American Comics: The Force Awakens

Arkham Asylum, maximum security interview room.

Every move during the meeting here will be recorded by surveillance cameras, and two guards armed with tranquilizer guns at the door will quickly resolve any troublesome situations that may arise.

The clown was wearing an orange prison uniform, his hands were cuffed by heavy shackles, and he was sitting at the table with a depressed look on his face. Even the smile on his face showed signs of getting smaller.

Opposite him, Dr. Quinzel, who was playing with his glasses, looked much more relaxed.She bit the temple of her glasses, looking up and down the craziest mental patient in Gotham with an interested expression, smiling.

"So, what's your problem?" he asked. "It's not early now, and Uncle Clown also needs to take a break from get off work."

"Harleen...Dr. Quinzel?" He glanced at the female doctor's badge and asked.

Ever since this woman who claimed to be a senior psychiatrist pulled him here from the dark single cell, she just sat here without saying a word, but she secretly exuded a feeling that made the clown feel very familiar. breath.

like himself.

"Wow, now you do sound like Mark Hamill." What he got was a lackluster compliment, and her grin widened, which made the clown not very happy.

He was usually the one who smiled the most, no one smiled better than him.

"You don't look very happy, why don't you smile?" the doctor asked. "You know, nothing is more contagious than a smile."

"That was my line," the clown muttered. "You stole my line."

Hell, are there any sane psychiatrists in this city, Klein, Tech, Strange.What's going on with this new crazy woman? Why haven't I heard of her before?

"You know, the city has become dull recently." The doctor said to himself, "Batman is busy dealing with the mafia, and he seems to have a new friend."

"Gordon, Dent, Balabala." The clown said nonchalantly, "They are all serious old guys, but don't worry, Uncle J will have the opportunity to teach them what a real smile is."

"No, I'm talking about Catwoman." She denied, "Although I haven't seen any signs yet, they have appeared in the same scene a lot recently."

As expected, Harley saw the Joker raise an eyebrow.

"That's really...unexpected, Little Cat," he said. "It's only been two weeks and Batman has forgotten his old friend. That's not good."

"So, I want you to do a favor." The doctor stood up and opened the file bag she carried with her. "Move your butt, okay? We all know this place is just like your home. You can come and leave whenever you want."

"What kind of place do you think this is, a comic book?" the clown asked angrily. "With just one storyboard, the magic master left the locked room. Do you know how much effort I have to spend every time I want to go out from here to have fun? ?"

There was a slight pain in his handcuffed arm, which surprised him: the erosion of chemical agents made him feel pain and other sensations several times slower than ordinary people. Such a gift would allow him to survive being beaten by Batman. He can laugh out loud, but he can't be made invulnerable.

He lowered his head and glanced down. A knife was accurately pierced into the artery of his arm. Blood spurted out. He was unable to see the female doctor's movements clearly.

"You know you can't kill me like this, right?" The clown raised his head and asked.

The spurted blood dyed the doctor's white robe an uneven red color, but Harley didn't care. She just smiled and took out the blood collection bottle she had prepared.

"Of course not. This is a gift. I am grateful to you. For something you haven't done yet." Blood was also sprinkled on her fair face.She wiped it casually, drawing a red arc on her cheeks.

Just like a smile.

"What?" the clown asked, watching helplessly as the blood collection bottle was gradually filled. "I thought you were just a psychiatrist."

"These days, people have to master something in order to survive, right?" Harley flicked the filled blood bottle with satisfaction. She casually tore open the blood-stained white coat, revealing the red and black brother inside. Special style skirt.

After thinking about it, he shook his head again and tied his blond hair into a twin tail.

She giggled for no reason: "I like your expression of not understanding the situation at all. It's much better than when you smile. By the way, remember to brush your teeth more often."

"My name is Harley Quinn and we will meet again in the future."

She opened the door and walked out briskly. The two guards who were supposed to be guarding the door were now slumped aside, with a look of fear on their faces, as if they were immersed in a nightmare.

The clown looked down, stretched out his neck, and pulled out the letter-cutting knife with his mouth.

After a while, the shackles fell to the ground.

"Bitch." He cursed and stretched his tied hands. The bleeding had stopped.

The knife dropped to the ground and the Joker disappeared through the doorway.

Arkham's sirens sounded.

............

Richard Daniel's penthouse

For a bank president, his residence was a little too luxurious.

Richard was in a good mood, and during the day, he successfully passed the Gotham Bank and Falconi Group's cooperation plan through the board of directors - even though Mr. Wayne showed disapproval of it.

"Business is business, and Gotham Bank will use a lot of Falconi Group's money." He said at the time.

Things went well, and shareholders mostly didn't care where Falconi's money came from, or they did but it was settled, who knows.

In short, he completed the task assigned to him by Mr. Falconi. It is foreseeable that he may be able to move to a more luxurious villa.

And this matter is worth opening a bottle of high-end red wine for him to have fun at night.

Suddenly, the lights in the apartment went out, and a black shadow rose from nowhere in the moonlight outside, and it had a pair of pointed ears from urban legend.

"Bat...Batman," he stammered.

"Don't put Falconi's money in the bank." A deep voice whispered like a demon.

The sound of the glass filled with wine falling to the floor was particularly clear in the silence.

The lights came on and it was like the devil had never been there.

But Daniel knew that he might have to reconsider his career plans.

On the roof of the apartment building, Batman stood and looked around.

"I have solved the president's problem." He said to the communication device. "He is very timid, he will know what's going on."

"I'm glad to hear you say that, Master Wayne," Alfred replied, his voice sounding a little uneasy. "But I'm afraid I have to tell you bad news, the Arkham alarm has gone off and no information has come out yet."

"Send me the Batmobile."

"It's driven downstairs on autopilot, sir."

Batman silently jumped down from the roof, the cape behind him unfolding into the shape of a bat's wings.

The top cover of the Batmobile opened in time, he fell into it accurately, and the engine roared.

The night in Gotham will be very long today.