Harley's face flushed deep red as Pamela's hand came back and pinched her firmly on the butt. She jolted upright with a gasp, eyes wide, staring at Pamela like she'd just lost her mind.
Barbara stood beside them, deadpan as always. "Does this count as workplace harassment?"
Pamela burst out laughing, loud and unbothered. "You bet your fine ass it does. I'll harass you later, Barbara."
Joker blinked rapidly, struggling to process what he was witnessing. "What the hell is wrong with you girls? Even I don't harass Harley like this during work hours!"
Pamela tilted her head, voice light and unshaken. "Well, maybe you should have. Otherwise, why am I now starting to steal your girlfriend from you?"
Joker's whole body trembled as rage bubbled up through his thin frame. His fists tightened at his sides, the veins in his neck pulsing visibly. He opened his mouth to speak—but before he could, something wet slapped him across the face.
The giant Midnight Rose, crouched behind them, had just finished digesting the henchmen it devoured earlier. It hunched forward and spat out a single loose shoe. The shoe flew across the tent and smacked Joker squarely in the face, leaving a brown streak across his cheek and smearing his white makeup.
Barbara burst out laughing. "Oh my god—that's makeup? I thought your skin was actually clown-white!"
Joker rubbed at his cheek furiously. "No, I—I don't know what you're talking about! There's no makeup on my face!"
Pamela raised an eyebrow, half appalled, half amused. "Wait, are you telling me you've been wearing shoe polish on your face this entire time? Your skin's normal? I had to brainwash Harley into taking that crap off hers—what's wrong with you?"
Joker's lips parted as he tried to think of a response, but no sound came out. His hand trembled where it still held his cane.
"Harley, you can't leave me," he said suddenly, his voice cracking. "I need you! Who's gonna do all the stuff for me? Who's gonna abduct everyone, pay everybody?"
Harley crossed her arms, unimpressed. "Joker, you don't pay me or anybody else. You just keep all the money—or you burn it."
Joker shook his head violently. "That's—that's not true!"
Harley took a step closer, her tone even and sharp. "Then why did I steal that two million from the police lockup a few days ago and use it to expand our business?"
Joker's jaw dropped. "You stole two million dollars from the police lockup?!"
Harley shrugged, eyes steady. "Exactly. And we got away scot-free. Batman doesn't even know."
Pamela leaned back slightly, watching Joker's reaction. The air seemed to drain from the tent as he stared at them, shoulders sagging with disbelief. "I don't know how you're doing this," he muttered. "Batman always stops every crime I try to commit a crime. The last time I tried to blow up Lois Lane to attack Superman Batman stopped me mid-explosion!"
Pamela's voice turned almost thoughtful. "Oh, Harley… I can't wait for us to fight Superman and Batman one-on-one. We'll waste them."
Then she paused, her expression cooling into calculation. "Of course, we'll have our minions do it. We can't afford to be discovered too soon."
Harley nodded solemnly. "I've learned the secret art of the dramatic reveal from you, Pamela. We run Gotham from the shadows—and eventually, we'll emerge as the criminal overlords of humanity."
Barbara folded her arms behind them, her gaze distant but amused as all three women threw back their heads at once, their laughter echoing through the derelict carnival tent. The sound rolled off the rusted metal beams above, bouncing across the broken carousel and cracked mirrors, until the whole place seemed to hum with it.
Joker stood motionless, staring at them as the sound faded. "What the hell's going on here?" he demanded finally. "What have they done to you, Harley?"
All three women immediately started laughing.
"Muhahahaha!!!"
"This doesn't mean we're together just because I'm resting my head on your shoulder," Harley muttered, her voice soft but defiant. "This is cuddling—and nothing more."
Pamela rolled her eyes with a faint, amused sigh. "Sure, sure."
Joker's face twitched, replaced by disbelief and something darker. His hands trembled as he pointed at them, his voice rising. "You can't just—just steal Harley! She's mine! She was my creation!"
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