Donuts and Lies Theme 87
Title: Donuts and Lies
Universe: DCAU-kinda
Genre: Drama/Humour
Characters: Joker 'n' Harley, unfortunate goon
Rating: PG-13, implied unpleasantness
Word Count: 818
Summary: Joker decides he's got an employment issue to address.
***
Donuts and Lies
“Whattaya got planned for him, Puddin’?”
A cheery voice chirped in the gloom of the grimy and forgotten warehouse, to be answered by a more sinister and calculating reply.
“I don’t know, I’ve been waiting to be struck with some sort of creatively violent inspiration…”
Bloodshot eyes set in a pale, quivering face darted back and forth between the two figures that loomed over him. Being tied to a chair didn’t give him a whole lot of room to cringe away, but the man was giving it every ounce of strength in his attempt to edge just a few inches away from his likely unpleasant fate.
“I just know I want it to be particularly cruel and unusual.”
The Joker pinned the man sat before him with an almost hungry glare, halting his fidgeting movements.
“This little worm has been seen consuming donuts on no fewer than three occasions since he entered my employment. Conclusive proof - if any were needed - that he has been frequenting the company of the fine upstanding members of our city’s police force! They’ve evidently been bribing him with sugary fried treats to squeal on all my brilliant schemes.”
The pale face of the former hired goon shook rapidly from side to side in what might have been either a hearty denial or a spasm of fear.
“N-n-no boss, it’s not like that, I swear! I just gotta sweet tooth and there’s a donut shop halfway between my house and here - I like to stop by for breakfast now and then, that’s all…”
“Lies! All lies!” The Joker turned his back on the man in disgust.
“It’s the truth!” The man babbled, ever more desperate and suddenly keenly aware of the precariousness of his existence. “I even brought a mixed box in once, for the other guys, and you ate three of them yourself while you were talkin’ to Jimmy about transport for the big job at the opera house next week.”
The Joker spun on the spot, holding up an accusing finger like a confident prosecution attorney who has just seen his witness knot their own noose of confabulation.
“See how he chooses to drop in a passing reference to the opera house, completely at random?” Harley nodded along agreeably while also shaking her head in despair at the unfortunate goon. It made her somewhat dizzy. “That’s what he’s squealed about. His guilty rat-like conscience squirmed its way to the surface for one last gasp of air.”
The man spluttered a few more useless platitudes, but it was clear that the Joker’s internal judge and jury had spoken.
“There’s only one thing to do with a rat, but to send an appropriate message it has to be excruciatingly painful, gut-wrenchingly gruesome and as undignified as possible.”
“I think someone once said that the most undignified way to go is autoerotic asphyxiation,” Harley offered in an optimistically helpful tone of voice.
“Harl, do you actually know what that is?” Joker asked, her blank expression telling him all he needed to know. He lent over slightly and whispered into her ear, causing her to flush bright red behind the thick coat of stage makeup that made up her costume.
“Jeez Louise - I’m certainly not helpin’ set that up with this guy!”
“It might have been a good way to leave him in the end; as a present for a loved one to find…” Joker turned back to the terrified man. “Say, have you got a wife and kids, twitchy? Or a frail, elderly mother with a weak heart? I do like these sorts of messages to be proper, family affairs; with the beloved newly-bereaved relatives receiving gifts at appropriate intervals. Something nice - tasteful. Like a sliver of your tongue with a nice bow on it.”
The man had slumped into a puddle of despair against the ropes that bound him to the chair, looking paler than ever. “I’m not feelin’ too good boss…”
“Well that’s a sensation you should embrace m’boy; it’ll only get worse from here on in,” Joker advised him cheerily, leaning over to clap him warmly on the shoulder. “Y’know Harley, I think I’ve had some of that patented Joker-genius inspiration. His little cop talking shop and donut emporium should be closed by now, and such places are bound to have lots of fun things to play with like deep fat fryers. It’s speaking to me - some nonsense about karmic retribution, but mostly about the joy to be had with gallons of scalding oil.”
“That’s so clever Mistah J!” Harley clapped, skipping away to fetch car keys and a camera; the second item to ensure that the message would be appropriately recorded for circulation amongst new employees as well as family members.
From the following morning onwards, even once the building was cleaned up and the crime scene closed down, the GCPD switched on-mass to a different donut franchise.
Fin
***
End note: I think the deep and meaningful message behind this is... I wanted a donut. It's pretty much just the usual random nonsense!
Bonus point for anyone who knows which TV series/episode/character the autoerotic asphyxiation reference comes from.
Universe: DCAU-kinda
Genre: Drama/Humour
Characters: Joker 'n' Harley, unfortunate goon
Rating: PG-13, implied unpleasantness
Word Count: 818
Summary: Joker decides he's got an employment issue to address.
***
Donuts and Lies
“Whattaya got planned for him, Puddin’?”
A cheery voice chirped in the gloom of the grimy and forgotten warehouse, to be answered by a more sinister and calculating reply.
“I don’t know, I’ve been waiting to be struck with some sort of creatively violent inspiration…”
Bloodshot eyes set in a pale, quivering face darted back and forth between the two figures that loomed over him. Being tied to a chair didn’t give him a whole lot of room to cringe away, but the man was giving it every ounce of strength in his attempt to edge just a few inches away from his likely unpleasant fate.
“I just know I want it to be particularly cruel and unusual.”
The Joker pinned the man sat before him with an almost hungry glare, halting his fidgeting movements.
“This little worm has been seen consuming donuts on no fewer than three occasions since he entered my employment. Conclusive proof - if any were needed - that he has been frequenting the company of the fine upstanding members of our city’s police force! They’ve evidently been bribing him with sugary fried treats to squeal on all my brilliant schemes.”
The pale face of the former hired goon shook rapidly from side to side in what might have been either a hearty denial or a spasm of fear.
“N-n-no boss, it’s not like that, I swear! I just gotta sweet tooth and there’s a donut shop halfway between my house and here - I like to stop by for breakfast now and then, that’s all…”
“Lies! All lies!” The Joker turned his back on the man in disgust.
“It’s the truth!” The man babbled, ever more desperate and suddenly keenly aware of the precariousness of his existence. “I even brought a mixed box in once, for the other guys, and you ate three of them yourself while you were talkin’ to Jimmy about transport for the big job at the opera house next week.”
The Joker spun on the spot, holding up an accusing finger like a confident prosecution attorney who has just seen his witness knot their own noose of confabulation.
“See how he chooses to drop in a passing reference to the opera house, completely at random?” Harley nodded along agreeably while also shaking her head in despair at the unfortunate goon. It made her somewhat dizzy. “That’s what he’s squealed about. His guilty rat-like conscience squirmed its way to the surface for one last gasp of air.”
The man spluttered a few more useless platitudes, but it was clear that the Joker’s internal judge and jury had spoken.
“There’s only one thing to do with a rat, but to send an appropriate message it has to be excruciatingly painful, gut-wrenchingly gruesome and as undignified as possible.”
“I think someone once said that the most undignified way to go is autoerotic asphyxiation,” Harley offered in an optimistically helpful tone of voice.
“Harl, do you actually know what that is?” Joker asked, her blank expression telling him all he needed to know. He lent over slightly and whispered into her ear, causing her to flush bright red behind the thick coat of stage makeup that made up her costume.
“Jeez Louise - I’m certainly not helpin’ set that up with this guy!”
“It might have been a good way to leave him in the end; as a present for a loved one to find…” Joker turned back to the terrified man. “Say, have you got a wife and kids, twitchy? Or a frail, elderly mother with a weak heart? I do like these sorts of messages to be proper, family affairs; with the beloved newly-bereaved relatives receiving gifts at appropriate intervals. Something nice - tasteful. Like a sliver of your tongue with a nice bow on it.”
The man had slumped into a puddle of despair against the ropes that bound him to the chair, looking paler than ever. “I’m not feelin’ too good boss…”
“Well that’s a sensation you should embrace m’boy; it’ll only get worse from here on in,” Joker advised him cheerily, leaning over to clap him warmly on the shoulder. “Y’know Harley, I think I’ve had some of that patented Joker-genius inspiration. His little cop talking shop and donut emporium should be closed by now, and such places are bound to have lots of fun things to play with like deep fat fryers. It’s speaking to me - some nonsense about karmic retribution, but mostly about the joy to be had with gallons of scalding oil.”
“That’s so clever Mistah J!” Harley clapped, skipping away to fetch car keys and a camera; the second item to ensure that the message would be appropriately recorded for circulation amongst new employees as well as family members.
From the following morning onwards, even once the building was cleaned up and the crime scene closed down, the GCPD switched on-mass to a different donut franchise.
Fin
***
End note: I think the deep and meaningful message behind this is... I wanted a donut. It's pretty much just the usual random nonsense!
Bonus point for anyone who knows which TV series/episode/character the autoerotic asphyxiation reference comes from.