Why did they even bother to host these things anymore?
After all, in a place like Gotham City, the annual Policeman’s Ball could have never ended well.
Wayne Manor’s chandelier lighting cast an eerily upbeat glow on the whole scene. Gotham’s bravest men and women huddled under tables or hugging the floor, praying softly to themselves in their finest clothes that they would make it through the night alive. Tables had been toppled and almost every window in the whole room had been shattered. Armed guards held the officers captive, holding them back in a nice semicircular formation. Fortunately Gotham’s favorite son, Bruce Wayne, had escaped just in time to avoid most of the action. That poor girl in the middle, however, wasn’t so lucky…
The Joker had crashed his fair share of parties before. With his penchant for multiple counts of homicide and his not-so-harmless gag toys, imposing himself on the (mostly) good folks of the GCPD was hardly worth tacking onto his rap sheet. Holding them up at gunpoint even, courtesy of his veritable army of grease-painted thugs, was nothing new. The fact that he had made his entrance by popping out of a cake, completely naked except for a pair of purple gloves and a sash of caution tape, was something entirely unexpected.
Beyond that, his interest in the new transfer from Keystone City was more troubling than anything.
“You know Officer Sennett, I’ve been keeping an eye on you.” the Joker rasped, pacing back and forth in front of the woman as she sobbed quietly into the tiled floor of Wayne Manor, “Ever since you got off that bus and wandered into Gotham City, for whatever reason, I just knew that you and I were going to get along.”
The officer in question was an average looking woman. Blonde hair, brown eyes, and a slightly taller build than most. Officer Mackenzie Sennett had just transferred from Keystone a few weeks ago, straight into the GCPD’s Major Crimes Unit. She’d put on her pretty blue dress and thought that she might go out and enjoy a good old fashioned party after the hard time she’d had adjusting to the grim atmosphere of Gotham City—maybe meet a nice guy, go out for a few drinks afterwards, and really just try to forget the past few days of costumed nonsense that plagued the people in her line of work.
Needless to say, that wasn’t happening.
“Oh God…” she whimpered, looking down at her knees as the naked psychopath paced in front of her, struggling against the rope restraining her hands “Whuh… What do you want?”
“That’s a good question, Mac. Well we all know Christmas is just around the corner, so maybe you and the boys and girls in blue could all chip in and get me something nice. A new suit. A pony. One of those little boxes from Hillshire Farms with sausage and cheeses in it?” his inhuman smile grew wider as he let out a roaring laugh, “But no, tonight isn’t about me—which explains why it’s such a lousy party—but rather, tonight is about you! Everyone in the old Gee-Cee-Pee-Dee but, more specifically, you.”
His voice lowered to a hiss as the final word left his lips. Poor Officer Sennett looked up, terrified and confused. Back in Keystone City, back home where she should be right now, Mackenzie had heard horror stories about Gotham City. She never took much stock in it—which was odd, considering how weird her home town got sometimes, but why should she have? What city allows a psychopathic killer clown to run around and torture people for his amusement? How could any of it have been real? They were just horror stories back then; ways for Johnson and LeBarbara to tease her. Just horror stories for cops.
“I… I don’t even know you…” she whimpered, “Puh…please…”
“Oh come now, you don’t have to get all teary-eyed about it!” Joker roared, “It’s nothing really, just a little ‘welcome to the force’ gift me and the Missus put together.”
“The… the missus?” Mackenzie bawled
“Oh that’s right, I almost forgot!” Joker slapped his head dramatically, “I never introduced you two! See you’re still new to town and so you might not have heard of my lovely assistant.” His voice returned from falsely apologetic to energetic as he faced the sea of goons holding the officers hostage, “Come on out, Harl! And make sure to smile, after all it is her party!”
At his insistence the crowd of grease-painted thugs parted slightly to reveal Harley Quinn, his number one henchwench.
How's Harley looking these days?
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