"Pengers talks tough too, but I didn't pay his bail, and I never will," said Joker in the present. "Anyway, I assume that's what he said because he was pissed at me, but of course I wasn't there to overhear it. But that's why nobody got the money for the graverobbing or the wildlife smuggling."
"So did you actually make any money during your record-breaking crime spree tonight?" asked Two-Face. "Aside from the millions you stole from Bruce's account, of course."
"That didn't work, actually - turns out you can't just copy and paste funds from a bank account to a USB drive," sighed Joker. "Which I didn't find out until later. So sue me for not knowing how technology works. Anyway, money isn't everything."
"No, but if your big ambition was to be an entrepreneur, it's kinda sad that you couldn't even begin to make any kinda profit," retorted Ivy. "A kid who sets up a lemonade stand at least makes a couple bucks, and they're a stupid kid."
"They don't make any money in Gotham, because crooks rip 'em off!" snapped Joker. "Which is basically what happened to me. It's not my fault I can't succeed as an entrepreneur - it's society's fault. If society had a tough on crime stance, my crimes would have been more successful."
"Making sense as always, Joker," sighed Crane, putting down the pen and shaking out his wrist.
"What are you doing?" demanded Joker.
"Trying to get rid of the wrist cramp from writing so much," retorted Crane.
"Geez, I would have assumed your wrist is the one part of your body that actually gets a good workout, if you get what I'm saying," said Joker.
"No, I don't think I do," snapped Crane. "What's that supposed to mean?!"
"Never mind – joke's not funny if you have to explain it because your audience is too stupid to get it," sighed Joker. "But I confess I was a little despondent at this point in the narrative. I was back to square one in terms of Joker Enterprises. So I decided to go back to square one of today's adventure, and that was Wayne Enterprises."
"You see, the easiest way to become a billionaire is clearly just to rip off another billionaire," Joker said, as he and Harley sat in their hideout. Joker was working at something on his desk that involved a lamination machine and scissors. "Much less effort than starting your own business from scratch."
"Yeah, so what are we doing back home?" asked Harley. "We're gonna start a business in our garage, Bill Gates style?"
"No, we're going to steal from someone else's," retorted Joker, his tongue sticking out in concentration as he cut around the laminated object he had just made. "This is an exact replica of the Wayne Enterprises security badges – I paid careful attention to them while the guards were shooting at us, and now I can duplicate them."
"You want us to break in to a place we just broke out of a couple hours ago?" demanded Harley.
"It'll be the last thing they'll expect, won't it?" asked Joker. "Nobody will be prepared for another security incident so soon after the last one. Anyway, we'll be in disguise, which is why we'll need the passes."
"And we're gonna do what?" demanded Harley. "Take hostages and get the Robin kid set on us again?"
"No, we're going to get into the vault," retorted Joker. "Since my electronic transfer of funds didn't work, we'll try stealing the old fashioned way. It's much simpler to just steal the wads of cash Brucie undoubtedly has stashed in the basement. At least when you're doing an in-person robbery, you can make sure your stealing is successful."
"And we're gonna get into the vault by flashing some badges at the guards, huh?" demanded Harley. "Yeah, that won't work. They're bound to have scanners and stuff."
"Harley, you don't understand the way the world works yet," sighed Joker. "The rich and powerful don't have to go through all that rigmarole – people just bow and scrape to let them in wherever they want. That's why it's going to be so nice when I'm a billionaire – no one will question anything I do. They'll assume because I'm richer, I'm also smarter than them, so anything I do is a work of genius."
"So you're gonna pretend to be someone rich and powerful so you'll just get waived into the vault?" asked Harley.
"Yes, I'm going to pretend to be the most powerful person at Wayne Enterprises," retorted Joker.
"Bruce Wayne?" asked Harley. "I don't think you can pull that off, puddin'…"
"No, Bruce is merely the figurehead," interrupted Joker. "But the guy who does the real work, the guy who's highly respected, is the guy whose office we were in earlier - Lucius Fox."
"Puddin', you can't pretend to be Lucius Fox," said Harley, firmly.
"First off, nobody is going to buy that, and second off, you'll get canceled."
"I can't get canceled – I'm the Joker!" exclaimed the Joker.
"Yeah, but that hasn't stopped people from trying," retorted Harley. "And I know canceling people for abuse or murder doesn't work, but this definitely will. Maybe that kind of thing was acceptable in your day…"
"In my day?" repeated Joker. "Since when did impersonations fall out of fashion? Impersonations are always acceptable as long as they're good, that's my motto."
"Puddin', you know what Lucius Fox looks like, right?" asked Harley.
"Of course I do," retorted Joker. "He's the CEO of Wayne Enterprises, which means he looks like every other CEO on the planet – they all look alike."
"Puddin', you can't do this," repeated Harley. "You're too white..."
"I can put on makeup…" began Joker.
"No, you can't," interrupted Harley, sternly. "You definitely can't. I told you, that's not acceptable anymore."
"What are you talking about?" demanded Joker. "Putting on makeup is more acceptable than ever, especially for men…"
"Puddin', could you just find a picture of Lucius Fox?" interrupted Harley. "And then you'll see why you can't pass as him."
Joker sighed, but obeyed. "Oh," he said, as the picture came up on the computer. "Well, why didn't you just say that, Harley?"
"Because it's kinda a sensitive issue in this day and age," retorted Harley.
"I don't see why – people shouldn't feel bad about being a little overweight," replied Joker. "But that would be a hard thing for me to fake, you're right. I could stick a pillow under my shirt, but I don't think I could fill out the rest of my body enough, especially the face. I suppose I should pick someone else," he sighed. "Maybe someone nobody's seen, so I won't have to look like anyone in particular."
He thought for a moment. "Harley, where did Brucie say his company did business?"
"Uh…I think he said Asia and Europe?" replied Harley. "He definitely mentioned the UK, because you said you liked how they didn't have guns…"
"That's it!" exclaimed Joker, snapping his fingers. "I'll pretend I'm a potential investor from the UK on a tour of Wayne Enterprises! I can do a passable British accent, at least enough to fool these chumps."
"So can I," agreed Harley. "I've been watching a lotta Downton Abbey. Can we be some kinda lord and lady?"
"Of course we can, pooh – who else but a lord and lady would have enough money to invest in a foreign enterprise?" asked Joker.
"Oooh, this'll be a blast!" exclaimed Harley, leaping to her feet and clapping her hands. "I'll need to wear a really pretty dress and some fancy jewelry! Let's see what I got in my closet!" she exclaimed, racing to the bedroom.
"Yeah, I'll need a monocle for sure," said Joker, following her and rifling through his drawers. "And a pipe. We should also probably drop by Tetchy's again to steal some of his hats."
"I want one of those big, poofy Eliza Doolittle hats," agreed Harley. "I wonder if Jervis has one in his collection."
"Yeah, the freak probably collects women's hats as well, knowing him," sighed Joker, as he popped a monocle into his eye and glanced in the mirror. "We just have to be careful that we're not straying into the realms of parody here – people are only going to buy this act if it's true to life. So to that end, I think we need to make sure we're impersonating some real British aristocrats with real names so people don't suspect we're pulling a scam. It can't be anything that gives it away as a joke or a gag."
"Call Jervis," said Harley, combing through her closet. "He's a British aristocrat, so he must know some names we can use."
Joker reached for his phone. "Hi Tetchy, me again," he said.
"For God's sake, I had just dropped off to sleep after the last time you called!" snapped Tetch. "Isn't it enough that you drive me out of my home and force me to burn it down without constantly waking me up with telephone calls?!"
"You burned your home down?" asked Joker. "Gee, that's gonna make it awkward for us to stop by and pick up some hats."
"I wouldn't let you borrow my hats even if I hadn't burned them," retorted Tetch. "What on earth do you want hats for anyway?"
"Not just hats – I also need the names of a couple of your weirdo British nobility pals," said Joker. "Harley and I are pulling a scam where we're going to pose as wealthy British investors, and we need a real identity to steal so it'll have the ring of truth."
"Nothing about this setup has the ring of truth, so I'm not sure why you're worrying about the names specifically," retorted Tetch.
"Just do it, or I'll find out which hotel you're staying at and burn that to the ground with you inside it!" snapped Joker.
"Fine," said Tetch. "Lord and Lady Bottomsley. Now let me go back to sleep…"
"Those aren't real names!" exclaimed Joker. "I said nothing that would obviously be a joke!"
"They are real names," retorted Tetch. "I went to boarding school with Lord Bottomsley, and attended his wedding to Lady Bottomsley. They live in Shropshire, and both have a seat in the House of Lords."
"I guess you could say they both have a bottom in the House of Lords!" chuckled Joker. Tetch didn't reply except to hang up the phone, and Joker shrugged. "No sense of humor, those people, which is amazing considering the kind of joke names they have," he sighed, looking at his reflection in the mirror again. "You ready to get this show on the road, Lady Bottomsley?"
"Charmed," said Harley, emerging in a red, ruffled gown. "Are we getting hats?"
"No, Tetchy's in a bad mood for some reason," sighed Joker. "The man certainly lives up to his name."
"He's probably just sore because you made him dig up that body earlier under pain of death," said Harley. "People get kinda grumpy when you threaten 'em – I don't know why. I love being threatened by you, as you well know," she added, kissing him.
"Harley, the British aristocracy doesn't do public displays of affection!" retorted Joker, shoving her away. "Or private displays of affection, probably. So cut it out, or you'll blow this whole act! I won't have you spoiling another one of my genius crimes with your serial incompetence!"
"Fine," sighed Harley. "I mean, yes, quite so," she added in a British accent. "At least I get to have some fun in this one – dressing up and impersonating people is always fun."
"It is," agreed Joker, checking his watch. "And I suppose we have time for a quick jaunt to the antique store to see if they got any hats we can borrow, since Tetchy apparently burned his collection when he burned his apartment down."
"Why did he do that?" asked Harley, puzzled.
"I haven't the foggiest idea," replied Joker, in his best British accent. "He's clinically insane you know, poor fellow," he added, adjusting his monocle. "Rather an unfortunate way to go through life if you ask me, Lady Bottomsley."
"Yes, quite so," repeated Harley, in her British accent. "Lead the way, Mr. J…I mean, my lord," she corrected.
"My lord," repeated Joker, beaming. "You know, Harley, I could kinda get used to that!" he chuckled, as they headed out of their hideout to cause further chaos in Gotham.