Joker's Journal - 3

#17

Harley gets shit done when she's motivated. She finished every task on the checklist within a day. Sometimes I don't know what I'd do without her.

Timmy is out of the picture. Well... most of him anyway. We have an air mattress. Three, in fact. And I really didn't think Harley was going to be able to get rid of the cockroaches. She did. Sorta.

You know what she did? She went to a pet store and bought a bunch of little lizards called geckos. They eat the cockroaches as if they're potato chips. Pretty ingenious idea, actually. She learns from the best. The henchmen hate them. It's become a nightly prank for us to put the little lizards in the weapon boxes to scare the henchmen when they go to get their guns the next morning. And the funny thing is: They can't shoot the geckos because the weapons are under them. Haha!

But now we have a lizard infestation instead of a cockroach infestation. So, some of them have to die. I've learned that lizards are funner to dissect than insects. Duh, they have bigger bodies. More guts. Actual brains. And they fit perfectly in one hand, leaving your other hand free to hold the knife.

Hey, thats what I do when I'm bored. Or deeply in thought. Dissect the geckos. Besides, Harley likes it when I'm her "biology" teacher. Yes, another sick bonding activity. Aren't we a cute little morbid couple?

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#18

The warehouse is still too damn small. We have fifteen henchmen. Usually thats our minimum. This time it's our maximum. It's so crowded, if one person sneezes, the spray hits us from under our door. If one person stretches, their elbow hits the wall and gives us a bruise from the other side.

I told Harley I'm getting my sex. One way or another. And soon. She's amused but just as desperately eager, even though she hides it with smirks and giggles.

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#19

Last night I couldn't stand it anymore. I hauled her off to a hotel. We made good use of our new disguises, and they worked. We snuck in and got a room. It was a nice hotel.

She suggested we go there again next time. I have no objections.

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#20

It's been a good month. Batman shoved us down, we got back up again, and everything is back to normal. It feels good when you climb over a mountain and get past that uphill battle. Now I'm making another go at the orphanage again. This time, THIS time, I won't fail.

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#21

Number twenty was my last entry. Last as in, final. I'm not writing anymore. That's what Harley told me. She's allowed me to stop.

It's not like she was still continuing to force me before, no, I've been doing them on my own since the tenth attempt. All on my own free will. Now I'm not going to write anymore. Twenty was my last one. No more journal for Joker.

At least, no more entries that Harley has to know about. From now on, I'm burning every page I write. So she can't ever see them.

After this sentence, I'm burning this one.

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#22

What happened to the orphanage, you ask? It burnt down. Batman saved as many kids as he could, which wasn't a lot. He's still pissed off at me, which is amusing. Usually after I go on a mass massacre, he hunts high and low for my hideout. I don't know if he'll find me or not. That guy can be pretty determined when I set off his short fuse.

I'm sitting here waiting, giddy as a schoolgirl. It's been three days. He'll find me at any moment. I'm sure of it.

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#23

She's beautiful. Harley. She really is. I say this with... I'll admit it, sadness.

She doesn't deserve me. Sometimes I wish she knew that.

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#24

Batman hasn't found me. I'm disappointed. And mad. Because I spent the last four days on the defensive side, waiting for him to show up. Waste of my time. Now I want to strike out again, give him another chance at finding me.

Maybe I'll go to Bruce Wayne's party tonight. Harley's been wanting to show off her body in a nice dress from some time now. I guess I could let her show off tonight.

That means I have to get a tux. And put on skin colored prosthetic clay to hide my scars. I hate that stuff.

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#25

Burnt the mansion down. Bruce should be getting used to that by now HAHA! Being rich really puts a target on your back huh Brucey? Poor homeless rich boy.

We almost killed him. So close. We talked at the bar at the beginning of the party. He complimented Harley's dress and I glared at him. I could tell he was drunk, so I let him off the hook easy. Drunk bastard mumbled that he thought I looked familiar.

I told him I get that alot. If he wasn't as drunk, I think he would have recognized me. Harley distracted and flirted with him and snuck off in a quiet room with him, making him think he was getting lucky. After I took control of the party, with the host gone, I gave her five minutes to kill him before setting off the bombs.

When she didn't come out of the room, I went in to see her unconscious. Bruce must have had bodyguards follow them inside, although I never saw any. I carried her out before the building collapsed. She still hasn't stopped apologising for her failure. It's no big deal to me if the millionaire escaped. I was happy enough seeing his house ablaze.