Who Says That ***'s Not an Art?

She hummed to herself while managing to keep her body from moving as if she was paralysed. The police officers would speed up pace as they went past her cell in the hope of not making eye contact with her. She was perched on a chained up piece of metal that had a moth eaten pillow in the corner, the room had began to deteriorate as mould consumed the corners of the wall. Apparently not only was she caged like some pathetic animal but she was almost like a barrier between the Joker and his mask goons. It wasn’t long before the human bat to appear on the other side of the thick black strips of metal.

“Clowns to the left of me,
Joker to the right, here I am,
Stuck in the middle with you,” She began singing to the masked idol of Gotham before breaking out into a laughing fit.

Batman began to clench his armoured fingers into a tight fist shape before hastily turning away and disappearing with his cape dancing wildly as he picked up pace with each step. While wiping the tears from her eyes she gently pushed her weight onto the ground, causing a small ball of dust to rise into the air as she fell. Once again one of the important officers took some suited business man around to give them a detailed tour and told them about each criminal.

“Now, cell number 349, this happens to contain one of the most twisted minds in Gotham with an intensive collection of murders under their belt. They have also been known to have already managed to escape from one of the straitjackets and seems to find intensely watching and disturbing the minds of guards a great pastime,” Babbled the officer in a monotone voice.

She just waved back in a taunting manner then licked the tip of her right index finger just before beginning to press it into the ground to begin to design an escape route for her and the other criminals that where located within the buildings dilapidated walls – the only person who could help restore the building would be Bruce Wayne, but that man in a selfish cold-hearted bastard, remarkably attractive though. Her lips curved in a smirk as she decided her idea.

“You have to go to the interrogation room now,” Lectured one of the guards while opening the cell.

She began skipping towards the room, her thin frame almost floated across the floor menacingly while the guard kept quickly on her actions.

“I don’t need you to hold my hand like a baby; I’m perfectly capable of walking in a straight line,” She snarled with pure venom dripping off her words, causing the guard to slow down his pace.

Entering the room she sat on the somewhat dark tinted wood while using the table as a foot rest. A few seconds later Batty and Commissioner Gordon appeared from the room.

“We’ll be leaving now,” Commissioner Gorden muttered, directing the ‘we’ to the man who brought me here. Leaving just Batsy and me to play, oh and what fun we’ll have.