WHU-PAM!
The great force of the machine caused Harley to be jerked backwards as the abnormal ammo rocketed towards Officer Sennett at point-blank range. It sounded a loud ‘splat!’ as the pie tin made impact, slowly sliding down her crème-covered face. Mackenzie Sennett was knocked onto her butt, landing on her hogtied hands behind her.
“AHAHAHAHAHAHA!!”
The Joker roared with laughter, slapping his naked knee as he watched Officer Sennett struggle to make her way back up to a kneeling position. The crowd of police officers, reduced to little more than sniveling onlookers of his most recent prank, could do little more than avert their gaze as the naked Clown Prince of Crime slowly walked his way over to his latest victim.
“You know Harley, I’m starting to doubt as to whether or not Mack here liked our little gift.” Joker said in feigned remorse, “I mean, it’s kind of hard to tell with all this crème on her face, but you do understand what I’m saying? With all the effort we put into this, and how much we know she likes pies, you’d think that she’d be just a little more… oh, what’s the word I’m looking for?”
“Appreciative?” Harley suggested, hands resting squarely on the oversized launching mechanism as she leaned in closer, a pout on her lips as she played along with the act
“That’s it!” Joker snapped his gloved fingers, “Appreciative. You’d think Officer Sennett would be just a little more appreciative of what we’ve done for her here.”
The two hateful harlequins glanced over to Officer Sennett as she wriggled and writhed on the floor, her elegant blue dress forever marred by the crème that dripped from her neck-up. They took longing looks at one another, desperate for an answer in their sick improv act.
“One more wittle try?” Harley coochy-cooed the wriggling officer from a distance, incoherent mumbling her only definitive answer, “I… think that’s a yes?”
“Good enough for me!” Joker announced, “Whaddaya say, Harl? One good try deserves another!”
“Right-a-roonie!” Harley giggled, putting the heavy machine back on her shoulder and cocking it, “Pucker-up crème-puff!”
Kzzzzat!
“Huh?”
The despicable duo both turned their gaze at the (very expensive) machine’s failure to launch. The cause? A small, bat-shaped projectile was lodged in the chassis. Little sparks of friction flew as the gears still attempted to turn, causing the machine to grow steadily hotter.
“Not tonight, Joker.”
The voice seemed to come from nowhere, yet at the same time seemed to emanate from every wall in Wayne Manor. It was dark and heavy, ‘Joker’ may as well have been the most disgusting word in the dictionary. The crowd looked around, temporarily broken from the trance of fear that the Harlequin of Hate had placed them under. Even Harley couldn’t help but whip her neck back and forth in hopes of gaining the upper-hand against her most persistent of foes.
The only one who didn’t seem fazed was the Joker himself, who stared piercingly towards the chandelier.
“I just knew you’d come!” Joker answered lovingly, “If I know one thing it’s that there’s not a party in town you don’t want to leave your guano all over!”
“Puddin’, what should we—“
“Quiet, you’ll ruin our back and forth!” Joker snapped at his henchwench before returning to the matter at hand, “I figured you might show up, you ol’ spoil-sport, but you’re too late, Batman!”
A shadowy figure drops from the chandelier to the floor, rising to reveal...
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