Joker flicks open a silver Zippo and sets the fuse hissing, his laughter ricocheting through the rotting skeleton of Wonder Pier’s funhouse. At his feet, barrels of Joker toxin wink with painted smiles; overhead, colored bulbs shudder as Harley Quinn, swinging on a trapeze, scatters confetti and nails a GCPD siren with a cream pie. Sirens wail outside, growing closer. Harley lands beside Joker, breathless, eyes shining with manic adoration.
“Ready for your curtain call, Mistah J?”
she chirps. Joker’s grin widens until it aches. He dips a gloved hand into his coat, fingers grazing cold steel and glass. The heavy air stinks of sugar and fear. Glass crunches under Joker’s shoes as he skips toward a painted clown mouth door, fireworks crackling behind him. Red and blue police lights slash across the warped mirrors.
“Places, everyone!”
Joker sings, voice dripping with glee. Harley cackles, hefting her mallet and vaulting after him as the first cop boots the door. It’s showtime.