"Clubs" Entry: In the Thick of It
Title: In the Thick of It
Universe: DCAU
Genre: Crack
Rating: G, PG, PG-13, R only.
Characters/Pairings: Joker, Harley, Robin, Batman
Word Count: 500
Warnings: none
Summary: Joker and Harley stick up a certain club, seemingly with a theme...
~*~
“The irony, Harley! Whoooo!!” Joker took another swing, the head of his wedge coming into contact with another housewife with a solid thwack.
“I know, Puddin’! This is way more fun than the bowling alley!” Harley didn’t actually hit one of the little old ladies, but she did brandish a juggling club at the president of the bridge league to convince her to give up her diamonds and rubies.
Joker swung a putter up between a businessman’s legs, then rummaged through his jacket pocket while he writhed in pain. “I still don’t understand what you’d planned to do there, Harl. People with money play bridge and golf, not go bowling.”
“I know… But I like the shoes.”
“You would, my fashion-challenged darling.”
“I may not be as stylish as you, but I still have some flair.” Harley glanced over the table, cards thrown down haphazardly once she and Joker had crashed the estate, then down at her costume. “But maybe I should have gone with the pretty clubs instead of the diamonds. But I really like them, too.”
“Diamonds are universal. As these tie clips and cufflinks illustrate, along with those earrings and pendants you’re collecting. You don’t want to overdo it and look like a member of the Royal Flush Gang.”
“I suppose.”
Joker snatched a tall sandwich by a glass of soda water and took a bite. Mouth full, he said, “Quite a spread at this place. We should come back next week. Get a whole new crop to take.”
“Not a chance, Joker!”
“Not you… The pixie boots really clash with the dress code, Bird Boy. Unless they’re accented with emeralds.”
“Then you’re not gonna like his outfit either.” Robin used his thumb to point to the ceiling, as Batman swooped down through the skylight. “He doesn’t even have color.”
Dropping into a crouch while flinging Batarangs at both Joker and Harley, Batman grunted, “Don’t engage them, Robin.”
Dodging the Batarang, Joker snarled, “Listen to him, Baby Bird. Or you’ll get a club to the face too.”
“Don’t you threaten him.” The wielded wedge had been held slightly too close to Batman, who grabbed it by the head and rammed it back into the Joker’s chest. He followed that up with a kick to his other side, sending Joker sprawling past a wall of women holding mimosas.
“Puddin’!” Before Harley could run to Joker, or away from him, or do much of anything, Robin swept her legs out from under her and deftly zip-stripped her wrists.
“Good job, Robin.” Batman put most of his weight on his knee, which was pressed against the bottom of Joker’s spine. “You. Shut up. Your straitjacket back in Arkham won’t have color or accents either. You’ll be surrounded by others dressed the same.”
Batman carried out Joker and Harley, and Robin helped the country club members sort through the items that had been stolen.
And the president of the bridge league wondered, “Who wants to go someplace different next week?”
~*~
A/N: Just wanted to fit in as many "club" references as I could.
Universe: DCAU
Genre: Crack
Rating: G, PG, PG-13, R only.
Characters/Pairings: Joker, Harley, Robin, Batman
Word Count: 500
Warnings: none
Summary: Joker and Harley stick up a certain club, seemingly with a theme...
~*~
“The irony, Harley! Whoooo!!” Joker took another swing, the head of his wedge coming into contact with another housewife with a solid thwack.
“I know, Puddin’! This is way more fun than the bowling alley!” Harley didn’t actually hit one of the little old ladies, but she did brandish a juggling club at the president of the bridge league to convince her to give up her diamonds and rubies.
Joker swung a putter up between a businessman’s legs, then rummaged through his jacket pocket while he writhed in pain. “I still don’t understand what you’d planned to do there, Harl. People with money play bridge and golf, not go bowling.”
“I know… But I like the shoes.”
“You would, my fashion-challenged darling.”
“I may not be as stylish as you, but I still have some flair.” Harley glanced over the table, cards thrown down haphazardly once she and Joker had crashed the estate, then down at her costume. “But maybe I should have gone with the pretty clubs instead of the diamonds. But I really like them, too.”
“Diamonds are universal. As these tie clips and cufflinks illustrate, along with those earrings and pendants you’re collecting. You don’t want to overdo it and look like a member of the Royal Flush Gang.”
“I suppose.”
Joker snatched a tall sandwich by a glass of soda water and took a bite. Mouth full, he said, “Quite a spread at this place. We should come back next week. Get a whole new crop to take.”
“Not a chance, Joker!”
“Not you… The pixie boots really clash with the dress code, Bird Boy. Unless they’re accented with emeralds.”
“Then you’re not gonna like his outfit either.” Robin used his thumb to point to the ceiling, as Batman swooped down through the skylight. “He doesn’t even have color.”
Dropping into a crouch while flinging Batarangs at both Joker and Harley, Batman grunted, “Don’t engage them, Robin.”
Dodging the Batarang, Joker snarled, “Listen to him, Baby Bird. Or you’ll get a club to the face too.”
“Don’t you threaten him.” The wielded wedge had been held slightly too close to Batman, who grabbed it by the head and rammed it back into the Joker’s chest. He followed that up with a kick to his other side, sending Joker sprawling past a wall of women holding mimosas.
“Puddin’!” Before Harley could run to Joker, or away from him, or do much of anything, Robin swept her legs out from under her and deftly zip-stripped her wrists.
“Good job, Robin.” Batman put most of his weight on his knee, which was pressed against the bottom of Joker’s spine. “You. Shut up. Your straitjacket back in Arkham won’t have color or accents either. You’ll be surrounded by others dressed the same.”
Batman carried out Joker and Harley, and Robin helped the country club members sort through the items that had been stolen.
And the president of the bridge league wondered, “Who wants to go someplace different next week?”
~*~
A/N: Just wanted to fit in as many "club" references as I could.