Why So Serious?

Harley walked out of her room and into the main section of the warehouse where all of the Joker's assistants were waiting.

"Alright everyone, you work for me now, got that? We're going to get the Joker out of Arkham by nightfall, anyone who doesn't do what I want them to do is in for a surprise."

"Oh yeah?" said one of the clowns. "And what are you gonna do?"

Harley rolled her eyes and aimed the small handgun in her grip at the clown's foot, firing one shot. He yelped and fell to the ground in pain.

"That," she said. "Moving on… Here's what the plan is…"

Harley was riding in one of the two vans they brought, filled with criminals, guns, and a bomb. She was dressed to kill. Her black fake leather miniskirt barely covered her butt and she was wearing fishnet stockings. She red top that was form-fitting around the torso area and cut low, barely revealing the black lace bra she had underneath. Her face was also painted white with red baby doll shaped lips and huge black eyes. She decided a long while ago she'd never wear a mask, and this was the best option.

They turned into the parking lot and Harley got out of the van. "Wait for my signal," she said before slamming the door and walking up to the main doors in a hurried pace.

She entered the asylum and walked up to the front desk. The attendant there looked up and stared at her with a puzzled look before speaking. "May I help you?"

Harley pulled the gun out of her purse and shot the attendant in the head. The woman slumped over and blood started to form a pool around her head. Harley pulled a walkie-talkie out of her purse and pushed down a button, then spoke into it. "Alright, go around back and cut off the power to the camera's and the lights. Leave the doors on."

"Alright," came a voice through the machine. She raised her finger from the button and put the walkie-talkie back into her purse. She walked around the desk and looked at the patient's listing pages fastened onto a clipboard. Harley thumbed through it until she found what she was looking for.

"Aha!" she blurted. Alias: The Joker - Room 215. Then the camera's around the front desk went to white fuzz and the main lighting clicked off, leaving Harley is a slightly darker room.

She took the scan card the opened all of the doors out of the dead secretary's shirt pocket. Then she fired a shot at the front doors, shattering one of them. A few moments later about ten men is clown masks came walking briskly through the door.

"You all stay here," Harley told the men. "If you see anyone, shoot them." With that she turned on her heel and walked down the hallway, searching for room 215.

She found it minutes later and pushed the scan card into the slot, then pulled it out, like a hotel room door. She heard three locks open, one by one. She pulled the heavy metal door open and grinned, her heart exploding in her chest.

The Joker was dressed in a white jumpsuit with a name tag pinned to the front. He was wearing white shoes and had plastic handcuffs securely twined around his wrists. He had no face paint on and when he smile his scars raised too. A lock of his green tinted blond hair fell in front of his pale face.

"Well it's about time," he said to Harley.