"I think you broke my other arm," growled Two-Face, cradling it as they all hurried into Gotham Airport.
"You should be grateful they're both broken – now they balance out and all!" snapped Joker.
"No, balancing out would be one good arm and one bad arm!" snapped Two-Face. "Not two bad arms!"
"It's a two, ain't it?" demanded Joker. "I thought you loved those! I thought it was your thing! Excuse me for being thoughtful – I'm getting so much crap for that today! And just for that, I'm not gonna be thoughtful enough to ask where everyone wants to go on vacation – I'm just going to make an executive decision! But first thing's first – we gotta hijack a plane."
"And how do you propose we do that?" demanded Ivy. "You know how tight airport security is these days – they're gonna arrest us before we get within ten feet of a plane."
"You leave that to me, Weed Lady," retorted Joker, looking around the airport. He spied a door that read: Private – Entry for Flight Crews Only, and hurried over to it, pulling out his gun.
He opened the door and pointed the gun into the room. "Hi there, folks, got a joke for you! What's the only greeting that gets the cops called on you? 'Hi, Jack!' Get it?" he chuckled. "But seriously, that's what this is, so everyone just cooperate and we'll be fine!"
"That's really more of a riddle than a joke…" began one of the pilots, and Joker shot him in the stomach.
"The next person to compare me to Riddler don't get off so easy!" he snapped. He popped his head back out and beckoned the rest of the group inside. "Ok, the plan is to steal these people's uniforms so we can pretend to be the flight crew and nobody will look too closely at us when boarding the plane. Obviously I'm going to be the pilot," he announced, heading over to remove the uniform from the man he had just shot. "The rest of you can be flight attendants or something."
"But there are only female flight attendants in here," commented Crane.
"So? You can wear a dress – you got a woman's build anyway," retorted Joker.
"I don't trust you to fly a plane, J," snapped Ivy.
"How hard can it be?" demanded Joker. "Batsy manages it. Plus everything's automatic these days. They got self-driving cars, so I'm sure they got self-flying planes."
"I would rather go back to jail than have you fly us into a mountain," agreed Two-Face.
"All right, Mr. Negative, you can be a co-pilot, how about that?" asked Joker.
"I also can't fly a plane…" began Two-Face.
"But two heads are always better than one, right, buddy?" asked Joker, clapping him on the back. "And you wouldn't board the plane unless there were two pilots anyway, what with your weird obsession and all."
"…I actually can't argue with that," muttered Two-Face, heading over to the co-pilot.
"Joker, I'm not going to steal clothes from a woman and then wear them," snapped Crane.
"Why not? It's the most action you're ever gonna get," retorted Joker. "But fine, if you freaks wanna be difficult, you can hide in the luggage rather than wear a dress. But I know which one I'd be more comfortable with."
Crane and Tetch shared a look, and then unanimously said, "Luggage."
"Suit yourself," said Joker, shrugging. "Or in this case, suitcase yourself!" he chuckled, pointing to a row of wheeled suitcases in the corner.
A few minutes later, Joker and Two-Face were dressed in the pilot and co-pilot's uniforms, dragging two suitcases behind them, while Harley and Ivy followed them in flight attendant's uniforms, also dragging two suitcases. They strode up to the nearest gate.
"Yeah, hi, we're the crew for this flight," said Joker. "Is it ready for us to board?"
"Yes, they've just finished cleaning the airline," said the gate attendant, removing the barrier. She frowned suddenly. "Sir, is that blood on the front of your uniform?"
"No, it's strawberry jam," replied Joker. "I spilled my toast at breakfast - I'm kinda a messy eater. I'll clean it up on the plane."
"And is your co-pilot ok to fly?" she asked, noticing Two-Face's bandaged arm. "With his arm and his…face?"
"Sure, he's had that for ages," said Joker, shrugging. "The face thing, not the arm thing, but the doctor says he's clear to fly with it. Right, Dr. Quinzel?" he asked, turning to Harley.
"Uh…sure," said Harley. "I'm moonlighting as a flight attendant for…fun," she told the attendant. "Really makes a nice change from the doctor's office."
"Ok. Here's your itinerary," said the attendant, looking as if she didn't quite believe them, but thinking it was better if she didn't ask, and handing Joker a piece of paper before letting them pass into the corridor leading to the airplane.
"You're in luck, Tetchy!" Joker exclaimed, banging on the bag Two-Face dragged behind him. "We're heading to London, your hometown! What a great coincidence! I can look into starting up Joker Enterprises while I'm there!"
"I'm not from London, but that does seem to be the only English city Americans know, and they think it makes up the whole country," muttered Tetch's muffled voice from inside the suitcase. "Can we get out of the suitcases now?"
"No, not until after take off, that's the rule!" chuckled Joker. "No messing with the bags until the plane is level and in the air! Except I am gonna need to open mine once we get to the cockpit."
Joker and Two-Face entered the cockpit, and Ivy and Harley were about to follow them when Joker stuck an arm out to block the doorway. "And where do you think you're going?" he demanded. "Didn't you hear what I just said? This is the cockpit."
"Yeah. So?" demanded Ivy.
"Cockpit means it's men only, dollface," retorted Joker. "The clue's in the name and all."
"No, that's not what that means!" snapped Ivy. "There are plenty of women pilots now who fly the plane from the cockpit!"
"Hey, I don't make the rules," said Joker, shrugging. "But I am going to follow them."
"Why? You hate following rules!" snapped Ivy.
"Not when they annoy you," said Joker with a grin. "See you gals after landing!" he added, slamming the door in their faces and locking it. He sighed happily as Ivy continued to bang on the door, screaming curses at him. "Finally, a little peace and quiet around here away from nagging dames," he said, lighting a cigarette.
"Seriously, J, how are we going to fly this plane?" asked Two-Face, staring in bafflement at all the buttons and dials lined in front of them.
"We're not, genius," retorted Joker. "I'm not particularly keen on crashing either, so I brought along an expert to make sure that doesn't happen."
He unzipped his suitcase and dragged out the unfortunate pilot he had shot, who was bleeding heavily and clearly in a lot of pain, but still alive.
"So here's the deal, pal," said Joker, shoving him into the pilot's chair. "I'll remove that bullet, patch you up, and get you to a hospital once we land, but you gotta get this thing to London in one piece. Though from what I hear about English hospitals, you're probably more likely to die going to one of them than not."
The pilot realized he had no choice, and tried to push through the pain. "Can you please put the cigarette out…around all this equipment?" he gasped, starting the engine. "It's against flight regulations."
"Nope," retorted Joker, sitting down and putting his feet up on the neighboring chair as he blew out a cloud of smoke. "I've had a hard day so far and I want to relax."
"I can smell you smoking in there!" shouted Ivy through the door. "I'll murder you for burning those tobacco plants!"
"And she wonders why we need a cockpit," sighed Joker.
"Could I please be let out of the suitcase?" asked Tetch's muffled voice.
"I said not until we're airborne!" shouted Joker, kicking the bag. "Tell 'em, Cap," he added, turning to the pilot. "No messing with the luggage until we're up in the air! That's the rule, right? And I just told Pammie, I don't make the rules, but I respect 'em," he added, blowing out another cloud of smoke.
The pilot grimaced in pain and reached for the intercom. "All right, folks, we're just getting underway here, so please buckle in, and put your seats and tray tables in their upright positions" he muttered. "This is a non-stop flight from Gotham City to London Heathrow. Total flight time is eight hours and twenty minutes."
"Is he gonna be able to survive eight hours without bleeding to death?" asked Two-Face, studying the pilot in concern. "Hey, is there some back-up, automated system in case you die during the flight?" he asked the pilot.
"Why would I tell you that?" demanded the pilot. "Then you'll have no reason to keep me alive."
"Gotta give him credit for brains, Harv," said Joker. "Anyway, he'll be fine!" he exclaimed, slapping the pilot on the back. "Don't forget, I am an expert in horrific wounds and mutilations, and this isn't my first rodeo in keeping someone alive after I've shot 'em. It's gonna be a lot longer than eight hours before he bleeds out, so just sit back, relax, and enjoy the flight," he said, leaning back and shutting his eyes.
Meanwhile, outside the cockpit door, the passengers had all boarded the plane. Ivy had finally given up at getting inside the cockpit, and turned around to face Harley, who had let Crane out of her suitcase. "Well, I guess we just find some empty seats in first class," she sighed.
"Can you ask him if I'm allowed in the cockpit?" asked Crane. "I have the necessary equipment."
"I'm sure the answer is no," retorted Ivy. "About him letting you in the cockpit, I mean. I believe you about the equipment, although I can't imagine it's anything to write home about. But I wouldn't take it as an insult to your masculinity."
"I would," muttered Crane.
"Excuse me, stewardess!" said a passenger, raising his hand. "Can I have a pillow?"
"And I'd like some headphones," said another.
"When are the meals being served?" asked another. "What are the options? Will there be pizza?"
Ivy felt her rage growing at each new request, and she lifted her hands up. "Uh…Red, what are you doing?" asked Harley after nothing happened for several seconds.
"Summoning my plants to destroy all these humans," retorted Ivy.
"But there aren't any plants in the air," said Harley.
Ivy slowly lowered her hands. "Dammit, you're right," she muttered. "I'm completely powerless up here. Now I remember why I don't fly."
"I'll just get that pillow and the headphones," said Harley, heading off to the back of the plane. "And see what we got for food."
"Harley, we're not actually going to serve these entitled meatsacks!" snapped Ivy.
"Well, gee, Red, it's an eight-hour flight," said Harley, shrugging. "People are gonna get hungry, and then they're gonna get cranky, and I don't wanna be trapped in a small space with a buncha angry people. Besides, they have a right to be comfortable, and I like to feel useful. You feel free to relax if you want – I got this."
"You heard her," said Crane, taking an empty seat in first class. "And stewardess, I need a glass of water. Get on that, would you?" he asked, raising the footrest and smiling at Ivy.
Ivy glared back at him. "I'm murdering him and everyone else on this plane once we land," she muttered, storming after Harley. "I swear it."