Upping the Ante

Summary:
September 09 2014: Harley is unhappy with the size of her bounty.

Otisburg Police Station

A small police station serving a rough corner of Otisburg.


Characters

NPCs

  • Joker Gang Members
  • GCPD
  • Reporters

Mood Music:
[* None]


The Joker is… in Jail. It's actually the talk of the station here in Otisburg. He was gift wrapped and tied up and left on the door step quite literally. And he looks kind of beat up. But that's not the best part. The best part was the note attached to him. Delivered to the GCPD courtesy of Harley Quinn. Now he's in a holding cell cooling his heels and waiting for a SWAT convoy (a big one) to come pick him up and transfer him to GCPD HQ pending a discussion with the SRD.

*

A brunette with glasses in a police uniform and her curly hair in a bun walks down to holding. She looks over at the infamous Clown Prince of Crime and smirks. Harley put those bruises there, the cuts on his lips. "How does it feel to have had your ass handed to you by a woman," the officer asks the Joker, a slight hint of Jersey to her voice. She keeps her hands on her belt, just in case.

*

The Joker has been sitting on that bench, head down for well over an hour. His long green hair covers his eyes, but a small smirk is still visible. He doesn't answer. He doesn't even look up. But he clearly heard. SWAT's about five minutes out, or so the radio says. Folks are getting a little antsy. It's not like it's not great to have the Joker in lockdown but… the guy's nuts. And dangerous.

*

The young officer with the glasses looks up to the camera, making sure she is staying on record. They can't hear what she's saying, but at least they have her monitored. She turns back to Joker, a tug playing at the corner of her lips.

"It's a shame she couldn't get the reward money for ya. She's wanted herself, you see. Those 50 stacks would have been reeeeeal nice. I heard she's been robbing banks. Without you. Again. Maybe she's raising money to try and bust you out. Or maybe she's just relishing not being tied down to your jokes." Unseen by the camera, the officer winks to the Joker. She looks down at her watch. "SWAT should be here any minute now."

*

"Oh good. My chariot." The Joker looks up finally, a manic gleam in his eye. "Well, I suppose I should get ready. It's not every day I get hauled across town in an armored van." No, not every day. Just Tuesdays. Though those vans tend to be full of money. Silly armored transport folks and their predictable driving patterns.

*

It would seem that the SWAT team is early. Four armored men show up with all the right paperwork, signing what needs to be signed and come into holding. The young officer backs away, glaring at one of them. "Could you cut it any closer?" she hisses, her Jersey accent trickling up to the surface a little more.

The man that the officer, Helen Lara Quinze, speaks to gives her a hangdog look, apologetic. She watches as they carefully make sure he is cuffed and shackled, before walking him away. Her blue eyes watch Joker's back, a smile lingering on her lips as she takes the time to enjoy the view of his retreating form. "Damn, but that man ain't the handsomest thing on two legs."

*

"You gotta be nuts, Officer Quinze." Says a processing clerk right beside her. "I'll take that from you, if you'd like. The press is outside waiting to get pictures of this and I think the Lieutenant is probably going to give a statement, if you wanna go see. I wouldn't blame you." The clerk reaches out for the paperwork. Even in the police force, there are bureaucratic gods to be appeased.

*

Oh yeah! Disguise! Helen clears her throat and blushes. "I meant that guy on SWAT. The one holding him on the left." Bad. Bad Harley! Gonna let the joke slip!

Officer Quinze hands over the paperwork, signing off on it as well, and then goes to follow. Yes, this will certainly be a show to remember. One of the SWAT team jostles the Joker a bit, a small key being slipped into the Master of the Maniacal's hands.

*

Out on the steps the Joker's progress toward the waiting armored van is halted by a mob of press. There's a lot of officers out too, mostly occupied with keeping the reporters and photographers at a safe distance. The SWAT van is accompanied by half a dozen other armored and armed vehicles and the full compliment of tactically geared police officers is standing by in case anything should happen. It really does pay to be prepared when it comes to the Joker. Sometimes it doesn't help, true, but it pays.

The Joker palms the key, his smirk never changing. One of the officers, the only one who seems 'new' to the whole job, gets a sidelong look and a nod.

*

Inside, the processing clerk is just going over the paperwork when she notices something. She's always loved puzzles. Anagrams were always her favorites and she loved turning peoples names into other words, to see what amusing things she could come up with. Helen Lara Quinze. Equalize. Queen. Enquire. Ooooh! Harlequin! Awesome. Wait. Harlequin? The clerk's eyes go wide and she sets off the alarm.

Harley, disguised as Officer Helen Quinze, watches as the cameras flash and the reporters yell out questions, each wanting to be the one that could get the Joker to give them something good for their paper or tv news show. She gives a nod to two more cops who subtley jam the door that Joker just came out of closed and then speak softly into their radios. All around the precinct, doors are being jammed.

*

It's hardly visible, not that it would matter since the two officers behind the Joker are plants, but the handcuffs come undone and disappear as the Joker swings them up out of sight. He keeps his hands behind him though, twisting to look bac kat 'Officer Quinze' and give her that trademark smirk. How does it feel to get beat up by a woman?

Maybe someone should ask that Lieutenant over there…

*

She may not be wearing her trademark mask, man, how she hates not wearing her face, but once given the go ahead by the Joker, Harley pulls off the wig and simultaneously gives the Lieutenant beside her a swift kick to the jaw. At least the shoes that come with an officers uniform are good for kicking people. Harley pulls out her baton, grabbing a second one from a nearby officer at the same time and becomes a flurry of movement. Since she couldn't be in costume, she instead dyed her blonde hair, the ponytails dipped in red on one side and black on the other.

*

The Joker turns and shoves one of the real police officers into the crowd of reporters, relieving him of his gun as he does so. The other officer beside him gets shot in the gut. The SWAT team outside the perimeter is suddenly riven with fighting as plants there grab at guns and produce batons in an effort to bring their fellows down.

*

Harley is smiling ear to ear. Kicking butt and making a show of it for the cameras while she saves her man is all that is good in this world. For anyone that is paying attention, it would seem that Harley's moral compass is a little less skewed then normal as she doesn't hit anyone without a weapon. The SWAT members with Joker go to open the van and Snicker and Doodle hop out, meaner then ever after their recovered injuries from that evil Melinda May person. Snicker walks with a distinctive limp now, one of his back legs just not working quite right, but his jaws are still quite deadly.

Harley makes a pause when one reporter screams out the simple question of "Why?"

"Ain't a girl allowed ta change her mind?" she asks, flipping her hands out by her shoulders as she shrugs.

*

"Woman's perrogative." Joker agrees as he pistol whips a reporter who isn't quite fast enough getting out of the way. One of the SWAT memebers manages to get his rifle up to his shoulder only to get shot by the clown prince. "Harley, dear, it looks like you're having fun. Take your time, I'm going to warm up our limo here." The Limo beign one of the armored vans. Hey, it's not every day the Joker gets to steal one.

*

There is panic among the crowd, panic among the force. People are unable to get in or out of the building, people are shooting, but they all seem to be officers, so no one is sure just who they should be shooting at. Is that officer a friendly or a Joker goon. And then there is Harley, using the twin batons as they were intended, beating people up.

*

Harley bounces over to the stage and leans on the podium. "I would like to take this moment to thank the little people that made this all possible. Oh… wait. Do we still call them that? What do we call them now? Ummm, well, you know who you are. Thank you!" She then takes a swing at the next available target. It isn't till she gets shot in the gut and stumbles back that her smile leaves her face. "And I *was* feeling nice today! I wasn't *killing* anyone! But you had to go and change that!" she screams angrily as her mood changes drastically. "Snicker! Doodles!" she yells out, pointing at the officer that shot her. "Dinner!"

*

There's awful, horrible screaming as the hyenas pounce upon their indicated meal. The reporters back up, scramblign toget away. A couple officers try to shoot them but Joker's a bit too fast, shooting them both from near his new ride with a nonchalance that looks almost negligent. Most of the other officers are at this point in a bad way. Joker's gang has trapped their reinforcements in the building… a building which is now belching purple smoke laced with nitrous oxide.

*

Thanks to the injections that made her as strong as she is, Harley can take a bullet. That doesn't mean it is either comfortable or something that she wants to happen on a frequent basis. She drops the batons, holding her gut wound with one hand and taking out her gun with the other, shooting anyone that is in her path to the armored vehicle. Once Harley switches mindset from playful to killer, all bets are off as to who gets to live or die. Well, with the exception of her Puddin' and her babies.

Harley gets in the vehicle, opening the back doors, and then whistles sharply. The hyenas laugh as they run off and jump into the van. Slamming the doors shut behind them, Harley looks at the mayhem that was caused and smiles. This was a good joke.

*

"I think that should up your bounty nicely? And send a message to Batsy's folks that if they really want to end this… they should just come out and play. Ready, Harley?" The Joker grins manically as he guns the engine on the two ton van.

*

Harley looks down at her bullet wound, pulling up the officer uniform. She grumbles. "Let's go, Mistah J. I think we made our point." She leans back in the seat and sighs. "We still have that vet on retainer?" she asks, meaning have they killed him yet or is he still one of their hostages. Mind you, there are all sorts of people that think working for the Joker is lucrative, maybe someone with medical qualifications would be a good hire.

*

"We do, though I'm thinking someone more… motivated, might be a good acquisition." The Joker guns the engine, ramming a squad car out of the way as he powers onto the main road with his lackeys in tow. "Shall we get takeout on the way back?" His grin is malicious. Take out is always fun.

*

Harley smiles at the Joker as he drives like a maniac all over the road, hitting cars, pedestrians, street signs. It's like a game of GTA played by a twelve year old who is having more fun with the mayhem then the actual game. And it's adorable. She keeps her hand on the bullet wound and nods her head. "Take out is always good," she agrees and then looks out the window. The police choppers in the air follow them, sirens blaring all over the city. "Seems we still have some guests to the party, Puddin'."

*

"Mmmmmm. There's some party favors in the back." Really explosive ones, the kinds the Joker tends to favor. "Want to go take care of them?" A downed chopper is probably worth a good bump on the ol' bounty anyway.

*

Harley heads into the back of the van and finds a rocket launcher. Complete with a smiley faced rocket. The hyenas lick at her hands, happy to have her in the back with them, but soon, she is opening the back doors to the van and taking aim. "Say cheese!"

*

The panic is easy to pickup in the chopper's flight pattern as it pulls up and away sharply the moment Harley points that rather large 'party favor' in their direction. Tracking the Joker is all well and good but this is getting dangerous.

*

Pouting as the copter veers off, Harley finds another target. She never did like that burger place with it's stupid clown anyway. Horning in on her Puddin's infamy! The nerve! They don't even give Mr. J a cut of the profits for using what is clearly a blatant ripoff of him in their marketing.

*

The offending clown does at least blow up nicely. There's a shattering of fiberglass and a great woosh as fryer oil ignites in the back. On the plus side, that seems to have gotten a lot of attention and now the dark caravan is making a turn onto a side street, toward the East End. Maybe they'll get Chinese before returning 'home.'


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