"I don't like Bruce," said Arleen, bluntly, interrupting the story. "He's a bad, mean, nasty man."
"He sure is, sweetness," agreed Joker.
"I do like Harley, though," she continued. "She's nice and sweet. Although it's really sad that her Mommy's dead."
"Well, blame Disney," said Joker. "They got this dead parent obsession in all their movies – I'm just remaining true to the source material."
"Puddin', did you clean out the garage like I asked?" asked Harley, entering the pillow fort at that moment. Arleen climbed off Joker's lap and raced over to hug her tightly.
"Aw, hey, sweetie," cooed Harley, kissing her. "What's all this?"
"I'm just glad you're here, Mommy," murmured Arleen.
Harley picked her up, kissing her again. "Puddin', the garage?" she repeated, turning to Joker.
"I'm kinda in the middle of something here, Harl," said Joker.
"Oh yeah? What's that?" asked Harley.
"He's telling a story," said Arleen. "And it's a good story too, about how you and Daddy met."
"I'm not sure you're old enough for that story," said Harley, looking skeptically at Joker.
"Relax, pooh – I got it covered," he said. "Using the old Beauty and the Beast template."
Harley grinned. "Well, you are quite the sexy beast, puddin'," she purred, kissing him.
"Nah, you got it wrong, kid – I'm beauty, and you're the beast," chuckled Joker.
"I will be a beast if you don't clean out the garage," retorted Harley.
"C'mon, Mommy, let him finish the story," said J.J., not looking up from his construction toys. "I wanna hear the rest of it too. Besides, I'd rather you left all the junk in the garage. I can always find stuff in there that I need for my projects. It's like the Cave of Wonders."
"That's from Aladdin, J.J.," retorted Arleen. "This story is Beauty and the Beast. Don't make Daddy switch halfway through."
"I'd rather hear Aladdin," muttered J.J. "That one has a giant snake fight at the end."
"Well, I can't promise giant snakes, but I'll try to make the battle at the end extra exciting just for you, J.J.," said Joker.
"Cool," said J.J., smiling. "Thanks, Daddy. Come on, Mommy, sit down and join us."
Harley sighed, sitting down next to him. "Well, I never could resist any of my beasts," she said, ruffling his hair fondly. Arleen resumed her seat in Joker's lap, and Joker resumed the story.
"So Harley's father headed off to Metropolis the next day to finalize that car sale. That all went off without a hitch, but that night on the drive back to Gotham, a huge storm suddenly hit. The rain came down so hard, it was like hail, and thunder and lightning seemed to be going off every other second. On top of all that, the engine on his car suddenly blew, and it veered off the road into a ditch. Harley's father climbed out, the wind howling around him and the rain lashing at him as he looked around for some help, or, failing that, some shelter.
He appeared to be on a deserted stretch of highway on the road to Gotham. Suddenly, a bolt of lightning illuminated a castle-like building perched on a hill nearby, all turrets and steeples and darkness. It didn't look like the most inviting place, but at least it was probably dry, he reasoned. And maybe there were people inside who would let him use the telephone to call for help.
He knocked on the iron front door, but it remained firmly shut. He wondered if he could even be heard over the howling of the storm, and tried to open it. It swung inward with an ominous creak, and he carefully stepped inside, pulling the door shut behind him.
He walked across the huge, stone floor of the entrance hall to deathly silence and complete darkness. "Hello?" he called, his voice echoing as the water dripped off him. "Is anybody here?"
There was no response, although it seemed to him that something slithered in the darkness behind him suddenly. He whirled around, but saw nothing but a potted plant leaning against the wall.
"Hello?" he called again. "Anyone? I just need to use your phone…if you got one…anybody?"
He was suddenly seized from behind, and whirled around to face his attacker…and his jaw dropped in shock when he saw that it was the plant, who had wrapped itself around him suddenly, trapping him and dragging him toward a giant pod that opened to reveal a human-sized venus fly trap…
"What's that you've got, my precious baby?" cooed a voice from the shadows. The lights flicked on to reveal a beautiful woman with green skin, who stared at the plant adoringly. "Is it a tasty morsel? A bad human trespasser? A scrumptious intruder to nourish you, my pretty darling?"
"Please, help me!" cried Harley's father, struggling against the plant. "I'm sorry for intruding – I didn't mean any harm! My car broke down in the storm and I was just looking for some shelter, and a way to call my daughter! Please let me go! She'll be so worried!"
He felt the plant stop pulling him toward the pod as the woman held up a hand suddenly. "This one's not for eating, my darling," she murmured. "Bring him," she said, snapping her fingers, and to his amazement, the plant followed her, dragging him along behind as she entered a room full of the strangest people Harley's father had ever seen.
Two of them sat playing a game of chess – one in Victorian clothes and a top hat, and the other in what looked like a scarecrow costume. The other two people lounged on the sofa – one was a man with half a face, who sat flipping a coin and catching it repeatedly, and the other was a clown, who appeared to be playing a Chinese finger trap on himself. In the center of the room was a rose, which appeared to be floating in a glass case. It looked like it had seen better days – it had clearly started to wilt, the petals gathered at the bottom of the case like fallen leaves.
They all looked up as the green-skinned woman entered, followed by the plant, which dropped Harley's father to the ground suddenly with a bump.
"What are you, nuts, Weed Lady?" demanded the clown. "He won't do! Remember, I don't swing that way, and even if I did, I think I could do better than this old guy!"
"He's not for you, you idiot!" snapped the green-skinned woman. "But he's got a daughter."
Everyone in the room seemed to perk up at this, and they rushed over to Harley's father, who struggled slowly to his feet, staring around at them in horror.
"This daughter of yours," said the clown. "Is she hot?"
"Who cares?" demanded the scarecrow. "You can't afford to be picky at this point!"
"Hey, my true love's gotta be hot!" snapped the clown. "I refuse to accept her as my true love if she isn't!"
"You'll take what you can get and like it," snapped the man in the top hat. "Beggars can't be choosers, after all."
"Yeah, if she's a girl, she'll do, as far as I'm concerned," growled the two-faced man. "How are we gonna get her to come here?"
"Simple. We hold him for ransom," said the man in the top hat, pointing at Harley's father. "Say we'll take the girl in exchange for him. If she's a dutiful daughter, she'll make that sacrifice."
"What…do you want with my daughter?" stammered Harley's father.
"None of your business!" snapped the scarecrow. "She won't be any concern of yours anymore after she comes here!"
"Yeah, we'll be taking her off your hands permanently," said the two-faced man. "Assuming she comes here to save your sorry hide in the first place, which I doubt."
"But you'd better hope she does," said the green-skinned woman, nodding. "Otherwise we'll feed you to my babies like the others."
"All right, let's get to writing a ransom note," said the clown, looking around. "We'll need to cut some letters outta some magazines, that's how those are always done. And there have gotta be some magazines around here somewhere…what's your name, pal?" he asked, turning to Harley's father.
"George…Quinzel," he stammered.
"Right…so we'll need a magazine with the letters Q and Z," said the clown, slowly. "Not gonna be easy…"
"Oh, I'll just write it by hand!" snapped the scarecrow. "But we'll need his address so one of us can deliver it. What's your address?" he demanded of Harley's father.
Mr. Quinzel shook his head slowly. "No," he stammered. "No, I'm not letting you do this! I'm not gonna let my daughter come here to this den of…monsters! You can kill me if you want, but you won't hurt her!"
"You don't have a choice," growled the two-faced man, flipping his coin. It had two sides – one normal, and one scratched out. The scratched side landed face up in the man's palm, and he suddenly punched Harley's father in the face. While he fell back winded, the two-faced man reached into Mr. Quinzel's pocket and removed his wallet, taking out his drivers license with his address on it, and handing it to the scarecrow. "Get writing," he muttered.
"If you'd like some monogrammed stationery, I have that in my writing desk," said the man in the top hat, following the scarecrow out of the room.
"Pammie, show our guest to his room," growled the two-faced man, turning away from Mr. Quinzel.
"Oh, and if you find any chattering teeth in there, don't touch them!" called the clown as the plant dragged Mr. Quinzel away. "They explode!"
The plant deposited him in a cold, dank cell, slamming and locking the door behind him. It slithered away, leaving Mr. Quinzel alone. He looked around desperately for some way out, but the bars were thick and solid. At last, he gave himself up to despair, his mind running wild with a million horrible thoughts of what these monsters could want with his precious daughter.