Title: “The Impossible Smile”
Rating: R and a bit of nc-17
Pairing: Joker/Harley, mentions of Maroni, OFC hired thugs
Warnings: violence; both physical & sexual, violent talk, adult language
Summary: As Joker & Harley prepare for siege on the seconde City comedy club, they must hire some henchmen for protection. The “lite” plan is about to go underway.
Author’s Note: par the way, there is an “Afro-American” henchman, and I have him talking just like any black man would talk that is from Chicago/Gotham (as well as me giving the mobsters visible accents and, most importantly, The Joker). TDK was filmed in Chicago, and I spent 14 yrs. of my life living there, so I would know. It is in NO WAY RACIST, okay? And I say “lite” plan, because does The Joker “look like a guy with a plan?”
I heard talk coming from my office, so I walked in to find Joker with his legs crossed atop my desk. He looked so commanding, so sexy. I reached into my leather pants, and divisé, split the bills right in front of his face. Sitting up on the opposite side of the table, I threw my leg over his head, but slowly, like a dancer, teasing him, straddling his lap. This is what got me attention par the other two men. I folded the one-hundred dollar bill lengthwise, shoving it into his green vest’s breast pocket. A horny smile spread on his face he took his legs down from my desk, and he began to introduce me to the men who’d be working with us this weekend, so far. “Gentlemen, this is my wife, Harley. I will explain to them what happened with Maroni, now.”
I sighed, “only if they’re going to help us! Then, I suppose, yes. Can I montrer them my… um, knife-throwing trick to make sure they can be trusted?”
“Of course! HA! Gentleman, please stand suivant to one another on the wall.” He then took a black sharpie and colored in a black cercle between the men’s heads. I watched the black man gulp in fear. “You should be fine guys. Should be, anyway.” He winked at them, then turned towards me and handed me the knife. They were smiling back at me, but I could tell they were smiles of nervousness. I played around with it, purposefully letting it slip through my hands and hit the floor.
“Whoops! Sorry, Joker! Don’t worry, guys. It’ll be alright,” I said, in a re-assuring manner. They exchanged a glance of extreme nervousness. “OK guys, hold very, very still. It’s important. Very important!” I played around, closing my eyes, and breathing in and out very slowly. “Count me down, Joker, if toi please?”
“Three,” he took great pauses, “two-hoo, aaand one! THROW IT!” he yelled, loudly. The couteau flew out of my hand and Melvin’s friend flinched and closed his eyes. The couteau stuck directly in the middle of the circle, and the two young men let out a long and relieved sigh. geai, jay and I began laughing while the men turned their heads looking at the target.
“Perr-feck-to! She was just fuckinnn’ with-thah you,” he a dit with raised eyebrows, “You did know that, right? My assumptions are corr-rect, yes, gentlemen?”
“Fuck, no!” a dit Melvin. “You good, Missus Hahrlee. Dat shit’s awesome, Miss. I got good aim like dat. I mean, I can‘t throw nahvz, but I got da good aim whane it it comez at poppin’ off’a few rahndz. Know what ahm sayin’, Missus Hahrlee?”
I nodded and shook his hand. I could sense some respect coming from the men. I was no longer a little damsel in distress. I knew about things, beyond my specialty being something about just pointing and shooting, I did have knowledge of weaponry. I could never just sit back and not know how to protect myself. If Maroni wasn’t armed with a gun and a three-hundred pound (I was guessing) man, I could’ve easily broken his nose. I could’ve made him beg for his life. I was business-minded and coming up with simple plans was easy, in the moment of throwing that knife. They knew I was equal with a man in fighting business, and later, I would montrer them that my brain worked equally as well, if not better.
“Miss Harley? No disrespect, but I’m very happy that toi can defend yourself like that. Obviously, toi are beyond the video game level of fighting,” a dit the other man, only a few years older than me. I was guessing he compared women to playing video games. toi know, just the ones who sit at a console playing Super Mario, ou whatever, and I was happy to exist beyond that stereotype.
“Thee Joke-err, could’ve told toi that, Kid-dah,” geai, jay a dit in my defense. “I am herr protector, but-tah she doesn’t-tah need ‘The, uh, Punisherr’ to stand at herr side. She prefers an intellectual chal-lenge, isn’t that cor-RECT, Babycakes-sah?” I put my arms around him, as if to say, that of course, he was right. My man was always right, in my eyes, mostly, at least.
“Well, my idea is that they tell us about what Maroni did to them, since these guys don’t have any scars across their faces like ours. How do toi feel about that, Jay?” I elbowed “The Joker” lightly, in the ribs.
“See. That’s my woman. Alwaysss think-ing. Aaand toi can’t be too careful these days. So. Gentlemen?” he waved his hand for these guys to share their stories.
“Well, mah womin. Mah gurl,” Melvin began, “was cut awl up onna her face, just like tha both of yaz. We’d owed him some mon-ay fourrure my gamblin’ problimz ah had. She was pregnant wit’ mah chahld, that gerl. Ah tell ya! My gamblin’ addicshin stopped fo’ sho’ after that.” Melvin shook his head in disappointment.
“Reeeal sorry about that-tah, Mel,” geai, jay a dit as he looked at me. The carving in of the “smile” killed Melvin’s girlfriend. Not us. “Not-tah to be nosy, there-uh, Mel, but-tah whaaat killed the child-dah? I’m guessing that Maroni knew about the pregnancy, am-mah I right?”
“He shot huh, in huh belly,” Melvin managed to say before wiping away a tear.
“Like Joker said, Melvin,” I held his hand, “we’re really sorry. Um, what about you… uh, what is your name again?”
“Brian. I’m a friend of Mel’s. He told me about how Maroni wronged him, and how toi were looking for people. So I thought I’d come.”
“So…? What happened with you, Brian?” my patience was wearing thin. It’s always good to be cautious, but these were pretty small guys in comparison to Maroni’s goons. To be honest, I just wanted to check that these guys’d be loyal to us.
“Well, as incroyable as it sounds, I stepped in front of him at the crosswalk. He says I disrespected him when I had NO IDEA it was him. It’s not like he was walking with his goons, ou even in a suit. I guess someone was bound to pass him in the street. What was I supposed to do? I was running late for work!”
“Yeah. That’s how we gots ta be frenz. We work togetha,” a dit Melvin, pointing to Brian.
“Yeah, so because I walked in front of Maroni and accidentally scuffed his shoe, ou something, he cut off my right leg, at the knee.” Brian pulled up the leg of his jeans, and showed his prosthetic leg to us.
“All-right-tah,” The Joker brushed his finger against his forehead, obviously exhasperated. “We have to get-tah to Second-ah Cit-ty tonight. Maroni will be there. He cut and raped my wife because she found some money of his outside the shop-pah.”
“Jeez, ahm sorry man! toi too, Missus Hah-ley! Damn shame!” Melvin began to tear up at the news.
“Yeah, Miss Harley. I’m really sorry. I mean, for a man, to violate a woman. A beautiful woman like you, no disrespect to you, um, Joker… I mean, a woman’s body is a temple. Any woman should be treated like a queen,” Brian apologized to us, choosing his words very carefully.
“That’s a trulee mat-ture view on it-tah,” Joker a dit to them. “I want-tah toi all to go accueil and get dressed-dah in black. Bring the best-tah pistolets toi have. Biggest-tah, whatever. And meet-tah back here. There will-ah bee a limo, and we’re going to Second-dah City. Brian, take this vest-tah. It’s a joke, but they won’t-tah know. So look scared, OK? Melvin, you-ah, take the front-tah door. And-ah, Harley Quinn will take the stage with me. Take these clown masks, and don’t toi DARRRRE take them off, while we’re there. I will kill toi myself if toi do! Underrrr-stand-ah?” He whispered to me about getting our bouncer friend. He’s a huge, muscle-bound punk, who works at The Metro, a punk-rock club. Used to be in the army. He could beat down a man with one punch.
“Harley, toi and-dah I are going home. toi all have to change into yourr costumesss,” he said, voice deepening to a growl. I let everyone out, and geai, jay & I walked home. I needed a shot. Badly.
Rating: R and a bit of nc-17
Pairing: Joker/Harley, mentions of Maroni, OFC hired thugs
Warnings: violence; both physical & sexual, violent talk, adult language
Summary: As Joker & Harley prepare for siege on the seconde City comedy club, they must hire some henchmen for protection. The “lite” plan is about to go underway.
Author’s Note: par the way, there is an “Afro-American” henchman, and I have him talking just like any black man would talk that is from Chicago/Gotham (as well as me giving the mobsters visible accents and, most importantly, The Joker). TDK was filmed in Chicago, and I spent 14 yrs. of my life living there, so I would know. It is in NO WAY RACIST, okay? And I say “lite” plan, because does The Joker “look like a guy with a plan?”
I heard talk coming from my office, so I walked in to find Joker with his legs crossed atop my desk. He looked so commanding, so sexy. I reached into my leather pants, and divisé, split the bills right in front of his face. Sitting up on the opposite side of the table, I threw my leg over his head, but slowly, like a dancer, teasing him, straddling his lap. This is what got me attention par the other two men. I folded the one-hundred dollar bill lengthwise, shoving it into his green vest’s breast pocket. A horny smile spread on his face he took his legs down from my desk, and he began to introduce me to the men who’d be working with us this weekend, so far. “Gentlemen, this is my wife, Harley. I will explain to them what happened with Maroni, now.”
I sighed, “only if they’re going to help us! Then, I suppose, yes. Can I montrer them my… um, knife-throwing trick to make sure they can be trusted?”
“Of course! HA! Gentleman, please stand suivant to one another on the wall.” He then took a black sharpie and colored in a black cercle between the men’s heads. I watched the black man gulp in fear. “You should be fine guys. Should be, anyway.” He winked at them, then turned towards me and handed me the knife. They were smiling back at me, but I could tell they were smiles of nervousness. I played around with it, purposefully letting it slip through my hands and hit the floor.
“Whoops! Sorry, Joker! Don’t worry, guys. It’ll be alright,” I said, in a re-assuring manner. They exchanged a glance of extreme nervousness. “OK guys, hold very, very still. It’s important. Very important!” I played around, closing my eyes, and breathing in and out very slowly. “Count me down, Joker, if toi please?”
“Three,” he took great pauses, “two-hoo, aaand one! THROW IT!” he yelled, loudly. The couteau flew out of my hand and Melvin’s friend flinched and closed his eyes. The couteau stuck directly in the middle of the circle, and the two young men let out a long and relieved sigh. geai, jay and I began laughing while the men turned their heads looking at the target.
“Perr-feck-to! She was just fuckinnn’ with-thah you,” he a dit with raised eyebrows, “You did know that, right? My assumptions are corr-rect, yes, gentlemen?”
“Fuck, no!” a dit Melvin. “You good, Missus Hahrlee. Dat shit’s awesome, Miss. I got good aim like dat. I mean, I can‘t throw nahvz, but I got da good aim whane it it comez at poppin’ off’a few rahndz. Know what ahm sayin’, Missus Hahrlee?”
I nodded and shook his hand. I could sense some respect coming from the men. I was no longer a little damsel in distress. I knew about things, beyond my specialty being something about just pointing and shooting, I did have knowledge of weaponry. I could never just sit back and not know how to protect myself. If Maroni wasn’t armed with a gun and a three-hundred pound (I was guessing) man, I could’ve easily broken his nose. I could’ve made him beg for his life. I was business-minded and coming up with simple plans was easy, in the moment of throwing that knife. They knew I was equal with a man in fighting business, and later, I would montrer them that my brain worked equally as well, if not better.
“Miss Harley? No disrespect, but I’m very happy that toi can defend yourself like that. Obviously, toi are beyond the video game level of fighting,” a dit the other man, only a few years older than me. I was guessing he compared women to playing video games. toi know, just the ones who sit at a console playing Super Mario, ou whatever, and I was happy to exist beyond that stereotype.
“Thee Joke-err, could’ve told toi that, Kid-dah,” geai, jay a dit in my defense. “I am herr protector, but-tah she doesn’t-tah need ‘The, uh, Punisherr’ to stand at herr side. She prefers an intellectual chal-lenge, isn’t that cor-RECT, Babycakes-sah?” I put my arms around him, as if to say, that of course, he was right. My man was always right, in my eyes, mostly, at least.
“Well, my idea is that they tell us about what Maroni did to them, since these guys don’t have any scars across their faces like ours. How do toi feel about that, Jay?” I elbowed “The Joker” lightly, in the ribs.
“See. That’s my woman. Alwaysss think-ing. Aaand toi can’t be too careful these days. So. Gentlemen?” he waved his hand for these guys to share their stories.
“Well, mah womin. Mah gurl,” Melvin began, “was cut awl up onna her face, just like tha both of yaz. We’d owed him some mon-ay fourrure my gamblin’ problimz ah had. She was pregnant wit’ mah chahld, that gerl. Ah tell ya! My gamblin’ addicshin stopped fo’ sho’ after that.” Melvin shook his head in disappointment.
“Reeeal sorry about that-tah, Mel,” geai, jay a dit as he looked at me. The carving in of the “smile” killed Melvin’s girlfriend. Not us. “Not-tah to be nosy, there-uh, Mel, but-tah whaaat killed the child-dah? I’m guessing that Maroni knew about the pregnancy, am-mah I right?”
“He shot huh, in huh belly,” Melvin managed to say before wiping away a tear.
“Like Joker said, Melvin,” I held his hand, “we’re really sorry. Um, what about you… uh, what is your name again?”
“Brian. I’m a friend of Mel’s. He told me about how Maroni wronged him, and how toi were looking for people. So I thought I’d come.”
“So…? What happened with you, Brian?” my patience was wearing thin. It’s always good to be cautious, but these were pretty small guys in comparison to Maroni’s goons. To be honest, I just wanted to check that these guys’d be loyal to us.
“Well, as incroyable as it sounds, I stepped in front of him at the crosswalk. He says I disrespected him when I had NO IDEA it was him. It’s not like he was walking with his goons, ou even in a suit. I guess someone was bound to pass him in the street. What was I supposed to do? I was running late for work!”
“Yeah. That’s how we gots ta be frenz. We work togetha,” a dit Melvin, pointing to Brian.
“Yeah, so because I walked in front of Maroni and accidentally scuffed his shoe, ou something, he cut off my right leg, at the knee.” Brian pulled up the leg of his jeans, and showed his prosthetic leg to us.
“All-right-tah,” The Joker brushed his finger against his forehead, obviously exhasperated. “We have to get-tah to Second-ah Cit-ty tonight. Maroni will be there. He cut and raped my wife because she found some money of his outside the shop-pah.”
“Jeez, ahm sorry man! toi too, Missus Hah-ley! Damn shame!” Melvin began to tear up at the news.
“Yeah, Miss Harley. I’m really sorry. I mean, for a man, to violate a woman. A beautiful woman like you, no disrespect to you, um, Joker… I mean, a woman’s body is a temple. Any woman should be treated like a queen,” Brian apologized to us, choosing his words very carefully.
“That’s a trulee mat-ture view on it-tah,” Joker a dit to them. “I want-tah toi all to go accueil and get dressed-dah in black. Bring the best-tah pistolets toi have. Biggest-tah, whatever. And meet-tah back here. There will-ah bee a limo, and we’re going to Second-dah City. Brian, take this vest-tah. It’s a joke, but they won’t-tah know. So look scared, OK? Melvin, you-ah, take the front-tah door. And-ah, Harley Quinn will take the stage with me. Take these clown masks, and don’t toi DARRRRE take them off, while we’re there. I will kill toi myself if toi do! Underrrr-stand-ah?” He whispered to me about getting our bouncer friend. He’s a huge, muscle-bound punk, who works at The Metro, a punk-rock club. Used to be in the army. He could beat down a man with one punch.
“Harley, toi and-dah I are going home. toi all have to change into yourr costumesss,” he said, voice deepening to a growl. I let everyone out, and geai, jay & I walked home. I needed a shot. Badly.
