This choice: Harley makes her BIG debut one year later—as the CEO of Happy Pie Baking Co?! • Go Back... All across the city, televisions were tuned to Channel 52.
Office lobbies, dentist offices, a couple of fast food chains with way too much money. Crummy bars like the Zero Hour with old fatback TV's hung overhead blared in the signature sound of GNN's introductory tune. Screen all across Gotham City welcomed the sight of Jack Rider behind the desk, his arms folded professionally as he welcomed the audience back from their commercial break. Living rooms and tiny televisions, even some mobile phones shone against the backlight as he did his fake little smile and dance to Gotham and its neighboring city.
"Welcome back everybody to Gotham News Network, so happy that everyone's back." Jack flashed all his pretty pearly whites to Camera 1, "We're, uh... we've actually got a treat for everyone today, pardon the pun."
"That's right, Jack, today we'll be interviewing... well, we've scored the interview of a lifetime here today folks." Summer Gleeson's newscaster voice was spot on, "Former costumed supervillain Harleen Quinzelle, better known as Harley Quinn to you cape watchers out there, has done what most would... well, what most would have considered impossible."
"Well said, Summer." the two hid their disdain for each other well as the camera panned back to feature both of them in the shot, "It seems Dr. Quinzelle—am I right on that, she's a doctor?—has turned her luck around and hung up her tights for good, choosing instead to—get this, folks—open up a pie factory right here in Gotham City."
"You heard it here, folks." Summer chuckled, "Vicki Vale, live on the scene with Dr. Harleen Quinzelle, founder of Happy Pie Baking Company."
***
There was a slight feedback on the microphone as the Gotham City symphony of cars and pedestrians flooded the airwaves. Onscreen was star reporter Vicki Vale, dressed in her finest winter attire. Her blonde hair came down just to the collar of her trench coat, her neck wrapped in a fashionable scarf. Ms. Vale was once a very slight woman, with camera-friendly good looks and dazzling blue eyes that made her a promising addition to the GNN billboard. However, in recent weeks, Vicki had been filling out noticeably. Her middle had softened oh so slightly into a troublesome little pot belly. Her face had widened, as had her arms her chest and, most unfortunately for her wardrobe, her butt. She'd taken off one of her gloves in order to avoid getting glazing on it—Vicki had been in the middle of sampling yet another free giveaway from the HPBC as the feed cut to her, leading her to duck the half-eaten pie sheepishly behind her back.
She swallowed.
"That's right, good morning Gotham City!" little flakes of sugar dotted the corner of her mouth, "I'm here at the Happy Pie Baking Company in Gotham's Industrial District, where founder Harleen Quinzelle—formerly known as the costumed criminal Harley Quinn—has decided to give back to the community that she so often terrorized."
The feed cut yet again to another blonde woman, the stylish vector lines edited into the shot read "Dr. Harleen Quinzelle", but you would have had a hard time finding anyone who believed it.
Harley Quinn had become a big name villain in her own right. Lots of people knew Harley Quinn—she was practically a household name among cape watchers and superhero fetishists. Her skimpy outfits and her crazy devotion to one of the sickest, most deplorable men in Gotham City easily made headlines. Up until about a year and a half ago, after a failed attack on the GCPD Building, most assumed that she had been taken care of like so many loose ends in the Joker's life. Her fans mourned her, the Bats were left quietly scratching their heads, and her friends waited for the day when she would make her eventual return—after all, it wasn't like anyone stayed gone in this town, right?
But no one, no one would have ever guessed that Harley had gotten fat.
The woman inside the newly renovated factory was officious looking as she was enormous. With small cat-eyed glasses balanced precariously along the bridge of her nose and her blonde hair in a tight little bun, her swaddling chins and chubby cheeks looked that much bigger than they were. The way she sat, Harley looked to have no neck as her ring of white neck flab crested against the pillowy cushion of her fatty chest. Her red business suit must have been tailored for a hippopotamus; she was a sea of burgundy and black, with her arms filling the sleeves of her blazer to maximum capacity. It was to the point where everyone could clearly see the fold where her arm fat began to sag over her elbow. And her gut, that gut, rested comfortably on the desk in front of her. The only hint that it was Harley at all was the color scheme and the pale white skin that her little chemical bath had left her with—otherwise, no one would have guessed that this humongous hiefer was once the Clown Princess of Crime.
"Thank you, Vicki, for that wonderful introduction," she said in her most professional-sounding voice. Her accent was tapered and her mind clear, "And thank you, GNN for allowing me to formally announce my plans—"
Here, everyone who had ever witnessed one of Gotham City's criminals make their agenda known on television instinctively cringed.
"—to open up my factory doors." Harleen continued, sighs all across the city sounding, "I started this factory as a chance to give back to my hometown, and what better way than to help decrease unemployment by offering steady work for the good people of Gotham?"
"Oh I think you've given back plenty to Gotham City, considering." Vicki laughed on the other side of the screen, "Tell me, what made you decide to give up on being Harley Quinn? And what's more... why a pie factory? If you don't mind me asking... they're really good..."
"Well, we've all gotta grow up sometime, don't we?" Harley said warmly, not affected at all by the question, "Besides, I think it's well past time for me to hang up my tights. It's a younger, thinner girl's game."
Here Harley lifted up her pale white belly, cloaked beneath her black blouse, and gave it a good squeeze that threatened the integrity of her buttons.
"Well said, well said." Vicki laughed, "And, again, why a pie factory?"
"You kiddin'?" Harley's accent slipped a little, "Who knows more about pies than someone who used to be a clown?"
Vicki laughed again, this time a bit more uneasy.
"The truth is, my Ma used to make these when we were kids." Harley composed herself a bit more, "I asked her for the recipe one day and... well, the rest is history. That's all, folks."
"Wonderful, just wonderful." Vicki said, her rounder face reddening in the cold, "So, it's pretty chilly out here, and I've got to get back to the studio before my nose falls off. Do you have any words you'd like to leave on for Gotham City on your big public debut?"
"Of course..." Harley said with a smile...
***
All across Gotham City, television screens were glued to Harley Quinn and her humongous success. No one could take their eyes off of the whale of a woman that used to rob banks and throw pies at police officer's faces.
The television of one person in particular, however, was a bit different than the others...
"I don't believe it!" said...   indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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