It actually started with a kidnapping. Who knew a teeny-tiny little abduction could lead to such amazing results, but it did! It just goes to show that every action, no matter how small, can lead to big things. It's true what the motivational speakers say, that the road to greatness starts with a single step, and all that crap.
But like I said, I woke up that morning in the mood for a kidnapping. Harley was still asleep in bed next to me, because she's fundamentally lazy…
"Because it was 3 AM!" interrupted Harley. "And we'd just gone to bed like an hour ago!"
"Geniuses like myself can often cope with less than your average amount of sleep," replied Joker.
"I actually read that's a sign of sociopathy," spoke up Crane.
"Nobody asked you to talk, nerd – just write!" snapped Joker, as he continued his narrative.
Harley was still asleep in bed next to me, because she's fundamentally lazy, so I took it upon myself to get dressed and take our pet hyenas for their morning walk. They too were fast asleep, because they're also fundamentally lazy, but once I dragged them outside, they sniffed half-heartedly at things. While I was loitering on the sidewalk, waiting for them to do their business, who should pull up at the stoplight next to me but billionaire Bruce Wayne, in one of his hot-roding sports cars. He'd undoubtedly just left a young lady, and was now doing the drive of shame…
"There's no such thing as the drive of shame," interrupted Two-Face. "In fact, I'm not sure there's such a thing as the walk of shame for men. We're not ashamed of scoring."
"Women shouldn't be ashamed of scoring either!" snapped Poison Ivy, who had been allowed back into the Rec Room after promising to behave, a promise that no one really believed, but it was easier than fighting her. "The only reason such a concept exists is due to the patriarchy trying to control female sexuality for centuries!"
"I'm just saying, there's no way Bruce was feeling shame after having casual sex with a woman," retorted Two-Face. "I know him well, and that's pretty much how he operates. And I wish you'd just left him alone, J. You know he's a pal of mine."
"He's also one of the richest people in the city, and money has been tight lately," retorted Joker. "Besides, it was a fun idea! I'm not motivated by dollar signs, only by entertainment value, and the entertainment value in kidnapping Gotham's favorite playboy billionaire was too good to pass up. But let me tell you, he was not pleased about it. You'd think someone in his position would just be used to it by now, and that being kidnapped would have become something routine, rather than something to be annoyed about."
"Yeah, Harley and I kidnapped him a few years back for our holiday shopping spree," said Ivy. "He wasn't pleased about that either, but it was actually incredibly simple to do since I just used my lipstick and mind-controlled him by kissing him. But I know you don't have that option, J."
"Because I'm not a whore like you, that's right," agreed Joker.
"'Whore' is another one of those labels like 'walk of shame' created by the patriarchy in order to repress female sexuality," retorted Ivy. "There is no shame in a woman engaging freely in her sexual expression. And anyway, Harley was going to kiss him too."
"Yeah, but he chose to fall down an elevator shaft rather than let me kiss him, which was kinda insulting, I ain't gonna lie," said Harley. "But anyway, I wouldn't have enjoyed it. I don't enjoy kissing anyone but Mr. J," she sighed adoringly, leaning against his shoulder. "He knows I only have eyes for him."
"And that's why he's an oppressor, confining the expression of your sexuality in relation to him exclusively…" continued Ivy.
"But he didn't do that," interrupted Harley. "I chose to confine myself to him exclusively, because I love him. That's kinda what love is."
"Not that you'd know anything about that, Weed Lady, which is why you're doomed to die alone, just like pretty much everyone in this room," finished Joker. "And probably Bruce Wayne, since he can't seem to commit to anyone either. I lectured him about that as we drove back to the hideout in his car."
He hadn't noticed me while waiting at the stoplight, you see, probably distracted by remembering his time with the woman he'd just left. And fortunately I always go out armed when I walk the hyenas – you can't be too careful with all the weirdos in this city. So I pulled out my gun and aimed it at him through the window. He slowly raised his hands, and if looks could kill, I'd be dead now, although again, I'm not sure why. I opened the car door and told him to move over – he looked like he wanted to resist, but the boys were covering him now, their hackles bared, and Mr. Soft Richboy was clearly cowed by a couple of pooches. He scooted over to the passenger seat while the boys climbed into the backseat and I took the wheel, and it was a smooth ride, let me tell you. I gotta get me a Corvette the next time I bust outta here, a purple one, of course.
So that was the first crime of the day – kidnapping. Nothing like it to start the morning off right. Bruce wasn't very chatty as I drove him back to the hideout – he reminded me a little of Batman, just sitting there glowering at me. I've heard all about his reputation as this carefree, devil-may-care, life of the party type, but in my experience, those rumors are greatly exaggerated.
"Even the most jovial guy alive won't be in a good mood when they're kidnapped by a notorious supercriminal at 3 AM," interrupted Two-Face.
"They would be if they could appreciate a joke," retorted Joker. "Which means they're not really a jovial guy, if they're grumpy when the joke's on them."
"And the babies didn't like him at all," reminded Harley. "I guess he smelled funny or something, but I've rarely seen them so hostile to anyone except Batman. I woke up to them barking and growling to wake the dead…"
"I'm telling the story, Harley!" snapped Joker. "Harley woke up when we arrived back at the hideout because of the racket the hyenas were making, and it was all I could do to hold them back from attacking Brucie as I dragged him inside. My theory is he took some weird drugs at the party he'd just left, which did something to his scent, and which also made me think that the useless mutts might be able to earn me some money by becoming drug-sniffing dogs."
"Our babies are not useless mutts!" snapped Harley.
"We pay to feed them and keep them and pick up after them, and what do they give us in return?" demanded Joker. "Nothing!"
"They give us affection and joy, although I know you don't appreciate either of those things, judging by the way you treat me," retorted Harley.
"You don't give me joy," retorted Joker.
"Yeah? Then why are you always smiling?" demanded Harley. "Case closed."
"The only thing I want closed is your mouth while I'm telling my story!" snapped Joker.
"What, you're gonna do my dialogue too?" demanded Harley. "Why can't I tell the parts I'm in?"
"In a court of law, it's better to get testimony straight from the horse's mouth," spoke up Two-Face. "Otherwise it's hearsay, and inadmissible."
"Why on earth would this rambling mass of incoherence need to be admitted in a court of law?" demanded Crane.
"You're the one writing it down, Professor," retorted Joker. "And I take Harvey's point – we do want this to be as accurate as possible, since future generations deserve to know the truth as closely as we can represent it. It's our duty to put down what happened exactly as it happened, verbatim. So go ahead, Harley," he said, nodding at her.
"Go ahead with what?" asked Harley. "You expect me to remember what I said at 3 AM word for word?"
"As much as you can recall," retorted Joker. "What did you say to me when I got home?"
"I guess it was something along the lines of 'What the hell are you doing waking me up at 3 AM?!'" said Harley. "What's all this racket?!"
"I kidnapped Bruce Wayne, and now we need to call his butler to get his ransom paid," said Joker, as he dragged Bruce into the hideout with the hyenas barking and growling at him.
"I doubt his butler is going to be awake at 3 AM, because nobody is!" shouted Harley. "Just tie him up and come back to bed! We'll ransom him in the morning!"
"I guess I could do that – there's no hurry, and it is an unsociable hour," agreed Joker, reaching for a pair of handcuffs and securing Bruce in them. He then handcuffed him to the radiator, and headed toward the bedroom with Harley following.
"Babies, come on!" she called, as the hyenas advanced on Bruce, growling.
"They'll be along, Harl – we'll leave the door open," said Joker. "But let 'em use Brucie for a chew toy for a little while if they wanna. I got no problem with him being in bad condition – he just needs to be alive if we're gonna ransom him later."
Harley sighed, and climbed back into bed as the hyenas launched themselves at Bruce, and he tried futilely to fend them off as they attacked and bit him. The hyenas' snarling and Bruce's screaming were heard in the background as Joker changed into his pajamas and joined her. He flicked off the light and tried to sleep, but the noise from the living room was becoming too loud to ignore.
"Can't you babies torture him quietly!" shouted Harley, sitting up. "We're trying to sleep here!"
"I'm shutting the door," muttered Joker, throwing the covers off.
"No, then the babies can't join us when they're done!" exclaimed Harley. "And they'll whine until we get up to let 'em in!"
Bruce cried out again, and Joker climbed out of bed. "Looks like the babies will kill him if we leave him alone with them. Those stupid animals have no sense of boundaries," he growled, storming back into the living room. "Shut up, you dumb mutts!" he exclaimed, kicking the hyenas off Bruce.
"Don't kick the babies!" cried Harley, rushing over to comfort them. "They just don't like you bringing strangers into our home! Particularly philandering playboy strangers who might get ideas after seeing me in my nightie!"
"I can assure you, I don't have any ideas," retorted Bruce, who was bleeding from his wounds. "But I would like to be released as soon as possible please."
"Fine, give Harley the number, and she'll call your home to negotiate a ransom," replied Joker.
"You really don't want to do that," said Bruce.
"Why? You don't think your butler will pay to get you back?" asked Joker. "Can't say I blame him – it must be hellish working for some superficial rich twit. He must be really resentful at having to constantly clean up after an overgrown, spoiled child."
"No more resentful than Harley is for doing the same," retorted Bruce.
"He's disrespecting you, puddin' – just let the babies kill him and let's go back to bed!" snapped Harley.
"Harley, I'm not gonna kill a guy worth billions of dollars!" snapped Joker. "Not in this economy! I'm gonna force him to pay his fair share, and redistribute his wealth to the people who really deserve it, the hard-working, salt-of-the-earth types who just want to put smiles on people's faces, like you and me. Now get that phone and call…what's your butler's name?" he asked, turning to Bruce.
"Alfred," replied Bruce. "But I repeat, you probably don't want to do that, unless you want Batman on your tail."
"You know Bats?" asked Joker. "That makes sense – the financial elite probably have a hotline straight to Gordon's Batsignal. Harl, be sure and tell Alfred that if he sends Bats over here to rescue Brucie instead of paying up, Brucie is going to suffer a very nasty, hyena-related accident."
"Ok, Mr. J," sighed Harley, picking up the telephone, and dialing the number Bruce gave her.
The phone rang for a long time before a very sleepy voice muttered, "Wayne residence."
"Is that Albert?" asked Harley.
"Alfred, madam," replied the voice on the other end. "How may I be of service?"
"Well, Alan, Mr. J has kidnapped your employer," replied Harley. "And if you wanna see him again, we want money."
"Miss Quinn," said Alfred. "I might have known. Very well – how much money, and where would you like it?"
"Uh…hang on a sec," said Harley, putting her hand over the receiver. "He wants to know how much we want, and where we're gonna pick it up."
"We'll do the deal in a familiar location for our hostage, so he can be comfortable – Wayne Enterprises," said Joker. "I've always wanted to play around in there a little. I'm sure Brucie has a nice, big office we can wait in, and maybe we can steal stuff while we're there."
"Why would we go somewhere where he has the home advantage?" asked Harley. "He probably has security that won't let us get out of the building the moment we exchange him for the money."
"All the better – I love a challenge," said Joker. "Should be fun finding a way out of a place as secure as that. As for the amount, I think we can let him go for, oh, let's say, three billion dollars."
"Are you insane?" demanded Bruce. "Dumb question, I know, but how do you think I'm going to be able to get my hands on that much cash at 3 AM?"
"What do I look like, the answer man?" demanded Joker. "Have Alfie go to a 24-hour ATM or something. Just tell him to meet us in Brucie's office with the dough, or rich boy here dies."
"Ok, Arnold, we want three billion, and we want it in Brucie's office at Wayne Enterprises," said Harley. "You got one hour. One hour, Mr. J?" she called, looking at him for approval.
"Better make it an hour and a half – Wayne Manor is pretty far out of Gotham, and he needs time to drive to the bank and get the cash," said Joker.
"I don't have three billion in a bank account in cash," replied Bruce. "That's not how being a billionaire works – we don't just have a vault stuffed full of hoarded wealth. Most of my fortune is tied up in stocks and investments and business dealings…"
"Blah blah blah, boring!" interrupted Joker. "Remember to warn him about Batsy, Harley."
"Right, Arthur, three billion at Wayne Enterprises in an hour and a half, and don't even think about getting someone to light the Batsignal," said Harley into the phone. "If Batman shows up, he dies, is that clear?"
"Crystal, Miss Quinn," replied Alfred. "And naturally I shan't be contacting Batman, as requested."
Harley hung up the phone, and Alfred put his down too. "Of course she didn't say anything about Robin…" he began, picking up the telephone again and dialing a number.
