Why So Serious?

Harley sat in the back of the school bus used for evacuating the hospital dressed as a nurse. She waited for Joker to enter the bus and give the signal. He did, and the began to drive away. She turned around and watched the smoky black clouds rise as the hospital fell and wondered how Joker’s ‘plan’ was going to play out.

She was going to have to sit at home; the warehouse, and wait while he carried out his little social experiment. She was nervous for some reason and didn’t want him to go. She turned around in the bus seat and looked at him.

“Can I go?” she asked, like a child.

“No.”

“Why not?”

The Joker turned to her and signed. “Because you’ll get in the way.”

Harley blushed and turned away, feeling useless. The bus arrived at the Pruitt building and unloaded the hostages.

“Okay,” one of the clowns said. “You all are going to put on these masks. If you don’t, you die, that simple enough?”

The hostages mumbled to each other and did what they were told. Harley heard one reporter whispering to another, and she could tell by Joker’s face that he was listening too.

“I don’t think that the Joker will really kill any of us,” the reporter whispered. “I mean… we’re important people in Gotham, we’re on the news everyday.”

The Joker walked over to the reporter lazily and leaned in close to her. “You know what I’ve learned…” he whispered in her ear.

She froze. “That there’s no use in killing?” She answered desperately.

He narrowed his eyes at her in faux confusion and shook his head. “No, no. It’s that the important people fall first.” He said and stuck the gun in her side, firing a few rounds through her middle.

The other reporter put her hand over her mouth in horror as she watched her friend die. The Joker just smiled at her and laughed manically, walking into the building to change.

Harley didn’t hear the hostages say another word before she left.

Harley walked into the warehouse and straight to her room. She took off her nurse uniform and planned to sleep through the rest of the day. When she got to her bed she saw something peculiar; a hand-held tape player laying on her pillow. She snuggled into her blanket and pressed the small gray play button.

“Harley, if I get taken into custody again,” he paused, coughing. Harley could tell he rolled his eyes then when he was taping this. “I’m assuming you’ll know what to do. It can be your over-due inspiration.” Then it ended.

Harley tossed the tape player on the floor. Over-due inspiration? She hoped she had it in her. After staring up at the ceiling for countless minutes, Harley finally fell into a dream ridden sleep.

Harley awoke to a banging on her door. It seemed like minutes later since was asleep, but actually hours had passed.

“What do you want?” she yelled.

A clown rushed in. “The Joker’s been arrested again, but this time they’re taking him to Arkham.”

Time for that over-due inspiration.