, and the stupid media were falling for it.
"Buncha idiots," growled Joker, crushing the newspaper in his hand. "Can't tell the difference between a copycat and the real thing."
At least Batman knew the difference, he assured himself, and Harley would too. And the first thing he was gonna do to cheer himself up was to find this copycat and make him pay for daring to mimic his greatness.
"There's only one Joker," he said to himself, as he shot a policeman who had arrived on the crash scene and then stole his car. "Copyright DC comics! Honestly, this don't even sound like a scheme of mine! Blowing up a chemical factory? Where's the punchline in that? If it ain't funny, it ain't me, everyone knows that!"
He was still ranting to himself when he arrived back at his hideout, kicking open the door and announcing, "Honey, I'm home!"
"Oh, puddin'!" shrieked Harley, who managed to race their pet hyenas in getting to him, and won, although admittedly it was difficult to distinguish her slobbering and jumping over him from the hyenas' reactions. "You're home at last!"
"Yeah, just in time too," agreed Joker, pushing her off him and holding up the crumpled paper. "What do you have to say about this?"
"What?" said Harley, taking the paper from him and scanning the story. "That chemical factory explosion? I thought it was a great scheme of yours, puddin', as usual…"
"It wasn't my scheme!" roared Joker, suddenly furious. "How can you not know that, Harley?! I expect the chumps at the Gotham Gazette not to be able to tell an Original Joker Gag from a Carrot Top, but I always thought you could recognize my style!"
"Oh…well, it seemed kinda like your style to me, puddin'," said Harley, slowly. "A lotta people were killed…"
"Where's the joke, Harley?!" roared Joker. "You tell me where the joke is!"
"Well…you know we ain't got exactly the same sense of humor, Mr. J, but I thought the joke was that…it was the third thing you blew up so far, and it started with C. The first was an aviary, which Pengers wasn't that pleased about, and the second was a bank, and now a chemical factory…I thought it was kinda an alphabet gag!"
Joker stared at her. "First of all, how is that a gag? It's not funny, it's just OCD! And it takes a whole lotta explanation to get it, which my jokes never do! And second of all, I haven't blown up anything! I've been outta Gotham for two weeks!"
"Oh," repeated Harley, surprised. "But…you said you were heading back home to Gotham…"
"I changed my mind!" he snapped. "I'm the Joker – I can do that!"
"So…none of them were your schemes, Mr. J?" asked Harley, slowly.
"Of course they weren't!" he yelled. "And I'm hurt, shocked, and offended, Harley, that you of all people can't tell the difference between my work and some pathetic amateur!"
"Well, the papers say he left notes for Batsy with your name signed on them," said Harley. "And the glimpses people got of him fleeing the scene sounded like you – purple suit, green hair…I didn't have any reason to think it wasn't you, puddin'."
"Aside from the huge fact that these crimes aren't funny, you stupid girl!" roared Joker. "I've never done an unfunny crime in my life, and now some loser is out to slander my good name!"
The hyenas cowered back from him, whimpering at his rage, and Harley joined them in backing away slightly – she had rarely seen Mr. J so furious.
"Now…now calm down, puddin'…" she stammered.
"That's all you can say at a time like this?!" he shouted. "Calm down?! When my career has been smeared and stolen by some unfunny hack?! Don't you care about me at all, Harley?!"
"You know I do, puddin'…"
"You don't! You can't if you can't even recognize which are my crimes and which aren't! If you mistake some alphabet obsessed moron with my comic genius!"
"I'm sorry, puddin', but I ain't the only one he's fooled!" protested Harley. "Even Batsy thinks he's you!"
Joker struck her hard across the face. "You take that back, you little brat!"
"It's true, puddin'!" she cried, holding up the paper in front of her face to shield herself, however futilely, from another blow. But it never came.
She opened her eyes to see him staring at the article in horror and disbelief, which confirmed Batman reporting Joker as the culprit for these crimes, and his personal vow to bring the Clown Prince of Crime to justice for them.
He let out a cry, falling backward and stumbling to the door. "Puddin'! Where you going? Puddin'!" called Harley, racing after him.
"To see somebody who might know what the hell is going on!" shouted back Joker.
"Puddin', wait! Puddin'!" cried Harley, watching him leap back into his car and drive off in fury. She sighed, looking back down at the paper in her hands, and then at Bud and Lou, who stood whimpering after Joker and looking up at her in confusion.
"You ain't the only ones who are confused, boys," she murmured, petting them. "I sure hope Mr. J don't do anything too crazy."
She seemed to be forgetting who she was talking about.