Outer Scars, Inner Demons

Outer Scars, Inner Demons
A RP Fic by Spug & Bianca Marou

Chapter Two: The World Like an Upside Down Clown


Gordon: "Code 3, All units proceed immediately to the Iceberg. 11-6, Possible multiple 30s," the dispatcher's broken voice came over the speaker.

"What the hell has the damned bird gotten himself into now," Bullock grumbled pissilly at his desk, feet crossed over one another. "Fuckin' blueblood's lawyer got him off on circumstantial evidence. Why do the freaks in this fuckin' city gotta have so many resources, huh? The get away with all sorts of shit just because they got a dime or two. I bet the Bats is rich is shit."

Montoya was grabbing up her gun and putting it into her holster, then she snagged his wrist. "Come on, Harvey. We've gotta get movin'."

"What the hell!?" he grudgingly started to rise from his chair though, reaching for his hat and coat hanging from the back of it as soon as his hand was free. "'C’mon, babe, they'll never miss us, lets just hang back here," he pleaded, though he was sliding his coat on anyway, knowing full well she wouldn't listen. "Do you really want to end this day with a shootout?"

"I'd notice," Gordon said, walking away from his office and straightening his collar. Bullock winced and put on his hat and pulled his brim down, burying his embarrassment with a soundless curse.

"Don't worry, we're on it, sir," Montoya covered, turning up the sound to the radio on her hip.

~*~
It didn't take long for the pavement outside the casino to pulse with a multitude of flashing sirens and search lights. When he pulled up in his car, Gordon looked around. This place made him a little dizzy now, every time he ran into it now he was reminded of that dizzying moment before he almost plummeted to the ground.

You could have been imbedded in this pavement if it hadn't been for the Dark Knight.

He had to get on his game face, though. Deep breath. Straightening of the tie. Firm left foot step out of his vehicle. He walked over to the officer in charge.

"What's going on?"

"We don't know what exactly is going on, but we believe it's turned into a hostage situation. Whoever is in there hasn't let any of the patrons leave, and there's been some screaming." The chief wiped his sweaty brow. "I think it's best you handle it from here, Commissioner sir." In his hands he held a trembling megaphone, that Gordon took into his own with care, having to unwrap the man's nervous fingers.

"Thank you, Chief," Gordon replied, and turned toward the building. He turned on the megaphone, and after it's shrill introductory screech, he lifted it to his face. "Hello, this is Police Commissioner Gordon. Can I speak to the person in charge?!"

Wesker: Iceberg lounge and casino, bet the damn thing was just crawling with innocent bi standers too, eh? It loomed over the police that had flanked it like a silent tomb for all those still trapped inside. The megaphone screech went unanswered for a good full minute.

Then speakers mounted on each side of the door kicked to life with a static buzz. The kind used for loud announcements and giving away of cars and boots on those first of the months. No one ever realized that these items were stolen in the first place.

" Heya Coppah.. " A scratchy gangster twang leaked out over the police, it was so keen the sound of a few droplets of some kind of liquid splattering against the wood of a desk echoed, along with the breath of the speaker and whines and whimpers of people inside.

" I don'ts like to sit ‘ere and shoot the shit, so I's makes myself real crystal clear and whatnot. You's got TEN MINUTES tah back the fuck off flatfoots and gets me a fast car curbside service. " A low rumbling chuckle, followed by the hiss of light pain.

" ..ors I'll be executin' a jerk a minute after that, and if yah thinks I'm bluffin.. "

From the tenth floor there was a scream and a man came flying through the window, the decent to the ground was quick and he even bounced.

" .. I anit.. So's chop-chop piggies. " The speaker clicked off and silence rained, but then a moment later it clicked back on. " Oh yah, and yah mights wanna send ah ambulance fer the Peck-Peck, we don't want dah dirty burd layin' his final egg on us now would we? Squeak yer toothorn when my ride gets here.. Ten minutes assholes. "

This time the speaker went dead for real.

Gordon: Medics sprung toward the man that had toppled down from so far, not that it did much good. The red splatter he left from his first bounce had some cops tossing their cookies behind their vehicles.

Bullock, however, was unphased. He took a step up near Gordon and shoved the last bits of a donut into his mouth, then licked the glaze off his sausage fingers. "'Kay Gordon, Whatcha want us to do, try and negotiate and send for SWAT? ...." He tilted his head and bent forward to get a good look at Gordon's face. He waved a hand in front of it. "Hey, you in there?"

Gordon's eyes stared behind his glasses. No, no this can't be right. He shot it. He killed it. Arkham said he was gone. It's gotta be some plot by Penguin. This can't be right. His megaphone lowered slowly from his face, and with great delay he looked at Bullock.

"...You know, not to sound a little out of place or anything, sir, but this isn't really the place for blankies and naptime. What do you want us to do?" Bullock said, looking intently at the elder man from under his heavy brim. "The Ventriloquist's gonna practice people-frisbee until we get our asses out of here." A bit of distain entered the man's face. "Knew they shoulda never let that fuckhead out."

"Shut up, Bullock," Gordon said, but there was a weakness in his tone. Even Bullock had recognized the voice. He turned toward the Chief. "Get some snipers out here. Hold them back unless something happens to me."

"Sir?! You're not going to give into his demands, are you?!" the Chief asked in shock.

"There are people in there!" Gordon snapped back, and took in a deep breath. He recollected his courage and turned to Bullock. "You and Montoya get on the horn and find an available vehicle. It's gotta be here in ten minutes. NO LESS" He actually gave the fat detective's shoulder a shove to get him moving and turned back to the building. lifted the megaphone back up to his face and licked his lips. "The car'll be here."

Wesker: Wheels screeched right up onto the grass and pavement outside the iceberg. Cops were lucky, the car arrived nine minutes since the demanded had been made, calling it close, but better almost late then late after all, eh?

The doors to the hotel were kicked open and out came the goons first. Half of them drug hostages with them, an extra precaution just incase the cops decided to open fire. They had to make sure the 'boss' got to the car. This wall of goons spread out, but not too far, didn't want a cop weaseling past them now.

Lookin' good. Flatfoots shouldn't try anything. With the way Dummy looks right now, doubt anyone be able to shoot him straight outta pity, they'll think he's just another hostage being pushed out. Heh, can WAIT tah see the look on that fucker's face.

The afternoon sun made like perfect beacons on those thick frames as the tiny man stepped from the doors of the Iceberg lounge.

It was no mistake it was the Ventriloquist, but the first thing everyone would notice was the lack of Dummy, the second, well the state of the man was not for fair eyes.

His shirt was open, buttons cut off, his bow-tie sliced, All sorts of tears and rips in the suit he was always so fond of wearing. His bowler was cockeyed, his pants were being held up by Penguin's own belt ( It had been wrapped four fucking times. ) But the worst of it was the blood.

The light wind whipped the open shirt showing off still bleeding cuts. Even with a black suit it was still easy to tell his pants were stained. His shirt was stained, his fucking SKIN was stained. But yet, Wesker was smiling, the curve of his grin pushing against a particular nasty slash on his left cheek, still seeping rather nicely.

He paused halfway to the car and turned his head toward where Gordon stood and just stared for a moment. Wesker stared and smiled, just waiting for his expression.

Risky. But what would the jerk do?

Gordon: No, no that can't be him. He was safe when I left him.

His chest tightened under his shirt. What have they done to you, Arnold? All that blood, seeping down from even his pants so it gleamed through the fabric. Oh god what have they done to you?

His eyes widened. That's not Arnold. It was like with the phone. That's the same look I saw him with that night over my bed. That's not Arnold.

His breath started to come in quick gasps, almost hyperventilating. Montoya patted him on the back. "Sir, sir don't panic. Once he's gone they'll let the hostages go," she said with confidence, trying to reassure him.

"Nice one, Renee. I think the old guy's off his rocker today," Bullock mumbled behind them, then raised his eyebrows as his comment was met with the megaphone slipping from the Commissioner's leathery fingers and hitting the ground with an ear-piercing squall than any sort of quick retort.

Wesker: Lookit em. He's gone white as a sheet. Ahaha. He just can't believe it.

Wesker, no Scarface smiled even bigger at the megaphone being dropped. He was so tempted to abandon the car and walk over to the commissioner, pick it and laugh right into his ear with it. Such a sweet moment this was.

" Wazzamatter Jaaaaaaames? " It was trilled right off the bloody little mans tongue. " Yah look like yah seen a fuckin' ghost. But I'm right 'ere kickin'. Yah can thank Peck-Peck for that. " Glass glinted as Scarface tilted Wesker's head. " He really didah BANG up job on em FUCKIN’ em over! Whaddyah think? " The small man twirled for a moment then waved if off and started for the car. " Looks like without Gat.. I mean Batman around all yous can do is just stare and piss yerself. Keep up those hostages, boys! Anyone moves a muscle Yah cap ever single one of these lovely dames heads right off. "

A stand by Goon yanked the passenger side door open for Scarface and the little guy disappeared into the car, but not before twiddling those bloody fingers mockingly at the Commissioner.

Gordon: "SCARFACE!" Gordon bellowed, clear even without the device at his feet. He started to move forward, but Montoya caught him by his elbows. "Bullock! Get over here and help me!"

The hefty man moved in front of the Commissioner, holding to his collar, and pushed him back so hard that his partner had to step out of the way. "What's gotten into you, Commish?! You're actin' like one o' those psycho nut jobs! Stop wiggin' out on us! He didn't even have the puppet on him!"

The Penguin raped him, so just like Black Gate he's turned back to Scarface. He's gotta be just hiding in there somewhere. Gordon staggered back and grabbed hold of the patrol car, being taller than but far less weighty than Bullock, and was thrown off balance by his shove. Control yourself, James. Even Bullock's trying to talk sense into you.

The Chief picked up the abandoned megaphone, and looked back at the string of goons still standing there, waiting for the car to leave, before looking back at Gordon. "What are we gonna do now? How do we know he won't have those jerk-offs off the lot of them once he's gone?"

Before the distraught Commissioner could respond, canisters of smoke fell from far above to the pavement below. Thick smoke spurted out of them, oozing into the air and making it thick as London fog before the GCPD's very eyes. Sure it was an excellent medium for the cowled figure that just swept into it to fight in, but it also provided the perfect concealment for Wesker's escape without being tailed.

No, not Wesker, Scarface. Whatever that was Wesker that was in that car wasn't calling the shots. Or so Gordon kept insisting to himself.

Wesker: " Fuck it's the Ga- I mean the Bat! " Inside the car Scarface growled and ordered the goon who was to come with him to step on the gas. Hopefully they wouldn't run into anything in all this smoke.

Goons were running around in a confused panic and were getting the crap beat out of them as the getaway car spun around and then took off down the road, leaving the Iceberg and the police in it's dust and confusion.

" Dere a phone in here? " Scarface winced a little as he sat up. Damn bird really did do a number on Wesker's body. Laying low might be a good idea. But Nah. The goon passed him back a phone and he dialed a few numbers.

" 'ello Boxy? Yah it's ME. Look I'm callin' yah on a favor, seen ol chuckles lately? "

-

Twenty minutes later most of the goons had been rounded up in neat piles of black leather rope. Amazingly with the Bats intervention, only two people, outside of the slaughter in the Iceberg had been killed.

Currently a few medics were dragging out a half conscious, really beat up, really pissed off little fat bird. His nose was dripping blood, he was missing teeth, his clothes were cut up, and his face was completely red from all the snarling he was doing.

" Call my Lawyer! "

Gordon: Gordon narrowed his eyes at the man standing there, the beady little bird. This time he surged forward paying very careful attention to avoiding the other officers and being snagged, making his way directly at the short little financial titan.

"You freaking bastard! What did you do to him?!" he yelled, bitterness in his tone as he grabbed the bird by the lapels, not caring how injured he was at the moment. The look on his face was one of pure rage, the rage of someone who'd lost someone he cared very much about.

Because Batman had lied. He had loved Wesker.

He didn't really need to ask what he'd done. He could tell from the dismal state of the poor little mouse of a man when he'd left in his car. "You fuck! You absolute monster!" his fingers tightened. "Dr. Arkham had him better! HE WAS DOING BETTER!" His pupils were even dilated, loathing seething out in his voice.

It was moments later that three uniformed officers were pulling him away, hands still clawing at Cobblepot like he wanted to tear out his throat.

Penguin: " Waaugh! " Penguin seemed a bit surprised when Gordon suddenly grabbed him up like that and shook him, snarling in his face. Beady black eyes widened and for a moment the bird felon just strained there on his twinkle-toes wondering what the FUCK was up with Commissioner Gordon. He'd started to sweat.

For once Penguin was happy about the cops when the flatfoots pulled the crazed older man off him. The pudgy little bird keep his dignity, even beat up and missing his pants as Gordon was being dragged off he tugged at his messed up lapels and grinned his crooked sharp ( with a couple of gaps now ) Teeth and seethed very evilly. " .. and now I own him DOUBLE for this little mishap, my dear Commissioner, the second I'm back out ohhh I'll find him, and this time when I'm finished, I'll be cutting the rats head off. " He nashed those pointy teeth under his beak like nose and then squawked again as he was dragged off toward the ambulance.

This wasn't over, not by a long shot. This was one little fat bird that didn't go south when Gotham got chilly. Beady eyes narrowed as the Commissioner was being held in place.

That one. I'm going to keep a Hawkeye on him. The way he carried on, makes me think that perhaps Scarface wasn't lying ab.. Oh ho ho..

and the Penguin's nasty knowing " Wa haaa haaa " laugh echoed out as they slammed the ambulance doors.

~*~

Joker: Happy faces wavered in the sky, round with fixed wide eyes. Grins spread across the lower half of their faces. They bobbed and stared out over Gotham.

It was hard to think that those smiling faces once accompanied the laughter of children and the smell of hot dogs and funnel cakes. Those were in the days before the dock layoffs, and business slowed to a crawl for the carnival owner. The place was vacated, but never really abandoned.

The carnies that once worked there had found themselves a new employer.

Stretching across a bright pink chair that once held a man in a bunny outfit handing out Easter eggs, was a man not nearly so generous. Arm dangling over the side with white hand nearly touching the ground, fingernails painted a lovely shining green at the insistence of the certain female accomplice, purple pinstriped legs dangling over the other side and the front. His other hand ran through mussed up green hair.

"Shnooky, please don't bother me right now with this Iceberg thing. It's Waddlepot's own problem if he pissed off the wrong guy again, just takes some of our competition away from us," he said, proceeding to then rub a temple. "Besides, I'm getting a headache and thinking of his laugh is like pissing to stop a flood."

Scarface: " Awww but puddin' " Thickly painted lips were stuck out in a pout to the relaxing clown prince. A shapely form in red and black leaned partionaly over the chair, giving him big ol blue eyes set quick to bat-bat innocently. Harleen Quinzel's bell cap jingled as she ran gloved fingers through the Joker's green hair.

"I just feel really bad poor birdie got so beat up the other day, Maybe we should send him a Get-well-card or something, I bet we could find one with little chicklets on it or even a little duckie." She might have been certifiable, but she'd not lost all her sense of compassion. Penguin was a little disgusting, but so far, he'd never done anything to her or Mistah J. "We could ride over in the happy balloon and drop stink bombs on the hospital for a show. "

" Why bother? That durty burd stinks 'nough as it is! " A familiar gruff voice rang out from behind the frozen and rusting Merry-Go-Round. In the dim gloom light that surrounded this place so very long forgotten, two perfect circles gleamed off a tiny silhouette. The cherry fire end of a cigar lit up the party crashers face for just a moment as he took a deep inhale, a fresh cut only a few days old visible before the flare died.

"How comes you can't house up somewheres not cliché chuckles? Not like it didn't take me two minutes of scroungin' tah locate yah, it's like yer askin' the bats tah come crashin' down on yer head. "

Joker: A green eyebrow climbed and thin vibrantly red lips, once curved down at the corners, curled up into a smile that reached far too highly on his cheeks. He cackled shrilly, a sound that had made many a victim cringe in the darkness and Harley's pet hyenas perk and wag.

"Why, so I can get pleasant visitors like your own! How's it going Wesker old boy?!" he asked, spinning to a sitting position in his vibrant throne. "With that fashion sense you'd think you were here to sell me some insurance, but you'll never make a sale to me using that gruff tone!" He wagged a finger scolding him, as he spoke.

It hadn't escaped his attention, though, something was very wrong here.

"Shmoochy poo, why don't you be a doll and go get us some nice refreshments. In the nice special occasion glasses, he is company, after all!" He puckered his lips and blew kisses at Harley, batting his eyes.

He looked at the man again in a business like fashion, grin fading. "I don't see you playing with your log, Woody, so what's with the vocals?"

Scarface: " Puppet head? " Harley pressed a gloved hand over her forehead to peer at the shadowy figure by the merry-go-round. She bit her lip as she tried to get a better look. Oh yes, something was off, but she'd not have the time to ponder too much, Mistah J was issuing her. She caught the kiss and swooned a bit. " Okay Mistah J! Drinks coming right up! " And she cart wheeled away.

" Oh ho hoo Clown-boy, yer all sorts of funny. " The small figured slowly moved out of the darkness. Indeed it was not the fashionable bow-tie, bowler combination that mousy little Wesker usually wore. No the outfit was far too similar to the 'log' he usually carried around. Pinstripe suit, studded tie, fedora and that smoking cigar. Scarface had his hands cupped behind his back as he stepped forward. " Only I AM the log, wise guy, Dummy's gone on a special kinda hiatus. "

One hand pulled from his back and Scarface reached up and tapped two thin fingers to his temple. "And if I's gots anythin' to say about it, it's permanent." He grinned almost too viciously for Wesker's little face and came to a stop a few feet from where the clown prince sat. He shifted his vision just for a moment to watch Harley move off and licked his lips.

Gotta love a flexible dame, she was always sweet on Dummy in the Asylum, not overly sweet but we'll work on that..

His attention snapped back to the clown and Scarface tipped up his Fedora. "So nice of yah to greets me with warm welcomes, Clowny. Hows you and the dah doll doin' anyway? "

Not STRAIGHT to the point. It was always a good idea to cater to Joker's odd sense of social value.

Joker: "Perfectly fine! Never been happier!" he quickly snapped out. "In fact we're thinking of going on vacation with the babies this fall, go see Metropolis and get our picture taken in front of the Daily Planet burning down in flames." I'll love seeing that Clark Kent schmuck trying to douse out his hair for calling my humor 'in bad tastes'.

The looks that Scarface was casting his lovely attendant were completely unnoticed, still not sure that the short mobster was being completely honest. He leaned forward in the seat. "Since you're not pitching a policy yet, I'm guessin' you're here on some sort of other business." His brow raised again. "If you're here for the sake of Jimbo, then you might as well turn around and head on home."

His arms came to rest on two alert buttons on the sides of the chair, almost pushing them in. They were imperceptible to the casual viewer, blending in with the eggs decorations, but the second pressed they could bring in a flood of agile and psychotic cronies.

"We all know about that situation, no matter how much Dr. Arkham insisted it was the drugs. Jimbo doesn't like me..." He tapped his chin in feigned confusion, looking up in the air. "Can't imagine why." He swiveled his eyes down to look at that battered face below the brim.

Scarface: Scarface's jaw tightened, really tightened for a moment. Why the hell did he have to pick this smuck to work with? But after all, with what he was carrying in his suit right now, there was really only one eccentric villain that would really want such a thing.

A finger pointed out at the Joker. "Likes I give a shit about what Dummy and that no-good dickwad coppers been doing between the sheets anyway, I anit a Faggot, fer all I care next time yah sees him yah can blow em tah high heaven just like yah did his wife... heh.. can't imagine why. "

The little man took a few more steps forward and stood on the steps before Jokers pink floor. "I anit Wesker, Clown. I'm Scarface, Dummy's GONE, besides, yah, I gots somethin' you'll really be interested in.. but we's needs tah chat about it fois- "

"Here's the Drinks!" Harley came bouncing back into the scene holding a tray with two big plastic cups with clowns all over them, bubbling some kinda cherry-fiz drink. She flipped up to Joker without spilling a drop and handed him his drink then twirled back down and stood on the step above Scarface and lowered the tray. " Puppethead! Hey, I haven't seen yah since Arkham! I thoughts yah were allllllll betttttter. "

She squinted at him. Looking at the change of clothes, looking at the smile he had on his face. Scarface twirled his cigar and lowered his thick frames to wink an eye at her. " 'ey there Doll-face, yer right, I'm allll bettah, feelin' so fine now. "

Joker: "Oh, don't forget lovely little Barbara- Long before I met you, shnookums, don't worry," he took the drink swiftly and lifted the cup to his lips. "Bottoms up, Woody ol' boy. Then we can get to the good stuff."

Speaking of bottoms up, it was sort of irritating to see the Woodpecker eyeballing goodies that were most definitely not on the drink menu as she served them. Red lips pursed tightly. ...But...

"I think he's fixed just fine, Babycakes. He's happier right now than I've ever seen the guy, and nothin' makes me happier than seein' a big pearly grin." He punctuated that with another shrieking laugh, kicking his legs up in the air and switching his position so his legs were up the back of the plastic seat and his head dangling off the seat, looking at Scarface upside down. He never spilled a drop of the drink the whole time.

Scarface: Glasses were pushed back up his nose and he took the drink Harley offered him. He couldn't see past Harley at the Joker so he missed the clowns little scowl at his little flirting. Harley didn't seem to really mind, she found the whole attitude of Scarface inside Wesker's body a bit confusing, but cute as hell. She snagged a cheek ( the cut up one at that! ) in one gloved hand and actually squeezed and pinched.

" Awww, Puppethead, but you were soooo cute as a wooden puppet and I liked Arnie's squeaking. "

" Yow... ow..what the? Owww... Hey Doll, quit it.. quit it.. QUIT IT! " He finally batted Harley's hand away and she stuck her tongue out at him with a giggle and paraded back up to her main man, throwing her arms around his legs that were posed in the air.

Scarface rubbed his cheek for a moment and the eyeballed the pink fizzing cup he had in the other hand. Dunno if I should drink this, could be laced with strict-nine or somethin', then again Clown usually attempts to see what’s up before he kills ah mack. Bottoms up indeed.

Scarface took a swig and had to fight to keep his face from making well.. a face. SWEET. STRONG. UGH. What the FUCK was this CRAP? He swallowed down the rest of it and let out a hard gasp. What a fruity drink. Bet dummy woulda loved it.

"Yah -cough- really delicish there, Jokah. But tah business." Scarface climbed the stairs, reaching into his suit, he pulled out a folded piece of paper, looked like a photocopy, and held it out toward Joker's upside-down head.

If one squinted to see the ink on the other side, the words 'escape' and 'straightjacket' were visible.

Joker: Red lips pursed together again. He handed his drink to Harley before his white hands dove into his pockets, pulling out a pair of tight purple gloves that he slid onto them. His fingers wiggled in place.

He stretched out an arm and took the paper and unfolded it.

"HOLY SANTA HUMPIN' HUMPIN' A REIGNDEER'S BUTTOCK!" He rolled himself around again, hopping to his feet in front of the shorter older man (at least in body) and grabbed him by the collar, letting the paper flitter to the ground.

"Okay woodpecker, where did you find it and where is it now!?" he demanded. "That can't be what I think it is and if it is I WANT PROOF." The humor in his tone was temporarily lost in his irate expression, one that only crossed his face in moments of particular frustration.

That damn thing isn't even supposed to exist. How did this low class buttchild of Al Pachino and a Lincoln Log run across that baby.

...The Joker had very good reason to disbelieve what had been placed before him.

Scarface: Scarface gritted his teeth as Joker took hold of his collar and yanked him up. The smaller man was pulled onto his tiptoes. For a moment a flash of ol Wesker was spotted and the empty glass clattered to the ground, but Scarface quickly gained control.

He reached up and began plucking at Joker's gloved fingers nonchalantly. " So I'm nots much intah artifacts, but half a million from the Super-Tricksters home in Harlem in NahYork, I can dig that. If yah remember a few years or so ago, the ol museum was gonna have a huge display of some of his earlier cages and what not, but the whole damn stock disappeared. " A grin spread even wider on the older man's face. " Heh. Dockworkers are so easy tah pay off. "

" Anyways it was a load of junk, but I was gonna try pawning it off on Nigma, I knew he'd just cream himself with the opportunity tah have some of those things in his possession, unfortunately dah Ga.. I mean the Bats came down on us.. Tah make a long story short.. " He pried off Jokers last finger and took a few steps back smiling smugly. " Rhino n BatBrains smashed just about everythin' fightin'. I found this really dusty notebook with REALLY horrible handwrittin' after they'd destroyed one of the glass cages, musta been hidden in the panels by light reflection or somethin' really neat trick.. "

He tugged at his lapels and swirled his cigar. "But I's not shittin' yah clown, I's gots the whole thing. I can sell yah a page at a time or we's can work out a deal fer the whole book. Thinka the stunts you'll pull... "

Joker: Harry -fuckin'- Houdini's journal. Of all the things that Scarface could present the Joker with. Diamonds would have been thrown down the steps carelessly. Money would have been used to light the deranged puppeteers face up in flames. But THIS. Edward Nigma could go jack that cane of his, this was far too good for a loser like him.

He could escape out of most of Batman's traps with these. And with Arkham's straightjackets? They'd never be able to pin him down. Oh, Termite Brain doesn't know what he has here. All he thinks it is a bargaining deal. Sure, I'll buy in. Sooner or later Bat's'll move in on whatever this lame-o's got planned and I'll have the ticket to ride and he'll be goin' straight to the slammer.

"Why, for me?!" he beamed joyously, clasping his hands together and batting his eyes, posing in a feigned southern belle posture. "Mr. Beaureguarde, I do declare how you spoil me." He switched to putting his hands on his hips. "What's this gonna cost me, Woody? Dummy's can be made outta dough but I ain't."

Scarface: " 'Cause yer respectable, nah I'm lyin' " Scarface pulled a grin. " But it's worth somethin' tah you. I can't use it. Dummy's body anit limber enough tah pull off half the shit that's needed in dat book anyway.. but you.. " He brushed past Joker and came to lean on the armrest of the big pink chair. He smiled at Harley and rubbed his knuckles against his shirt.

"I want muscle, Jokah. Muscle and I want my tuff back. While fucking Dummy and Jimbo were knockin' faggot boots The Street Demonz took over my entire territory and that really gets my grit if yah know what I mean. You help me hit the mattress with those rats an have em all wearin' cement shoes, I'll not only give yah the fuckin' loose leaf, I'll gladly help yah out with any city tearin' ruckus yah wanna do in the future. "

"Awww puppet head, you wanna be Puddin's partner?" Harley was resting her elbows on the back of the chair and her face in her gloved, she smiled at Scarface and then over at Joker. "Awww can we Mistah J, it's been a long time since we had ANY playmates. " She gave him big ol starry eyes and stuck out her bottom lip.

Playmates. Scarface had to resist licking his own lips again as he stared down at his knuckles waiting for Joker to bite the bait if he was going to bite it at all. I wouldn't mind being HER playmate, but the Clowns just gonna have to leave the picture.. patience, patience.

Joker: No money, but using Joker's goons. Something didn't settle right in that green head of his when he heard that. The clatterjaw's gonna double-cross me. He double-crosses everyone. Harleen's cute, but damn dumb and trusting sometimes.

For the moment, though.... "Why sweetums! Of course we can have a playmate!" He reached out and poked her short nose with the end of his gloved finger. "Don't tell me that you're getting bored with me, huh Harls?"

He stretched out his hands, spreading his arms. "C'mere, baby. It'll be a present to you too. We can have all sorts of fun together."

Harley, I trust you better know what to do if this guy screws me over. He'll be feelin' it.

"I say lets go kidnap us a big lardass cop and strap a grenade in his mouth and threaten to blow up his head if they don't send out Woody's other puppet!"

Scarface: " Puddin' Reaaaaaaaalllly?" Harley squeaked and wrapped her arms around Jokers neck. She lavished the chemically whitened skin with black lipstick. " Thank you Mr. J, Thank you so much, This is gonna be so much fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuun! " She grinned and grinned and then launched herself at Scarface and to his surprise tackled him right into the pink chair, smearing white makeup all over his cheek when her own rubbed like an oversized cat.

Ugh.. that hurt. It had only been a few days since Penguin's little powertrip, and Wesker's body was still pretty sore. Eyes rolled up into his skull for a moment and the little man let out a groan. For a brief moment lip was pulled between his teeth and a soft " n-ooo " Stifled out in Wesker's real voice.

The small man twitched and then shook his head and shoved away from Harley, letting her fall into the seat herself. " Lets play later, dolll. " He hissed a whisper to her and then stood up and rolled his shoulders facing Joker again, this time, the little man's mouth curled into a full scowl.

" No Way. I don't want tah be back in that cold lifeless hunk of wood. Dis is my body now. MINE. I don't need dummy, This way is better, sides.. Batman's got my old duds and I's don't even have a head. " He adjusted his fedora and reached into his suit for a new cigar, he'd lost the other one when Harley had jumped him.

"So it's a deal? Muscle and my turf back for the book? " He dug out a lighter to get his stogie going. "I know I's anit the most trustworthy partner there's ever been, but what's yah got tah loose.. I mean lookit at me, I'm justa little ol coot. " Another nasty grin. "We's can be Kings of dis Burg we work together. "

Take the bait you smiling jackass, I can have it all.

Joker: "I didn't mean that, you nincompoop, I meant that giant horse you drag around by it's reigns," the Joker scowled briefly. "We're gonna need him if we're gonna make it anywhere. But if you don't want him it'll certainly save us the trouble!" He waved his hand dismissively.

It'll take all of Batsy's energy to keep hold of Rhino. And he'll know it too. All of the Joker's henchmen could get away with murder if Rhino was around to keep the Dark Knight occupied.

Two very different, very disturbing men, both formulating plans of how to take the other's domain for themselves. Were Harleen Quinzel telepathic, she'd have undoubtedly felt a little encroached upon.

Scarface: Scarface threw is hands up in the air. " Yer talkin' tah someone whose spent his entire life inna Dummy, DUMMY! " But he did grin. Scarface wasn't stupid, on not by a long shot. He just was so full of himself. He blew cigar smoke and started down the steps.

" Yah, it'll be good tah see ol Rhino-head again, Goon's dumb but e's loyal. He's gonna be mighty confused though. " The little man shoved his hands into his pockets as he started off toward the shadows again.

"I gots me a little business tah take care of, but I'll be back. Leava note if yah run off on one of yer random escapades n shit and whatnot. " Glasses gave a final glint as Scarface stepped around the Merry-Go-Round once more and was gone.

Harley Quinn finally pushed herself up with an "oof" and leaned over the armrest staring back out after Scarface. She pouted a bit then looked over at the Joker. She was clueless of course, she figured three was a party.

But three was a crowd. A Dangerous crowd. " I like the new puppethead, Puddin' We're gonna have a great time. " She nodded and then winked at him.

" Nothin' gonna go wrong Mistah J, I think this is gonna be a GREAT adventure. "

If only she knew..