LJ Presents: Love between lunatics
Christmas was an extremely busy (and fun) period in our household, meaning I've lacked time to chronicle this year's "holiday special" of LJ's creation. Given her love of continuity, it should come as no surprise that the 2014 installment calls back to a prior adventure, involves some of her favourites and is replete with comedy. And let's be honest: who wants a serious Christmas story?
Yes, okay, Doctor Who fans. Fair call. But I'm sure you get the point I'm trying to make. Regardless: on with the show!
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LJ presents:
LOVE BETWEEN LUNATICS: A CHRISTMAS STORY
Written and directed by LJ
Novelisation by SF
The sun had yet to rise when the Joker was rudely roused from his bunk. A pair of guards frog-marched the clown price of crime through the corridors of Arkham Asylum and outside into the crisp, pre-dawn air. Shocked awake by the cold, he realised he wasn’t alone. Bane, Mr Freeze, Two-Face, Clock King, Scarecrow, Poison Ivy, Riddler and (unfortunately) Harley Quinn had been brought outside as well. Harley waved cheerily to the Joker, who sighed glumly and did his best to ignore her. Harley, pouting, was comforted by Ivy.
A police car pulled up in front of the bleary-eyed villains. Commissioner Gordon got out, accompanied by an unfamiliar, muscular man. He was introduced as Gunther von Exerczisink, the “world-famous fitness consultant”. The Mayor, Gordon explained, had decided proper exercise and nutrition would help Super Hero City’s worst miscreants reform their ways. This was to be the first in a series of daily “health hustles” in which the villains would participate. The bad guys groaned as von Exerczisink commanded they do star-jumps… then gasped in surprise when he hurled sleeping gas bombs at Gordon and the guards!
The authorities drifted off to sleep, undisturbed by the whine of rocket engines overhead. Clad in his power armour and boasting his trademark smirk, Lex Luthor landed amidst the Gotham villains. At his bidding, von Exerczisink pulled a rubber mask from his face and revealed his true identity: Sportsmaster! Lex had a very simple offer for the villains. Their plot to take over Super Hero City had failed due to a lack of organisation. Doom’s conquering tilt had been stymied by his own ego. Lex wanted to stage a coup and take command of Villainville, with Batman’s rogues as his muscle. It would be a slow, methodical and careful scheme taking place over several months, ensuring many of the Marvel villains would side with them - thereby avoiding unnecessary infighting and violence.
The Gotham villains agreed… all save Joker, who yawned theatrically. Having been cooped up inside Arkham for so long, the harlequin of hate had no time for guile and subterfuge. He wanted action, he wanted chaos, and he wanted them now! And so, as Lex handed the villains their weaponry (and freed Clayface from his special cell in the bowels of Arkham), Joker used the remote control in his mallet to summon the Joker Mobile and take off. He laughed as he drove away, decrying his peers as “suckers” while vowing there’d be no city left for them to take over!
His arrogance and callousness infuriated Harley Quinn. “That jerk,” she fumed. “It’s Christmas Eve, but does he care? No! He ignores me, he runs off on me and, after all of these years, he’s still never bought me a present! Well, I’ve had enough of his nonsense - I’m gonna go murder the creep!” She hefted her cork-gun and glared at Lex. “You got a problem with that, baldie?”
Lex merely smiled and ushered her on her way. The other villains were stunned, but the former president was no fool. “Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned,” he told them. “Besides: if the Joker won’t play my games, that makes him part of the problem instead of the solution. Quinn taking him out just makes things easier for me.” And, he thought, if those lunatics kill each other, my life will be even simpler.
The sleeping gas wore off a short time later and Gordon, realising the enormity of the situation, immediately lit the Bat-Signal mounted atop Arkham. Within minutes, the caped crusader was on the scene. Employing his detective skills, Batman found Kryptonite radiation, the splintered remains of golf balls, footprints and a one-of-a-kind set of tyre tracks. Then he asked to check Gordon’s iPad. “The e-mail you received from the Mayor, about Gunther von Exerczisink, is a forgery,” he explained. “The real von Exerczisink died years ago. This was all set up by Lex Luthor to free the villains. The footprints lead back toward Villainville. However, those tyre tracks belong to the Joker Mobile and are headed in the opposite direction - which means the city’s in terrible danger.”
He raced back to the Batmobile and took off in pursuit of his worst enemy. It was only then that Gordon noticed another set of footprints… unmistakably those of someone wearing clown shoes… and realised Harley Quinn had also followed the Jokermobile. He lifted his radio to call Batman.
Miles away, in Hero Headquarters, the merc with a mouth called Deadpool was in a cleaning frenzy. He’d been caught trying to steal Iron Man’s pants (again) and been sentenced to dust the entire mansion as punishment. Deadpool being Deadpool, he’d taken to his task ninja-style, leaping out from behind furniture to “sneak attack the dust bunnies”. So it was that he became tangled in the pendulum of the grandfather clock, accidentally pulled it down and discovered the secret entrance to the Batcave!
“Sweet,” Deadpool beamed, “I found the wine cellar! Time to get good and drunk!”
Of course, Deadpool soon realised he’d actually uncovered a super-secret super-hero lair (tripping, falling down the stairs and landing face-first on the Batwing gave him his first clue). When the Batcave’s hotline started ringing, the merc couldn’t resist answering. Adopting his best Batman voice (which was, honestly, not that bad an impersonation), Deadpool chatted to Gordon about the break-out and, more importantly, the involvement of Harley Quinn. The mere mention of the super-villain’s name sent Deadpool’s heartbeat into hyper-speed. He thought dreamily of her long, athletic legs… her tight costume… her oh-so-stylish red-and-black colour scheme… her tight costume… her crazed, homicidal expression… her tight costume… and knew what he had to do. “I have to find her before Batman and the cops do,” Deadpool said to himself, “and I have to help her kill the Joker! Then her heart will be free and she can fall in love with me!”
Intoxicated not by wine but puppy love, Deadpool prised open the Batwing’s cockpit and hot-wired its controls. With a whooping holler that was equal parts euphoria and sheer terror, the craziest hero in town piloted the Batwing out of its cave and up into the sky, beginning his haphazardly, barely-in-control search for the psychotic of his dreams.
Meanwhile, in Super Hero City, the stores had opened for the final shopping day before Christmas. People were everywhere and the place was a madhouse - precisely the sort of fun the Joker had been looking for. The grinning ghoul had already secretly stashed canisters of Joker gas throughout the shopping district. He watched, giggling with anticipation, as the frenzied consumers drew closer and closer to his booby-traps. Overcome with delight, he raised his remote control and… wailed as high-temperature laser blasts evaporated his festive bon-bons!
“Oh come on, Batsy, that’s just not cricket,” he fumed, stamping his foot. “You’re supposed to let me get a few licks in before you come rain on my parade! What, I’ve been gone so long that you’ve forgotten how the game is played?”
But it wasn’t Batman - it was Harley, and she was ticked off. Screaming near-incoherently about 47-page wish lists and Christmas presents, the harried hench-wench went on a murderous tear. Joker shrieked and, for the first time in his life, ran for his life as his erstwhile darling tried to take his head off! She even leaped aboard the Joker Mobile and fired up its slamming mallet arm, looking to squash her former beloved into paste! Terrified, well and truly off his game, Joker tripped and fell outside the Hero Times building. With a cold gleam in her eyes, Harley lined up the mallet for one final strike…
… that was blocked by the Batmobile! As his mighty car’s brakes squealed in protest, Batman reached out from the cockpit and fired a rope-line at the Joker. It snagged the clown’s ankle; Batman pulled him inside the Batmobile and stomped on the accelerator. A burst of flame from the car’s jet-like exhaust propelled it forward… and the Joker Mobile backward… as Batman unexpectedly pulled his arch nemesis out of harm’s way.
Cursing loudly, Harley slammed on the brakes. She stepped out of the Joker Mobile and sighed heavily. “I guess it could be worse,” she shrugged. “Maybe I can just keep this here jalopy as my belated Christmas present by default…”
A bat-shaped shadow loomed over her. Looking up, Harley saw the out-of-control Batwing plummeting toward the ground. She dove out of the way a split-second before the falling aircraft turned the Joker Mobile into a mess of smouldering, twisted metal. Robbed of her vengeance, stripped of her “gift”, frustrated in her efforts at self-empowerment, Harley did the only thing a disrespectable lunatic could do: she sank to her knees and cried like a baby.
Deadpool stepped out from the Batwing’s remains, wincing as his numerous life-threatening injuries were attended to by his healing factor (just because he’d mend didn’t mean it didn’t hurt). The first thing he saw was Harley Quinn, a vision of loveliness, weeping as she knelt among the shattered remnants of her former life. “The perfect moment to make my move,” he beamed.
What happened next could only be described as “insane synchronicity”. Lovesick, crazy hero met lovelorn, crazy villain… chemistry bubbled… attraction sizzled… electricity sparked. The clincher, though, was the present Deadpool had brought with him. The merc had stopped at his secret weaponry stash on the way and gathered, for Harley, a “Bouquet of Death” - namely a hideously-sharp assortment of swords, knives, daggers and axes wrapped in cellophane and topped with a black-and-red bow! The flesh-peeling arrangement won Harley’s heart in an instant and she all but melted for Deadpool. Seizing the opportunity, Deadpool took a grenade from his bandolier, pulled the ring and chucked the explosive over his shoulder (causing a thankfully-unoccupied delivery truck to explode). Dropping to one knee, he held the grenade’s ring-pull up to Harley and, voice quavering with emotion, asked her to “go steady”.
Batman and the Joker knew nothing of this sick-yet-sweet meeting of minds. The mortal enemies were several kilometres outside the city. Batman had, of course, cuffed the Joker securely. “Oh, pretty jewellery,” the clown quipped. “Does this mean we’re going steady, Batsy?”
“Don’t make me regret saving your life, Joker,” Batman growled.
“Normally I’d retort,” the criminal replied glumly, “except you really did pull my buns out of the toaster oven. Much as it pains me to admit it, Harley truly meant it this time. She had motive, opportunity - malice aforethought! - and the clear intent to do me grievous bodily harm resulting in death.” He scowled. “I’d be proud of her if she wasn’t such a damn pain in my rear end!”
Batman intended to take the Joker back to Arkham. The psychopath protested, claiming the facility had no way of protecting him (“I mean, have you seen how often people break out of that joint?”). They started arguing and quickly wound up right in each other’s face. The Dark Knight had just pulled back his right fist, ready to resolve the issue once and for all when, to his shock, one of the Batwing’s disc-shaped projectiles whizzed in between them!
Harley and Deadpool had caught up at last, having cannibalised pieces of the Batwing to get the Joker Mobile running again (mostly, it was being held together by duct tape, chewing gum and positive thinking). Deadpool sprang from the machine and slammed into the Joker, determined to exact vengeance on behalf of his paramour. So lost was he in a romantic/homicidal daze, he didn’t notice Harley zero in on Batman. “If it weren’t for you, Mistah J would have focused on me,” she howled. “I’m gonna cut those pointy ears off at the knees!”
No slouch in the combat stakes, Joker spun around so Deadpool’s sword-strike severed his handcuffs. Freed once more, the clown prince of crime snatched up his mallet, activated his acid-squirting boutonnière, clicked the heels of his pogo-boots together and went on the offensive. Quickly he discovered it’s incredibly hard to disfigure and dismember a foe with a healing factor; every bit of Deadpool he melted away simply re-grew and the merc kept coming. For the second time that day Joker found himself in a panic and in fear for his life. And, for the second time that day, salvation came on leathery wings - Batman pushed into the fracas and fought Deadpool back.
“Take a moment, Wilson, and think,” he urged, parrying katana blades with Batarangs. “You’ve come so far since arriving in Super Hero City. You’ve reached the point where the Avengers almost trust you! Are you really willing to throw it all away for a woman who’ll always be in love with another man, no matter what you do?”
Inside the mind of Wade Wilson, a cartoonish Deadpool labelled “thought” (wearing the blue, yellow and grey of Batman) went to war with a second cartoonish Deadpool labelled “lust” (wearing the normal ‘Pool uniform topped with a jester’s hat). T’was a hard-fought struggle, deep in the admittedly shallow recesses of the mercenary’s… well, let’s call it a “mind” and be charitable… but in the end, thought triumphed over lust and Deadpool returned to his senses.
Out in the real world, he shook off his passions and combined forces with Batman. While the Dark Knight re-captured the Joker (who was hurling bombs at Harley), Deadpool tried to talk his beloved down. “I know you want to kill him, Harl, and to be honest I do too,” he said soothingly. “But if you kill him, then your jail term’s only going to be even longer than it already is! They might lock you up in solitary and say you can’t have any visitors! And how would we see each other then?”
Harley stopped dead in her tracks. “You mean you’d come see me in the nut house? For reals?”
“Scout’s honour,” Deadpool saluted.
And with that, the chaos ended (aside from the Joker’s gagging noises, of course). Harley surrendered peacefully and the Joker grumpily re-took his place in Arkham (“At least there’ll be no more health hustles!”). Harley wasn’t allowed to keep the Bouquet of Death, of course, but Deadpool promised he’d bring a photo of the arrangement the very next day. He blew his crush a kiss and strolled into Arkham’s courtyard, where Batman was waiting.
“How much of a chance do you think we have?” Deadpool asked.
“Less than zero,” Batman snapped. Seeing Deadpool slump his shoulders in defeat, he added: “but it’s nice to see someone try treating Harley well. I suppose you never know.”
“I guess it is pretty heroic of me,” Deadpool brightened. “Maybe I’m getting the hang of this after all.”
“Maybe,” Batman agreed. His communicator signalled - it was a call from Robin, which he took immediately. “Batman here. Yes, Robin, I’m at Arkham Asylum. The Joker has been… what? Sorry, say again, I don’t think I heard you correctly. What do you mean, the Batwing has gone missing?”
Quietly as he could, Deadpool crept away…
-----THE END-----
Greet the Fire as Your Friend,
SF
Yes, okay, Doctor Who fans. Fair call. But I'm sure you get the point I'm trying to make. Regardless: on with the show!
----------
LJ presents:
LOVE BETWEEN LUNATICS: A CHRISTMAS STORY
Written and directed by LJ
Novelisation by SF
The sun had yet to rise when the Joker was rudely roused from his bunk. A pair of guards frog-marched the clown price of crime through the corridors of Arkham Asylum and outside into the crisp, pre-dawn air. Shocked awake by the cold, he realised he wasn’t alone. Bane, Mr Freeze, Two-Face, Clock King, Scarecrow, Poison Ivy, Riddler and (unfortunately) Harley Quinn had been brought outside as well. Harley waved cheerily to the Joker, who sighed glumly and did his best to ignore her. Harley, pouting, was comforted by Ivy.
A police car pulled up in front of the bleary-eyed villains. Commissioner Gordon got out, accompanied by an unfamiliar, muscular man. He was introduced as Gunther von Exerczisink, the “world-famous fitness consultant”. The Mayor, Gordon explained, had decided proper exercise and nutrition would help Super Hero City’s worst miscreants reform their ways. This was to be the first in a series of daily “health hustles” in which the villains would participate. The bad guys groaned as von Exerczisink commanded they do star-jumps… then gasped in surprise when he hurled sleeping gas bombs at Gordon and the guards!
The authorities drifted off to sleep, undisturbed by the whine of rocket engines overhead. Clad in his power armour and boasting his trademark smirk, Lex Luthor landed amidst the Gotham villains. At his bidding, von Exerczisink pulled a rubber mask from his face and revealed his true identity: Sportsmaster! Lex had a very simple offer for the villains. Their plot to take over Super Hero City had failed due to a lack of organisation. Doom’s conquering tilt had been stymied by his own ego. Lex wanted to stage a coup and take command of Villainville, with Batman’s rogues as his muscle. It would be a slow, methodical and careful scheme taking place over several months, ensuring many of the Marvel villains would side with them - thereby avoiding unnecessary infighting and violence.
The Gotham villains agreed… all save Joker, who yawned theatrically. Having been cooped up inside Arkham for so long, the harlequin of hate had no time for guile and subterfuge. He wanted action, he wanted chaos, and he wanted them now! And so, as Lex handed the villains their weaponry (and freed Clayface from his special cell in the bowels of Arkham), Joker used the remote control in his mallet to summon the Joker Mobile and take off. He laughed as he drove away, decrying his peers as “suckers” while vowing there’d be no city left for them to take over!
His arrogance and callousness infuriated Harley Quinn. “That jerk,” she fumed. “It’s Christmas Eve, but does he care? No! He ignores me, he runs off on me and, after all of these years, he’s still never bought me a present! Well, I’ve had enough of his nonsense - I’m gonna go murder the creep!” She hefted her cork-gun and glared at Lex. “You got a problem with that, baldie?”
Lex merely smiled and ushered her on her way. The other villains were stunned, but the former president was no fool. “Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned,” he told them. “Besides: if the Joker won’t play my games, that makes him part of the problem instead of the solution. Quinn taking him out just makes things easier for me.” And, he thought, if those lunatics kill each other, my life will be even simpler.
The sleeping gas wore off a short time later and Gordon, realising the enormity of the situation, immediately lit the Bat-Signal mounted atop Arkham. Within minutes, the caped crusader was on the scene. Employing his detective skills, Batman found Kryptonite radiation, the splintered remains of golf balls, footprints and a one-of-a-kind set of tyre tracks. Then he asked to check Gordon’s iPad. “The e-mail you received from the Mayor, about Gunther von Exerczisink, is a forgery,” he explained. “The real von Exerczisink died years ago. This was all set up by Lex Luthor to free the villains. The footprints lead back toward Villainville. However, those tyre tracks belong to the Joker Mobile and are headed in the opposite direction - which means the city’s in terrible danger.”
He raced back to the Batmobile and took off in pursuit of his worst enemy. It was only then that Gordon noticed another set of footprints… unmistakably those of someone wearing clown shoes… and realised Harley Quinn had also followed the Jokermobile. He lifted his radio to call Batman.
Miles away, in Hero Headquarters, the merc with a mouth called Deadpool was in a cleaning frenzy. He’d been caught trying to steal Iron Man’s pants (again) and been sentenced to dust the entire mansion as punishment. Deadpool being Deadpool, he’d taken to his task ninja-style, leaping out from behind furniture to “sneak attack the dust bunnies”. So it was that he became tangled in the pendulum of the grandfather clock, accidentally pulled it down and discovered the secret entrance to the Batcave!
“Sweet,” Deadpool beamed, “I found the wine cellar! Time to get good and drunk!”
Of course, Deadpool soon realised he’d actually uncovered a super-secret super-hero lair (tripping, falling down the stairs and landing face-first on the Batwing gave him his first clue). When the Batcave’s hotline started ringing, the merc couldn’t resist answering. Adopting his best Batman voice (which was, honestly, not that bad an impersonation), Deadpool chatted to Gordon about the break-out and, more importantly, the involvement of Harley Quinn. The mere mention of the super-villain’s name sent Deadpool’s heartbeat into hyper-speed. He thought dreamily of her long, athletic legs… her tight costume… her oh-so-stylish red-and-black colour scheme… her tight costume… her crazed, homicidal expression… her tight costume… and knew what he had to do. “I have to find her before Batman and the cops do,” Deadpool said to himself, “and I have to help her kill the Joker! Then her heart will be free and she can fall in love with me!”
Intoxicated not by wine but puppy love, Deadpool prised open the Batwing’s cockpit and hot-wired its controls. With a whooping holler that was equal parts euphoria and sheer terror, the craziest hero in town piloted the Batwing out of its cave and up into the sky, beginning his haphazardly, barely-in-control search for the psychotic of his dreams.
Meanwhile, in Super Hero City, the stores had opened for the final shopping day before Christmas. People were everywhere and the place was a madhouse - precisely the sort of fun the Joker had been looking for. The grinning ghoul had already secretly stashed canisters of Joker gas throughout the shopping district. He watched, giggling with anticipation, as the frenzied consumers drew closer and closer to his booby-traps. Overcome with delight, he raised his remote control and… wailed as high-temperature laser blasts evaporated his festive bon-bons!
“Oh come on, Batsy, that’s just not cricket,” he fumed, stamping his foot. “You’re supposed to let me get a few licks in before you come rain on my parade! What, I’ve been gone so long that you’ve forgotten how the game is played?”
But it wasn’t Batman - it was Harley, and she was ticked off. Screaming near-incoherently about 47-page wish lists and Christmas presents, the harried hench-wench went on a murderous tear. Joker shrieked and, for the first time in his life, ran for his life as his erstwhile darling tried to take his head off! She even leaped aboard the Joker Mobile and fired up its slamming mallet arm, looking to squash her former beloved into paste! Terrified, well and truly off his game, Joker tripped and fell outside the Hero Times building. With a cold gleam in her eyes, Harley lined up the mallet for one final strike…
… that was blocked by the Batmobile! As his mighty car’s brakes squealed in protest, Batman reached out from the cockpit and fired a rope-line at the Joker. It snagged the clown’s ankle; Batman pulled him inside the Batmobile and stomped on the accelerator. A burst of flame from the car’s jet-like exhaust propelled it forward… and the Joker Mobile backward… as Batman unexpectedly pulled his arch nemesis out of harm’s way.
Cursing loudly, Harley slammed on the brakes. She stepped out of the Joker Mobile and sighed heavily. “I guess it could be worse,” she shrugged. “Maybe I can just keep this here jalopy as my belated Christmas present by default…”
A bat-shaped shadow loomed over her. Looking up, Harley saw the out-of-control Batwing plummeting toward the ground. She dove out of the way a split-second before the falling aircraft turned the Joker Mobile into a mess of smouldering, twisted metal. Robbed of her vengeance, stripped of her “gift”, frustrated in her efforts at self-empowerment, Harley did the only thing a disrespectable lunatic could do: she sank to her knees and cried like a baby.
Deadpool stepped out from the Batwing’s remains, wincing as his numerous life-threatening injuries were attended to by his healing factor (just because he’d mend didn’t mean it didn’t hurt). The first thing he saw was Harley Quinn, a vision of loveliness, weeping as she knelt among the shattered remnants of her former life. “The perfect moment to make my move,” he beamed.
What happened next could only be described as “insane synchronicity”. Lovesick, crazy hero met lovelorn, crazy villain… chemistry bubbled… attraction sizzled… electricity sparked. The clincher, though, was the present Deadpool had brought with him. The merc had stopped at his secret weaponry stash on the way and gathered, for Harley, a “Bouquet of Death” - namely a hideously-sharp assortment of swords, knives, daggers and axes wrapped in cellophane and topped with a black-and-red bow! The flesh-peeling arrangement won Harley’s heart in an instant and she all but melted for Deadpool. Seizing the opportunity, Deadpool took a grenade from his bandolier, pulled the ring and chucked the explosive over his shoulder (causing a thankfully-unoccupied delivery truck to explode). Dropping to one knee, he held the grenade’s ring-pull up to Harley and, voice quavering with emotion, asked her to “go steady”.
Batman and the Joker knew nothing of this sick-yet-sweet meeting of minds. The mortal enemies were several kilometres outside the city. Batman had, of course, cuffed the Joker securely. “Oh, pretty jewellery,” the clown quipped. “Does this mean we’re going steady, Batsy?”
“Don’t make me regret saving your life, Joker,” Batman growled.
“Normally I’d retort,” the criminal replied glumly, “except you really did pull my buns out of the toaster oven. Much as it pains me to admit it, Harley truly meant it this time. She had motive, opportunity - malice aforethought! - and the clear intent to do me grievous bodily harm resulting in death.” He scowled. “I’d be proud of her if she wasn’t such a damn pain in my rear end!”
Batman intended to take the Joker back to Arkham. The psychopath protested, claiming the facility had no way of protecting him (“I mean, have you seen how often people break out of that joint?”). They started arguing and quickly wound up right in each other’s face. The Dark Knight had just pulled back his right fist, ready to resolve the issue once and for all when, to his shock, one of the Batwing’s disc-shaped projectiles whizzed in between them!
Harley and Deadpool had caught up at last, having cannibalised pieces of the Batwing to get the Joker Mobile running again (mostly, it was being held together by duct tape, chewing gum and positive thinking). Deadpool sprang from the machine and slammed into the Joker, determined to exact vengeance on behalf of his paramour. So lost was he in a romantic/homicidal daze, he didn’t notice Harley zero in on Batman. “If it weren’t for you, Mistah J would have focused on me,” she howled. “I’m gonna cut those pointy ears off at the knees!”
No slouch in the combat stakes, Joker spun around so Deadpool’s sword-strike severed his handcuffs. Freed once more, the clown prince of crime snatched up his mallet, activated his acid-squirting boutonnière, clicked the heels of his pogo-boots together and went on the offensive. Quickly he discovered it’s incredibly hard to disfigure and dismember a foe with a healing factor; every bit of Deadpool he melted away simply re-grew and the merc kept coming. For the second time that day Joker found himself in a panic and in fear for his life. And, for the second time that day, salvation came on leathery wings - Batman pushed into the fracas and fought Deadpool back.
“Take a moment, Wilson, and think,” he urged, parrying katana blades with Batarangs. “You’ve come so far since arriving in Super Hero City. You’ve reached the point where the Avengers almost trust you! Are you really willing to throw it all away for a woman who’ll always be in love with another man, no matter what you do?”
Inside the mind of Wade Wilson, a cartoonish Deadpool labelled “thought” (wearing the blue, yellow and grey of Batman) went to war with a second cartoonish Deadpool labelled “lust” (wearing the normal ‘Pool uniform topped with a jester’s hat). T’was a hard-fought struggle, deep in the admittedly shallow recesses of the mercenary’s… well, let’s call it a “mind” and be charitable… but in the end, thought triumphed over lust and Deadpool returned to his senses.
Out in the real world, he shook off his passions and combined forces with Batman. While the Dark Knight re-captured the Joker (who was hurling bombs at Harley), Deadpool tried to talk his beloved down. “I know you want to kill him, Harl, and to be honest I do too,” he said soothingly. “But if you kill him, then your jail term’s only going to be even longer than it already is! They might lock you up in solitary and say you can’t have any visitors! And how would we see each other then?”
Harley stopped dead in her tracks. “You mean you’d come see me in the nut house? For reals?”
“Scout’s honour,” Deadpool saluted.
And with that, the chaos ended (aside from the Joker’s gagging noises, of course). Harley surrendered peacefully and the Joker grumpily re-took his place in Arkham (“At least there’ll be no more health hustles!”). Harley wasn’t allowed to keep the Bouquet of Death, of course, but Deadpool promised he’d bring a photo of the arrangement the very next day. He blew his crush a kiss and strolled into Arkham’s courtyard, where Batman was waiting.
“How much of a chance do you think we have?” Deadpool asked.
“Less than zero,” Batman snapped. Seeing Deadpool slump his shoulders in defeat, he added: “but it’s nice to see someone try treating Harley well. I suppose you never know.”
“I guess it is pretty heroic of me,” Deadpool brightened. “Maybe I’m getting the hang of this after all.”
“Maybe,” Batman agreed. His communicator signalled - it was a call from Robin, which he took immediately. “Batman here. Yes, Robin, I’m at Arkham Asylum. The Joker has been… what? Sorry, say again, I don’t think I heard you correctly. What do you mean, the Batwing has gone missing?”
Quietly as he could, Deadpool crept away…
-----THE END-----
Greet the Fire as Your Friend,
SF