Wayne Enterprises was on high alert after the fiasco earlier that morning, and every available guard had been called in to help clean up the place. Bruce Wayne had gone back home, claiming trauma, and nobody could blame him for that. He wasn't much use in a dangerous situation anyway, and nobody had suspected that the Joker would hit Wayne Enterprises twice in one night – it wasn't like Joker to repeat a joke, or so everyone thought.
But it didn't appear to be the Joker who showed up at Wayne Enterprises later that same morning – it was a man dressed in fine clothing and a top hat, wearing a monocle and carrying a cane. On his arm was a well-dressed woman with a giant, poofy hat and long poofy dress. "Good morning," said the man, in an upper-class English accent. "I'm Lord Bottomsley, and this is Lady Bottomsley. We wish to have a tour of Wayne Enterprises since we are considering investing in it."
"Um…ok," said the guard on duty slowly. "Well, I'm afraid Mr. Wayne isn't here to speak to you, and we're still trying to clean things up after the chaos from the Joker earlier…"
"Ah yes, the Joker!" interrupted Lord Bottomsley. "We have heard of that rapscallious rogue all the way in England, where we're from, isn't that right, Lady Bottomsley?"
"Yes, quite so," agreed Lady Bottomsley. "I hear he's a devil of a man, and devilishly handsome too."
"Well, there's…no accounting for taste," said the guard. "But I'd recommend you come back when Mr. Wayne is here so he can give you the tour personally – you can call and make an appointment with his secretary…"
"That's not necessary," interrupted Lord Bottomsley. "If you'd just let us in, we can take a look around ourselves. I trust Mr. Wayne has security cameras everywhere, so you can monitor us to see that we're not up to any mischief. We're an easily intimidated people - we don't even have guns in our country, after all."
"Yes, even seeing one in your holster is making me quite faint," sighed Lady Bottomsley, teetering on her feet.
"Oh dear, could you please let us in to revive her?" asked Lord Bottomsley, catching her as she collapsed into his arms. "She'll need some water and her smelling salts, and a place to lie down in order to recover."
"Of course – bring her into the lobby," said the guard, gesturing inside. "I'll get her some water from the bathroom," he added, hurrying off.
Lord Bottomsley laid Lady Bottomsley down on one of the chairs in the lobby, and then followed the guard to the bathroom, where he was filling up a glass. "Oh…I said I'd get the water," said the guard, turning as he entered. "I thought you'd stay with your wife."
"Well, I just wanted to show you how we do things in Britain," said Lord Bottomsley with a smile. He suddenly headbutted the guard hard, knocking him out. "That's what we call a Glasgow kiss," said the Joker as he lifted the unconscious guard up and dragged him into a stall. He reached down to take the guard's security pass from his belt, and then returned to Harley.
"Got it, pudd…I mean, my lord?" asked Harley, who had revived after her fake fainting spell.
"Yes, but keep up the act for now," said Joker. "There are cameras everywhere here, so we have to refrain from looking too suspicious."
"How do you think we get down to the vault?" asked Harley.
"We used the elevator last time we were here – might as well try it again," said Joker, heading over to it.
They entered the elevator, and Joker pressed the button for the basement and then swiped the guard's keycard in the slot. The elevator began to move down, and Harley looked around. "This is a lot nicer than the elevator at Arkham. I mean…this is a lot nicer than the lift at Arkham," she corrected. "Not that I'd know anything about what Arkham looks like, having never been there. I'm sure it's not as grand as our estate back in England."
"No, nor is this building," agreed Joker, adjusting his monocle as the elevator stopped and the doors opened to reveal a long, empty hallway. "It's so bare and sterile – looks more like a mental asylum than Arkham if you ask me. What's the point of being a billionaire if you're going to be a minimalist? I definitely won't be once I get my billions – it'll be extravagant gold and clown-themed stuff everywhere."
He examined one of the light fixtures as they walked down the hall. "Look at this – gold-plated," he sighed, tapping it. "It's just embarrassing."
He paused, and then unscrewed the light fixtures, discreetly dropping a few into his pocket. "Why are you stealing 'em if they're gold-plated?" asked Harley.
"So he'll have to replace 'em with something better," retorted Joker. "I'm doing him a big favor. Honestly, a guy as rich as him can afford an interior decorator. Even if he doesn't care how things look, it makes a bad impression on potential investors such as ourselves."
They paused in front of a heavy metal door. "This must be the vault," said Joker, reaching for the keycard again. "I hope the regular guards have access to it, or we'll have to hunt down Brucie again and get his thumb."
Fortunately for Bruce, the keycard opened the door, and Joker and Harley peered inside. It was completely dark, and Joker fumbled for the light switch. He flicked it on, and they both stared in astonishment at what lay before them.
At first glance, it appeared to be an empty room, but all four walls of the room contained several alcoves, each of which were filled with mannequins dressed in different types of clothes from different centuries. At the bottom of each alcove was a plaque with the name of the Wayne ancestor portrayed therein, and on the far side of the room were the mannequins of Thomas and Martha Wayne, as well as Bruce Wayne, standing by a fancy car.
"Wow. He's a weirdo," commented Joker, as he and Harley looked around the different mannequins in the room.
"Solomon Wayne," read Harley, under the mannequin of a man dressed in judge's robes. "Thomas Wayne…and another Thomas Wayne…gee, not very creative with names, are they?" she asked, reading the names of a man dressed in the clothes of a Union soldier from the Civil War, and an American soldier from the Revolutionary War.
"I don't understand being this obsessed with the past and your family history," said Joker. "Of course I don't have any family history that I know of, so maybe I can't understand it."
"I understand honoring your ancestors, but this is a bit much," agreed Harley. "You probably don't wanna put them all up on a literal pedestal like this, especially when they couldn't even think of different names for everyone."
"Isn't your dream to name our son Joker Junior?" asked Joker.
"Well, yeah, but that's different," said Harley. "He's gonna be J.J., for one – if these guys were called T.T. for Thomas Two, or Thomas Squared, or something, that would at least be a variation…"
"Edmond Wayne," read Joker, stopping by a man in seventeenth-century clothing. "I like his wig. And his style."
"I like her style," commented Harley, nodding at the woman next to Edmond. "Though I couldn't pull off that much cleavage. Mercedes Wayne – now there's an original name, huh, Mr. J? Mr. J?" she repeated, noticing he was fixated on the female mannequin. "Mr. J!" she snapped, hitting him. "Are you staring at that mannequin's cleavage?!"
"No," retorted Joker, pointing. "At her necklace."
Harley looked up to see that the mannequin was wearing what looked like an intricate diamond necklace, with three layers of stones. "You don't think it's real, do you?" she asked.
"Looks real to me," said Joker, climbing up into the alcove to examine it. He picked up the necklace and bit into the stone. "Yep, real," he said, ripping the necklace off the mannequin and holding it up. "That's the eccentric rich for you – using real jewels to decorate plastic replicas of their family." He giggled. "Guess that means I'm stealing the family jewels! Go see if any of the others are wearing valuable stuff."
Harley obeyed, while Joker approached the alcove with Thomas and Martha Wayne. The latter was wearing a pearl necklace, and Joker climbed up in order to take it off her.
The moment he removed the necklace, the room immediately went dark, and a strange light shone out from the floor of the room, casting its light up through the ceiling, and presumably to the outside of the building.
"Oh my God!" gasped Joker, recognizing the symbol on the floor that the light emanated from. "He's got his own personal Batsignal!"
He beamed. "Is there anything the rich can't afford?" he laughed. "I'll have to get me one of these once I'm a billionaire." Then an idea struck him, and he knelt down. "Or I could just take this one," he added, smiling up at Harley.
"How are you getting that outta the floor?" demanded Harley. "It looks like it's welded underneath there or something."
"Come on, Harl, like metal has ever stopped me from doing anything," sighed Joker, rolling his eyes. "Metal bars can't hold me at Arkham, and a metal floor can't stop me getting to this Batsignal. Watch and learn," he added, reaching into his coat and pulling out a miniature blowtorch.
"That's gonna take forever for you to burn through," said Harley, glancing up. "And if this is a real Batsignal, I bet you-know-who shows up before you're even halfway through."
"Then you better keep a lookout for him," retorted Joker, lighting up the blowtorch and putting it to the metal, sending sparks flying.
Harley sighed, heading back to the door of the vault. "At least I got some pretty jewelry outta this," she said, examining the rings and necklaces she had taken from the mannequins. "It really sets off the whole outfit. If Mr. J is getting a knighthood, I want a ladyhood. Or whatever it's called."
Joker managed to burn a small hole in the metal floor big enough for his arm to fit through. "Yep, you were right, Harl," he said, feeling around the base of the Batsignal. "It's welded to the floor, and it'll take a while to cut through. But we can help prevent Bat attacks by turning it off," he added, using his blowtorch to smash out the light. Then he got to work trying to burn through the metal welding at the bottom of the signal.
"You ain't gonna be able to lift that, even if you do manage to get through the metal," said Harley at last.
Joker turned off the blowtorch. "Much as I hate to admit it, you're right again," he said. "We're gonna need something to pull this thing out."
He looked around and thought for a moment, and then threw the blowtorch at Harley's head, shouting, "Head's up!"
"Hey!" exclaimed Harley, dodging out of the way. "What gives?"
"We're gonna need a strong cable, so climb up and burn through the elevator cable so we can use that," said Joker.
"And if I do that, how the heck are we getting outta here?" demanded Harley, picking up the blowtorch. "I don't wanna be trapped in Bruce Wayne's basement forever."
"Leave that to me," said Joker, heading over to the mannequin of Bruce Wayne and swiping his watch, and then heading over to examine the car. "If the jewels in here are all real, I'm betting the car is too."
Joker lifted the hood and began trying to hotwire it, while Harley sighed and headed back to the elevator. She stripped off her fancy hat and dress, revealing her regular catsuit underneath, and then leapt up to the hatch in the elevator ceiling. Pushing this open, she climbed up on top of the elevator, eyeing the mass of cables holding it up.
"Yeah, I guess these have gotta be pretty strong," she commented, as she straddled the cables and began to climb them up to the top. Once there, she lit the blowtorch and began to burn through one of the cables. "Shame there aren't people in this elevator, and that it's not being suspended over several floors – Mr. J would love the joke of burning through the cables and letting 'em plummet screaming to their deaths," she commented. "Of course it wouldn't be the fall that kills 'em, but the sudden stop – I think as their bodies splatter on the ground, the speed would actually rip the internal organs straight outta their body…"
She paused, shuddering. "Don't get too excited now, Harl – you got work to do," she said, trying to focus on burning through the cable. "Save your fantasies of bodies splattering and organs ripping outta people's bodies for the bedroom, where Mr. J can enjoy thinking about them too, and satisfying them."
She managed to burn through the top of one of the cables, and it fell down onto the elevator roof with a clatter. Harley shimmied down the remaining ones, and then got to work on burning through the bottom of the cable. When that was done, she hoisted it over her shoulders and then clambered back down into the elevator and back to Joker in the vault.
He had managed to get the car started, and once Harley re-entered the vault with the cable, he took it from her and secured one end to the car. Then he took the blowtorch back, and burned a wider hole in the floor so he could tie the other end to the Batsignal.
"Ok, go accelerate the car – that'll help me cut through this faster," said Joker to Harley. She nodded, climbing into the car as Joker continued to try to burn through the metal.
He suddenly felt a shadow standing over him, and looked up. "Hi, Bats!" he exclaimed, beaming. "Decided to show up this time, huh? Not like earlier when you sent that Robin kid here to stop us. I thought you might have been outta town or something, but clearly you just didn't care enough to wanna rescue Bruce, not that I blame you. If he feels entitled enough to have his own personal Batsignal and summon you whenever the whim takes him, you must be pretty tired of him, and were secretly hoping I'd kill him, right?"
Batman seized Joker around the collar, lifting him up, and Joker shrugged. "Well, you'd never admit to it anyway, but I know the truth, buddy…"
"Put him down, Bats!" snapped Harley from the car, revving the engine. "Or I'm driving straight at ya!"
"No, you ain't!" snapped Joker. "I don't want you accidentally hitting me!"
"He's gonna drop you before then," retorted Harley. "He wouldn't let me accidentally kill you – you know how he can't stand people dying. Now put him down!"
Batman didn't obey. "All right, you asked for it!" exclaimed Harley, slamming her foot down on the accelerator.
"Harley, I said no! Harley, stop! Harley!" shouted Joker as the car hurtled toward them. Just before Harley could hit him, Batman jumped, still carrying Joker, and flew over the car to land behind it. Harley immediately reversed the car, and it collided with Batman, winding him and making him drop Joker. As Batman steadied himself against the car, Joker scrambled to his feet and jumped into the passenger seat. "Drive, drive, drive!" he shouted.
"Oh, now you want me to drive?!" snapped Harley. "Make up your mind, Mr. J!"
She slammed the car back into gear and then slammed her foot on the accelerator again, driving toward the wall in front of them. But the car suddenly stalled as the cable tied to the Batsignal reached its limit, preventing the car from going any further.
"Harley, he's coming!" shouted Joker, as Batman stormed toward them. "We need to go now!"
"We can't! We're stuck on that stupid Batsignal!" shrieked Harley, pressing her foot up and down on the accelerator as the car screeched. "You and your dumb and pointless idea to steal that is gonna get us both sent back to Arkham!"
"You're dumb and pointless!" snapped back Joker.
"And you're an idiotic, insecure, insane creep!" shouted Harley. "And after Bats kicks the crap outta you, I'm gonna give you another beating for getting us caught!"
"I'd like to see you try, you pathetic blonde!" snapped Joker. "You're about as frightening as Robin, and about half as useful!"
"You take that back!" screamed Harley, slamming her entire body down as she rounded on Joker, raising her fist to punch him. But the final slam on the accelerator suddenly made the metal holding down the Batsignal snap, ripping it out of the floor. Batman ducked as the Batsignal flew toward him, but it landed just short of where he stood, smashing through the floor.
"Ok, I take it back. Now drive!" shouted Joker, and Harley obeyed, slamming her foot down on the accelerator again. The car smashed through the wall and out into Gotham. But they were still towing the Batsignal, which had embedded itself in the floor of the vault again. As they sped off, the force of their acceleration pulled both it and the entire vault after them.
Joker turned around to see that they were dragging the vault behind them. "Now that's what I call a heist!" he exclaimed, laughing hysterically. But his laughter died in his throat when he noticed that not only were they dragging the vault, but that Batman was still inside it, glaring at them as they careened through the streets of Gotham. The vault smashed into buildings with every turn, but Batman clung on despite the rubble raining down on him, determined to stop the clowns before they could do any further damage.
Unfortunately for him, he wouldn't.