Unleashing a Criminal Combination

As cool air swirled around Batgirl, she considered the circumstances leading up to her present predicament. In what might prove to be a startlingly ironic countermove, once Poison Ivy had arrived to rescue her, Harley Quinn had neatly turned around the trap Batgirl had set for the Joker. By simply taking part in the inevitable fight, the woman being used as bait had efficiently ensnared the Curved Crusader.

Now, suspended above the counter in the deserted flower shop, Batgirl tried to keep from shivering as the thorny vines encircling her body tore at her costume and flesh. The thorns behind her neck had already shredded the thin material enveloping her shoulders. Other thorns nestled between her breasts; crisscrossed her abdomen; entwined her waist; and were sandwiched between her thighs and buttocks. The thorns wrapping her upper arms had buried themselves in her sides and were constantly becoming more deeply entrenched in the lacerations they had made in her costume and her flesh.

As she assessed the thorns’ effectiveness, Batgirl contrasted the two deathtraps she had faced at the flower shop, courtesy of Poison Ivy. During their confrontation involving the Christmas trees, the voluptuous villainess had lured Batgirl there and hung her by the neck. Only the heroine’s grip on the smooth vine had prevented Batgirl from slowly choking to death. Poison Ivy had anticipated Batgirl’s survival strategy, arranging for a slick fluid to flow along the vine, so first the fluid and then the vine would slip through Batgirl’s fingers and fulfill the predicament’s deadly function.

At that time, movement had been the key to pursuing every means of escape Batgirl had considered. Now, movement was to be the means of her execution, and the rotating fans chilling her together with the water Poison Ivy used to drench her limbs and back would prevent her from remaining still.

Also, the Curved Crusader was alone and had only herself upon whom to rely for survival. The guards Poison Ivy and her girls had incapacitated were unlikely to know Batgirl had even been taken.

Her quivering limbs ached under the strain of bearing her weight as thorns cut deeper and deeper furrows into her gloves and boots. Unfortunately, her costume’s tightly-stretched material – which normally showcased Batgirl’s fantastic, feminine figure – seemed as thin as tissue paper while the sharp thorns did their deadly work.

She resigned herself to the pain as she took a deep breath and turned her head. Her reflection in the glass front of an unplugged, refrigerated display case allowed her to study the slowly widening gaps in the fabric at her shoulders and above her waist, through which the cold would inexorably become more intense.

The arms and legs of her outfit had also shredded as her body turned and her muscles were stretched to their limits. As she concentrated on devising a means of escape, Batgirl knew she would suffer terribly. According to Poison Ivy’s plan, the thorns would dig through the tattered remains of her costume and slowly penetrate her flesh, before first tearing layer after layer of skin, and then muscle, from her bones. ‘I’m shivering already!’ Batgirl thought. ‘Soon, blood will begin to flow!’

Her captors had given her time to attack her bindings, and the Dominoed Daredoll knew to survive, she would need to make use of it. ‘How can I attack these thorny vines?’ Batgirl wondered. 'They are vulnerable, but any approach I employ to escape will necessarily involve movement . . . and movement is designed to be the means of my destruction!'

A moan escaped Batgirl’s lips as she exhaled and felt the scrape of thorns as they cut into her chest. She could see a dark splotch begin to expand against the flesh of one shoulder. ‘Blood!’ she thought. ‘Poison Ivy has thought of everything!’

Batgirl blinked involuntarily as light reflected briefly on the golden girdle still wound around her waist. Her utility belt held a vast array of wonders and weapons she might employ in the course of her escape. To do so, she would simply have to reach the appropriate tools.

‘Most villains take my belt away before trying to kill me,’ Batgirl thought. ‘Of course, in the past Poison Ivy has typically found ways to occupy my hands, so reaching my belt was impossible. Harley might not have thought of removing the belt, although Joker would certainly at least consider depriving me of it.’

As Batgirl’s mind worked, she tried to move her fingers and gasped as the pins and needles sensation denoting oxygen-deprivation enveloped her hands. A soft, painful cry escaped her lips. ‘If I’m right and Poison Ivy really thought of everything, why would she leave me access to the tools I can use to free myself?’

She inhaled and pulled her waist up toward her hands. Batgirl winced as thorns tore free from the flesh of her shoulders and torso, while digging all the more deeply into her back.

‘I get it! Ivy left me my utility belt to tantalize me, imagining the thorns would make it impossible for me to reach it, no matter how hard I try!’ Batgirl thought. ‘She thinks the belt offers an incentive to move and her thorns will tear me to shreds when I succumb! She knows I will. Well, if I’m right about her intentions, I’ll just have to prove Poison Ivy wrong!’

Batgirl’s fingers brushed her belt as her strength failed, causing her to settle suddenly back into the cruel cradle in which the villains had left her. The thorns impaling her shoulders, abdomen, thighs, and upper arms dug more deeply into her, while those in her calves, forearms, and back scratched deep welts in her flesh.

‘They left me my belt and gave me time to use my crimefighting tools,’ Batgirl thought. She heard herself gasp as she shifted her hands to maintain the circulation she had restored in her fingers. ‘Poison Ivy was right. Thorns cut into my costume and bury themselves in my flesh, then tear away skin whenever I move. Escaping from this trap, assuming it’s even possible, is going to hurt!’

She decided to rest briefly as her escape plan developed. Reaching her utility belt would be possible, but it would be best to decide upon what tool to use against her bindings ahead of time. Her costume held several knives and other items that could be used for cutting. Batgirl was, however, uncertain any would be ideal. ‘If I use a blade to get out of this, the thorns really will carve my wrists into hamburger once my gloves are shredded. I’ll be bleeding severely before the knife is even out and in position. There’s got to be something better!’

One possibility was her torch, which relied upon a flame. The thorny vines were certainly flammable and she could be free of them quickly. On the other hand, she was in no position to control the fire upon which she would have to rely to survive. If it got out of control, she could easily imagine herself trapped among Poison Ivy’s vines as she was asphyxiated.

There was, though, another possibility she decided would be better. ‘Can I reach it?’

She stretched her fingers toward her utility belt and raised her waist, twisting so she could reach her Bat-Compact. Gasping, she could feel the gashes in her costume separating further, widening the gaps over her thighs, hips, and back. Holding her breath, her fingers explored the pouch on her belt where she kept it.

Moments later, her fingers took hold of her Bat-Compact and slowly pulled it free. She knew if the precious item fell through her fingers, she would be likely to die.

The Bat-Compact contained a Bat-Laser, which she once bragged was capable of destroying anything. Once she was sure of her grip, Batgirl let herself relax and felt the familiar, torturous tug of the thorns as they rent her flesh and simultaneously embedded themselves in her body once again.

Now, a second sinister sensation followed. It was the feeling of a sticky fluid spreading across her damaged skin. ‘I’m bleeding freely now!’

She glanced at her reflection and confirmed her observation. “Time to go,” she muttered, positioning her Bat-Laser and considering the power to employ in order to sever the vines lacerating her.

Cutting herself free was critical, but she did not want to use so much power her surroundings would be destroyed, too. Batgirl turned her device to the lowest setting and activated it.

The laser focused on the central knot holding Batgirl aloft for exactly one minute . . . before her body fell to the counter top and rolled off! She moaned after hitting the floor and remained shivering for a long time as the pain wracking her body slowly numbed.

“I’m going to live,” Batgirl said joyfully, shifting and feeling thorns tear away from her body. The difference this time was, more thorns did not immediately impale her. Slowly, she extricated herself from Poison Ivy’s thorny vines, put away her equipment, and leaned against the counter to examine the damage the thorns had done.

Her costume was, with the exception of her cape and cowl, ruined, but still covered enough to enable her to be considered decent. The lacerations which had been bleeding had, for the most part, clotted and the tattered remains of her outfit soaked up the excess fluid.

Draping her cape over her shoulders and examining her reflection once again, Batgirl felt she could safely fight crime while maintaining more than a semblance of modesty. ‘Now all I have to do is return to the Batgirlcycle.’

Meanwhile, at the Gotham City National Bank, a blast of acid left a smoking hole in place of the front door’s lock and the electrical buzzer in the Joker’s gloved hands overwhelmed the security system seconds later. “There,” he said, laughing as he pulled the fried control panel away from the wall and carelessly tossed it aside. From his pocket, he took another piece of equipment and wired it into the missing component’s place. “This should fool anyone monitoring the bank’s security system. Anybody watching will believe it’s still functioning perfectly.” He engaged the new device and smiled as amber lights began blinking, indicating his device was working.

“Won’t they know we’ve already breached security?” Maria asked.

“I doubt it,” Joker replied. “About a decade ago . . . give or take . . . there was a city-wide power outage that came at a fortuitous time for the Dynamic Dingbats. Since then, very little has been done to upgrade the city’s power grid. This attack was so quick, the system should overlook it. So, we can loot the vault at our leisure! Boys, come and help me while the girls see to the rest of the bank. We don’t want to miss a cent!” He encouraged his minions with a merry laugh.

Everyone assented and the criminals dispersed to proceed with their wicked work. At the vault, Joker directed, “Now, Jack, you should be able to adjust your eyepiece so it gives you x-ray vision.”

“Okay,” Jack O’Shea said, reaching for the eyepiece and adjusting it so he could look into the vault door. “I’ve been practicing.”

“Can you see the tumblers?”

“Oh yeah,” Jack O’Shea enthused, nodding. “This gizmo is great!“ He laughed.

Joker joined briefly in his henchman’s merriment. “Good. Now, kindly direct Mister Spade as he slowly turns the vault’s combination dial. Once the tumblers have fallen into place, I’ll open the door and everything inside will be ours!” Joker went on laughing more softly as his men worked.

Minutes later, the vault door opened and interior lights blazed, projecting a circular beam of light outward.

Batgirl had taken public transportation to where she had hidden the Batgirlcycle. Fortunately, at this late hour, there were not many riders to see more of her skin than she was used to displaying in her Batgirl persona.

Cruising through Gotham City on her bike, she saw the sudden flash of light caused by the opening vault door and felt the unmistakable flow of adrenaline begin. Subconsciously, she knew what the source of the light must be and turned toward the bank, accelerating.

“I’ve caught you red-handed, Joker!” she declared, striding purposefully into the bank. She looked at the main entrance with disgust. “You’ll be charged with vandalism, as well as robbery, once I’ve finished placing all of you under arrest!”

“Batgirl!” the startled Joker exclaimed. He looked at her tattered costume. "It looks like you've had a rough night!"

"Not nearly as rough as yours is about to become!" Batgirl warned.

“It can’t be!” Harley Quinn added, whirling toward the Curved Crusader, who regarded the criminals with her hands on her hips and her legs spread to shoulder width. “You should be dead by now!”

“Nope,” Batgirl sweetly replied. “You’ll have plenty of time to guess at how I survived!”

“Harley, how do you know Batgirl is supposed to have died?” Joker asked.

“Oh. I guess we got to work so quick after I got back, I didn’t get a chance to tell you how my friend Poison Ivy–”

“Okay. Tell me later,” Joker said. “Batgirl, as you can see, it’s obvious you have a knack for turning up unexpectedly. Oh, and while it’s certainly true you’ve caught us, the odds are overwhelmingly in my favor. Come on, boys. Let’s get her!”

The criminal clown led the charge, laughing all the while, and Batgirl barely hesitated before clobbering him with a showgirl high kick. The Joker hit the floor like a sack of potatoes.

Batgirl had no time to gloat, as Spade’s fist whipped past her head and she responded by hitting his chin with a pair of lightning-quick strikes. An elbow slammed into Jack O’Shea’s side seconds later, stunning the other thug before a forcefully delivered stiff-arm knocked O'Shea to the floor.

Batgirl hauled Joker to his feet and sent him back to the floor with her fist. Harley Quinn, Maria, and Queenie looked on with growing trepidation.

“She’s mopping the floor with them!” Maria fearfully complained.

“We’ll have to get in there,” Queenie urged.

“You don’t seriously plan to fight her?” Maria asked.

“I’ve beaten her before,” Queenie bragged. “Of course, she had been softened up pretty well at the time.”

“We can beat Batgirl. She’ll tire out pretty quick, after what Poison Ivy put her through. Besides, nobody ever said we were gonna fight fair. If you two can get Spade and Jack out of there, I can get Joker,” Harley Quinn confidently said. “Then, we’ll take good care of that purple pain in the butt!” Harley Quinn went on speaking for another full minute.

"Are you sure?” Maria dubiously asked. “I’m most definitely not a fighter. This is the kind of work I would typically assign to a large group of hand-picked men.”

“They’re called goons,” Harley Quinn observed.

Maria nodded.

“I’m afraid we are Joker’s goons at the moment,” Queenie said, grinning maliciously. “Batgirl, however, has badly underestimated us.”

“She may not even realize we’re here,” Maria pointed out.

“Good point,” Harley Quinn enthused. “If you’re right, that’s gonna change!”

Maria helplessly shrugged and dismissed her concerns as wicked, knowing smiles illuminated her companions’ pretty faces.

The fiendish, feminine trio hurried toward the vault, while Batgirl sent Spade and Jack O’Shea in opposite directions. Both collapsed as Maria and Queenie hurried to where they had fallen. Harley Quinn rushed to the Joker on the floor and dipped a hand into his coat pocket. Batgirl approached inexorably.

“Mister J brought a little something for you to play with, B-girl!” the curvy clown announced, straightening.

“I didn’t come here to play games, Harley,” Batgirl declared.

“Neither - did - I!” Harley said, leaping at Batgirl. The heroine sidestepped and Harley turned, to face her opponent as the others dragged the fallen thugs to safety. Joker shook his head and began to stand.

“Come on,” Batgirl urged, motioning for Harley to approach.

Harley Quinn smiled as she and Batgirl circled one another. The marvelous-looking moll happily noted the villains’ retreat was well underway, and began retreating herself. “Play time is over now, B-girl.”

‘She’s been playing for time!’ Batgirl thought, as she realized what Harley Quinn and her female companions had achieved. “Had enough?” Batgirl asked, doing nothing to blunt the edge in her voice.

“Hardly,” Harley triumphantly replied, tossing a drawstring bag into the air. “Now, Queenie!” the colorful clown-girl cried.

Batgirl instinctively reached up to catch the bag as the older, blonde henchwoman pointed at it, sending a sharp blade flashing toward it through the air. Harley Quinn, meanwhile, dove at Joker and hit him with enough force to move him aside.

The Purple-clad Paragon’s eyes widened as Queenie’s blade severed the bag in midair, spilling several tiny spheres to the floor. As the first hit he floor, it burst with an explosion that sent a shock wave outward and caused the other spheres to explode as well. The blast flung Batgirl back and slammed her head and back into the wall. She crumpled helplessly as the void of oblivion enveloped her.

“Wow! That explosion really did a number on Batgirl,” Maria said.

“Just you wait,” Harley said. “We haven’t even started on her yet.” She helped the Joker back to his feet. “Are you okay, Puddin’?”

“I’m ecstatic, my dear! I just love it when you race into my arms like that . . . and you’ve just completely incapacitated Batgirl to boot!” Joker laughed. “She’s utterly helpless!”

“Boss,” Jack O’Shea said, “we have some decisions to make. Spade and I can tie Batgirl up. I know you don’t want to miss a chance to get rid of her.”

“Even though she interrupted our work here, I may have another use for Batgirl just now. Never fear, though. For her, the clock is ticking!” Joker said, laughing uproariously. Once he had finished, he said, “Leave Batgirl to me. The rest of you have the valuables in the vault to plunder. After all, we’re a profit-oriented, criminal enterprise. Hurry! Time is money!”

Joker gave in to a compulsive desire to laugh as he moved to one of the many desks arranged for customers in the bank lobby, snatched at the pens until he found one that worked, and began writing. When he had finished, he tucked his composition beneath Batgirl’s utility belt and joined his minions.

Less than ten minutes later, they had gone. Only Batgirl’s prone body and the echoes of the Joker’s maniacal laughter remained.

“What a night,” Batgirl muttered later as she recovered. It took her a moment to stand and shake off the effects of the explosion before she could turn her attention to the note tucked under her belt. Her eyes widened as she read:

Batgirl,

I have Warden Crichton and I want Don Wallace. I’ll call the Commissioner to arrange an exchange. I’ll kill you and both of them if you try to interfere. Have a nice day.

Your arch-enemy,
Joker

Sergeant Goldberg was surprised when Batgirl walked into Police Headquarters, carefully crossed the lobby, and leaned against his desk for support. “I sent a squad car and a forensics team to the bank, but haven’t heard from them yet, Batgirl.”

“It’s too early to expect a report, Sergeant,” Batgirl said. “I was hoping Doctor Vince would be in tonight.”

Goldberg nodded. “Are you okay?”

“I’ve been better,” Batgirl answered, favoring him with a cheerful grin. “I’ll be fine. Thank you for asking.”

The Sergeant had noted the condition of her costume immediately. “I can tell the Doc you want to see him.” His voice softened as he offered, “Do you want someone to walk you down?”

“I know the way. Thank you.”

“Should I tell the Lieutenant you’re here?”

“Sure, but I have nothing new to tell anyone right now.”

“Right,” Sergeant Goldberg said as Batgirl disappeared down a corridor. He reached for the phone at his desk.

As Batgirl walked to the infirmary, she felt herself smile, recalling the handsome doctor who had cared for Gotham City’s costumed crime fighters over the years. When Batgirl had met him, he had been helping Batman and Robin cope with a powerful itching agent to which Poison Ivy had exposed them. The Curved Crusader’s aid on that occasion had been invaluable, since she had provided the hard-won antidote. The case had been the doctor’s second involving the Dynamic Duo. A decade earlier he had been in charge of returning them from the frozen condition in which Mister Freeze’s ice gun had placed them.

Batgirl had first seen the man she now considered “her” doctor as a patient reluctantly after Black Widow had injected tiny spider eggs among the layers of her skin and prepared to induce hatching. The physician had been thoroughly professional as he rendered the eggs harmless and gathered samples to use as evidence against the senior citizen supervillainess.

Batgirl had been so pleased by her treatment on that occasion – a necessarily thorough massage – she had been delighted when she learned the Doctor had been along to help her recover after a hot air balloon ride upon which the Penguin and Catwoman had launched her during a thunderstorm. He had brought her out of unconsciousness and tended to wounds she had received in the course of her ordeal, before she had used a small deception to arrange for him to hold her closely while she thanked him with kisses.

“It’s nice to see you again, Batgirl,” the muscular doctor said as he greeted her, extending a hand. “How can I help you?”

“I’ve had another encounter with Poison Ivy,” she said, shaking his hand. “I’m afraid she did a number on me. I thought it might be a good idea if you patched me up.”

“It would be my pleasure,” Doctor Vince said, gesturing at one of his patient chairs and sitting at his desk after leading the heroine to his office. “Why don’t you tell me what happened.”

Batgirl did, concluding. “I brought another costume to put on after you've finished.”

“I think that was wise. There won’t be much left – except the cape, cowl, and wig – when I’ve finished. It might be a good idea for you to take a shower afterwards, too.”

“That does sound heavenly,” Batgirl admitted.

“I’m glad you trust me,” Doctor Vince said.

“Me, too,” Batgirl said, grinning.

“Okay,” the Doctor said, “you won’t need your belt or cape. We’ll get started as soon as you’re ready.”

Soon, the Curved Crusader was stretched out on her stomach atop a padded table, feeling the gentle tug and hearing the soft snip as tattered fabric was cut away from her wounds before her injuries were cleaned with antiseptics and sealed with liquid bandages. There was nothing to do but relax and feel his strong hands working on her, until he asked her to roll over. They both realized they were grinning at one another before the work continued.

When Doctor Vince had finished, Batgirl covered the remains of her costume with a robe and made her way to the nearby women’s shower room, which was deserted. She did not hurry with the soap or shampoo before toweling herself dry and putting on an undamaged Batgirl costume.

“How do you feel?” Doctor Vince asked, grinning at her as she returned to the infirmary after nodding to the officer who had been summoned to assure her of complete privacy.

“Much better,” Batgirl said seriously. “Thank you again. You were magnificent, as always.”

“I appreciate that, Batgirl,” Doctor Vince said. “It’s all part of the service. Do you have any leads on Joker, Harley Quinn, or Poison Ivy?”

“For the moment, the note looks like my most promising avenue. I was planning to wait for the Commissioner.”

“I’ll walk you up to his office,” Doctor Vince offered.

“Great!” Batgirl eagerly replied.

Once there, Doctor Vince sat beside her on one of the more comfortable couches. “I may be able to learn something from the tatters of your old costume,” he said. “I may find some tiny pieces of the vine Poison Ivy used to bind you. It will take time, but the effort might be worthwhile. I know how valuable evidence against these colorful, crooked characters can be.”

Doctor Vince glanced at Batgirl and realized she had fallen asleep. He smiled and waited to stand until he was sure he would not wake her. Then, he spread a blanket over her and quietly closed the double doors behind him.

Hours later, the Commissioner arrived at his office to find his disguised daughter curled up, asleep, under a blanket on one of his more comfortable couches.

He gently touched her shoulder and leaned over her to say, “Barbara?” softly. She stirred and blinked several times.

“Daddy?” she murmured. Their surroundings and her attire came into focus and she inhaled, concerned she had given away Batgirl’s secret identity. She then realized they were alone and recalled she had previously revealed her duel persona to her father. She relaxed visibly and smiled. “I’m glad Joker and Poison Ivy aren’t keeping you up all night.”

“Can I thank them for this pleasant surprise?”

“Partly,” Batgirl admitted. “It’s a long story.”

“I’ll make us some coffee,” the Commissioner offered, as Batgirl began telling him everything.

When she had finished, Commissioner Gordon said, “You’ve been risking your life for years. I have to admit, though, knowing what I know now, I have a hard time not wanting to go out after those devils myself this instant with my old service revolver!”

“I appreciate that. I promise to be mindful of everything when I meet those crooks again.”

James Gordon grinned. “I know you’re perfectly capable of repaying our mutual foes in-kind for ill treatment.”

Batgirl looked seriously at her father. “Had Joker wanted, I’d be fighting for my life in some elaborate deathtrap right now. He had me!”

“Instead, according to the note you gave me, he wants Don Wallace in exchange for the Warden,” the Commissioner mused. “I haven’t met Mister Wallace and I’d hate for anything bad to happen to him, but I read his rap sheet yesterday. On a human-worth scale, we’d come out way ahead in this exchange.”

Batgirl now looked at her father in horror. “You’re not seriously considering turning Wallace over to the Joker?!”

“No, dear.” He patted his daughter on her gloved right hand. “He’s in a safe house. We’ll offer him protection until Joker is safely back in jail.”

Batgirl exhaled.

“I don’t suppose the threat Joker made will deter you from trying to stop him?”

“Not a chance!” Batgirl replied. “So, I wonder when Joker will contact you with instructions for the exchange.”

Just then, Commissioner Gordon’s secretary, Bonnie, leaned into the office. “Good morning, sir. Warden Crichton is on the line for you,” she said. Bonnie then did a double-take. “Oh. Hello, Batgirl.”

“I’ll take the call,” the Commissioner said, switching on his speaker phone.

“Commissioner?” the Warden’s familiar voice asked.

“Good morning. I’m glad you called–”

“Listen, Jim. I don’t have much time. Joker wants a man named Don Wallace, who is apparently in police custody. He says he will kill me unless you give the poor fellow to–”

The Warden was interrupted by a peal of riotous laughter. “That’s right, Commissioner!” Joker said. “The Warden is my guest, but I’ll be tired of his company by the time the tide comes in at Hill Docks in North Gotham. Bring Don and we’ll make a little trade. See you soon!” Joker began to laugh, preventing the Commissioner from saying another word before the line went dead.

The Commissioner pounded the top of his desk as he regarded Batgirl. “I’m sick and tired of criminals using this office to make demands and jerk the city around! Let’s get down to that rendezvous point and prepare a little reception for that crazy clown!”

“He’s going to be early for the meeting, too, though.”

The Commissioner took in some air and nodded, exhaling slowly.

“If I were to set up some of the party favors I think you have in mind,” Batgirl suggested, “we’ll be less likely to scare Joker off and thus endanger the Warden.”

“I’m not giving up Don Wallace,” the Commissioner said resolutely. “The Warden understands I can’t give the next crackpot who wants to take a hostage any reason to feel the idea can be successful.”

“I’ll see you at the rendezvous,” Batgirl said, hurrying from the office.

“Godspeed, Batgirl,” The Commissioner said to his closed double doors. Seconds later, he was reaching for his intercom to assemble a team to help him handle the exchange.

Shortly thereafter, Batgirl was examining Hill Docks in North Gotham through her Bat-Binoculars, seeing nothing out of the ordinary. Cautiously, she approached the docks on foot, being careful not to show herself.

Suddenly, Batgirl stiffened as maniacal laughter proved Batgirl’s prediction about Joker’s early arrival had been accurate. All was not as it appeared.

‘Where is he?’ she silently wondered, scowling and resting her hands on her shapely hips. ‘Joker will certainly try to double-cross the authorities. The questions is: how?’

Unbidden, Batgirl recalled how Amazonia’s female environmental terrorists, the WEEPers, had arranged armed explosives on her belt before tying her to a pier beside a deserted berth in New Zealand. It had been unclear whether the hull of the villains’ target, a commercial fishing boat called the Mariner, had been intended to crush her before the explosives did their deadly work on both her and the ship. Batgirl’s memory of how her body had been camouflaged with cargo netting to await her uncertain fate suggested the Joker’s probable approach.

“Of course,” she muttered, resisting the noisy temptation to slam one fist into a gloved hand. ‘He’s tying the Warden to the dock supports!’

Maintaining what she hoped would be a concealing crouch, the Curved Crusader silently raced to the water’s edge. She waited behind the stern of a boat from which she could easily see the pilings below the pier.

A smile curled her lips without reaching her eyes. ‘I was right!’ she thought. Joker and Harley Quinn stood on a platform, suspended from the pier beside a ladder and a wooden column, against which the Warden was leaning and around which his arms had been wrapped and bound. Additional ropes were wound around his chest, knees, and ankles. ‘The high water mark is a foot above his head!’

Harley Quinn was holding the Warden’s head in her hands and kissing him hard on the lips. “Bye bye, boss,” she said before climbing to the pier above. Joker watched appreciatively as his hands knotted a gag behind the prison official’s neck.

“Now, we’ll leave you for the incoming tide, Warden,” Joker said. He smiled kindly at his captive and explained. “Don’t worry. You’ll stay dry – well, mostly – if the cops go through with the trade I’ve proposed.” The Joker’s face took on the aspect of a sad clown. “Otherwise, you’ll literally be all wet!” He patted the prison official on the head and laughed uproariously before following the curvaceous clown-girl to the overhead pier.

Batgirl sank silently into the water and moved forward, pulling herself quietly toward the captive. ‘I can turn the tables on Joker, if I can free the Warden in time,’ she thought. ‘I wonder, though, where is the rest of Joker’s gang?’

The Warden’s eyes widened in surprise as Batgirl pulled herself onto the platform upon which the villains had stood moments earlier. She put a finger to her lips and drew a blade from her boot with which she began to cut at the Warden’s bonds. As she worked, half a dozen police cars pulled onto the pier.

“It’s the cops, Harley!” Joker enthused, laughing. “What do you suppose they could possibly want with us?”

Harley Quinn shrugged, spreading her arms with upraised hands, grinning at the Clown Prince of Crime. “Beats me, boss.”

“You know what we want, Joker!” Commissioner Gordon angrily said.

“I suppose I do,” the criminal clown conceded conversationally. “Did you bring good ol’ Donny-boy?”

“I’ll produce him, when you show me the Warden!”

Batgirl’s blade began working at the second bundle of ropes binding the Warden.

“That’s not how this deal is going to work, Commissioner!”

“If you expect me to participate, it will go just like that, Joker!”

“You brought a lot of cops with you this morning,” the Joker observed. “You know, I don’t suppose Don is in any of those cars!”

“You won’t find out, unless I see the Warden!” Commissioner Gordon said.

Batgirl cut the remaining ropes from the Warden’s lower body and freed his hands with a single slash. The Warden immediately reached for the gag from his mouth and Batgirl put a finger to her lips again before removing it for him. The Warden smiled down at the Curved Crusader as she returned to her work cutting at his bonds.

“I’m the one in control of this situation!” the Joker declared.

“What makes you think so?” Commissioner Gordon asked.

“I’ve set up a deadline!” the Joker said, laughing uproariously. “Unless we conclude our business before the tide comes in, I won’t have anything with which to bargain!”

“What do you mean, Joker?” the Commissioner demanded.

‘Tell him, Harley,” Joker instructed, grinning at her and squeezing the doctor’s waist as he wrapped an arm around her.

“The Warden is under this pier – somewhere – all tied up. Unless we get Don before the tide comes all the way in, it will just be too bad for my old boss. Tell me, does any other girl have a fella who will help her murder her boss?”

“We’ll find him and get him out of there!” Commissioner Gordon declared and he started to turn toward his men.

“Not so fast, Commissioner! There’ll be no peeking until I see Don,” Joker cautioned. “I’ve got people in position to make sure all of you follow my rules.”

“No need to peek, Joker!” Batgirl said, stepping onto the pier from the ladder behind the criminal couple. “Warden Crichton is safe and I want both of you! You’re under arrest, but I’ll give you a chance to come quietly. It’s up to you whether we do this the easy way or the hard way.”

Joker let go of Harley, whirled to face the newcomer, and stepped back. “I warned you, Batgirl–”

Batgirl grinned. “You threatened to kill the Warden, Don Wallace, and me. Right now, the Warden is safe, you have no idea where Don Wallace is, and I’m about to show you just how alive I am!”

“Puddin’, I’m startin’ to think the Commissioner brought Batgirl instead of Don,” Harley Quinn said, turning to regard both her companion and Batgirl.

“This Department does not negotiate with criminals in hostage situations!’ Commissioner Gordon firmly said. He conveniently forgot to mention the times his masked colleagues had done so.

“It looks like you’re right, Harley,” the Joker sourly said. “So, Commissioner, you double-crossed me instead of getting double crossed. I ask you. Is that fair?”

“If you’d like to register a complaint, I’m all ears,” Batgirl said, sweetly smiling and turning side to side and dipping to show off the Bat-ears on her cowl.

“That is it!” Joker fumed. “I’m the one who tells the jokes around here! Now you’ve pushed me too far! I’m going to plan B!” He stuck two fingers in his mouth and whistled once, shrilly. Harley raced toward the end of the dock and Batgirl while Joker kept pace beside his moll.

Batgirl spread her arms and lunged at the criminal couple, slamming them both to the wooden planks of the pier. She heard a series of impacts as she tumbled to her feet and prepared for Joker and Harley Quinn to counterattack. Instead, both rolled to opposite the sides of the pier and fell, landing in the water with two loud splashes. Puzzled, Batgirl looked around to see what was happening.

Blades had impaled the gas tanks of each police car on the pier and a puddle of flammable gasoline was growing rapidly. Out in the water, the Joker and Harley Quinn where being helped aboard a speedboat, from which Jack O’Shea could clearly be seen watching the pier through his eyepiece.

Suddenly, Batgirl understood the Joker’s backup plan. “He’s going to blow up the pier!” she shouted. “Everybody jump!” She quickly took her own advice before the echo of her warning was drowned out by the sound of an enormous explosion.

A full minute later, Batgirl looked at the floating inferno the pier had become and was relieved to see several heads emerging from the water. One of them was her father.

“Where’s Batgirl?” the Commissioner demanded and was immediately relieved when he spotted his daughter. “Is everyone else all right?” the public official asked.

All the police officers and the Warden respond affirmatively.

“Well, that didn’t work,” the Joker philosophically said. “Let’s get away from here, Spade.”

“Just a minute,” Harley Quinn said. “We’re not lettin’ the Commissioner and Batgirl get away with double-crossin’ us, are we?”

“We did something about it already,” Queenie said, indicating the wreckage of the police cars and the flaming pier.

“Oh, that’s nothin’ compared to what we're gonna do,” Harley Quinn predicted, lifting a trombone case from the boat’s deck.

“You’re nuts if you’re going to use that!” Jack O’Shea exclaimed, seeing what the case contained.

“Where did you get that?” Spade demanded, glancing at the open case as his eyes widened.

“Puddin’ bought all of you weapons,” Harley Quinn reminded him. “I wanted one, too.”

“Joker,” Queenie asked, “isn’t a bazooka a little excessive?”

“It was what she wanted,” Joker explained with a shrug. “She picked it out. Who am I to say ‘no’ to her?”

“I think I’ll just turn Batgirl, the Commissioner, and those cops into a bunch of toasted marshmallows!” Harley said, aiming her weapon.

Batgirl watched the Joker’s getaway boat until she saw Harley aiming her bazooka at them. “Everybody dive—now!” she shouted.

Seconds later, a fireball ascended from a cloud of steam before exploding above the water where the pier had been, while Spade guided the getaway boat out to sea and accelerated.

Warden Crichton stared at the scene of destruction with wide-eyed horror. He released a deep breath he had not realized he was holding when he saw heads bobbing in the water after the steam cleared. ‘Could the Commissioner, Batgirl, or any of the officers who had come to rescue me have survived?’ he wondered, counting.

Relief washed over him as he saw arms begin to propel all of the heads toward the shore. “Is everyone all right?” the Warden asked, hurrying to where the survivors came ashore.

“I think we’re all okay,” the Commissioner said. “Batgirl’s quick-thinking probably saved all our lives.”

“Thank you for coming after me,” the Warden said before Batgirl could respond.

“No problem, Warden,” the Commissioner said. “Now, I’d like to catch Joker and explain my feelings about kidnapping to him. Do you have any idea what his plans are, Batgirl?” He turned expectantly to the Curved Crusader.

“Joker has been focused on Don Wallace – the man who ruined his henchman recruiting-drive at the Ye Olde Benbow Taverne – to the exclusion of everything else, except breaking his current gang out of jail.”

“Lieutenant Mooney has arranged police protection for Mister Wallace at a safe house,” the Commissioner explained.

“If Joker continues to obsess over this man, Wallace, that vile villain may go after people to find the safe house,” the Warden reasoned aloud.

“Well, he probably thinks we’re all dead now, and Chief O’Hara is safely at Police Headquarters,” the Commissioner said.

“Diana!” Batgirl exclaimed, her voice not completely concealing her concern. “I’ve got to make sure she’s okay. There may not be a moment to lose!”

“Good luck, Batgirl!” the Commissioner called as she whirled, racing toward where the Batgirlcycle was hidden.

“Hit Joker at least once for me!” the Warden yelled.

Batgirl glanced over her shoulder, favoring the Warden with a dazzling smile and a wave of acknowledgement.

“I worry,” the Commissioner admitted, “but we’re blessed to have her.”

Warden Crichton looked at the Commissioner. He couldn’t quite read the expression on his friend’s face.

Shortly thereafter, Joker helped Harley Quinn to the dock in a boathouse at the abandoned Gotham Pier Amusement Park. “I just lost a perfectly good hostage, and I don’t even have Don Wallace to show for it!” he fumed. “This morning was an utter and complete waste of time!” The Clown Prince of Crime began pacing.

“We all have each other . . . and we know my bazooka works,” Harley Quinn said consolingly.

“What?!” Joker asked, whirling to face her.

“You don’t really think Batgirl and the others survived that explosion, do ya?” Harley inquired.

Queenie, Jack O’Shea, and Spade looked uncertainly at their leader.

“Oh, probably!” Joker raged, pacing. “She’s survived everything else we’ve ever tried to do to her! Why should a blast from a bazooka be any different?!”

“So, do you want us to find this guy, Don Wallace, for you, boss?” Spade asked, helping Queenie from the boat.

“I know where he is,” Maria said, approaching the pier from the interior of the amusement park. “The money Joker gave me to spread among my contacts paid off. The Commissioner sent extra cops to a house in the suburbs after Joker called him this morning.”

“Did you confirm Wallace was there?” Joker asked, halting.

Maria smiled, holding up some snapshots. “If my informant is wrong–”

“I’ll kill him,” Joker said emotionlessly, reaching for the pictures and examining them. Suddenly, he became excited. “Although, such extreme measures may not be necessary! This picture of Don with the lovely lady cop makes this information look promising! Did you pay your informant?”

“Of course, Joker.” Maria answered. “Now, it’s possible the cops have since moved Mister Wallace, but if they did, we could always ‘talk’ to the lady cop about his whereabouts.”

“Good idea,” Joker said. “Who is this lady cop?”

“Her name is Diana Mooney,” Jack O’Shea said. “She’s the lieutenant who runs the cops every night and Catwoman can’t stand her.”

“If we’re going to ‘talk to her,’ we have to be able to find her,” Queenie pointed out.

“I know where she lives,” Spade said.

Joker burst out laughing happily.

“Well now,” Queenie observed, grinning. “Whether or not we ‘talk to’ this cop, I’ll bet the fun and games ahead will put the boss in a much better mood.”

“You know, Queenie,” Joker said, “you’re right. It isn’t that Don Wallace really bothers me. It’s that I have plans to get on with and we’re spending way too much time and energy chasing that rotten, little twerp! Unless we find him soon, I’m just going to step on him whenever I find him and that would be sad, because I want him to learn from our relationship.”

“Maria,” Harley Quinn began, “do you know where we can find this schmuck?”

“I think so,” the ex-barmaid replied.

“Good!” Joker declared. “Let’s go!” He led his criminal crew from the boathouse with a merry laugh and a jaunty spring in his step.

The ringing telephone awakened Police Lieutenant Diana Mooney. She moaned and rolled over before reaching for the phone when it rang again. “Hello,” she drowsily said.

“Hi, Diana,” the voice on the phone began. “It’s Batgirl again. I’m sorry to wake you–”

“What is it, Batgirl?” The Lieutenant was growing more alert and awake.

“I’m worried about Joker trying to find Don Wallace, the man I asked you to put in protective custody.”

“He’s at a safe house. Don’t worry. He’ll be fine.”

“I doubt Joker knows where the safe house is, but I’ll bet he knows you assigned Mister Wallace to it. That means he may try to get that information from you.”

Lieutenant Mooney was wide awake after a few seconds considering her friend’s words.

“Maybe you and I should bring Mister Wallace and his bullet-catchers some breakfast,” the lovely policewoman suggested. “Can you meet me at Mother Gotham’s Bakery in about twenty minutes?”

“Sure,” Batgirl replied.

“I’ll see your there. I’m tired of crooks attacking me."

Catwoman had come after the Lieutenant in order to obtain Batgirl’s phone number once, and on another occasion Mooney had been drugged and brought into the Feline Fiend’s service. In a separate incident, Catwoman’s favored henchwoman, Vixen, had placed the policewoman in jeopardy as part of a plan to capture Batgirl.

"Once we make sure Mister Wallace is okay, you and I can stake out my place and nail the Joker if he comes calling.”

“It sounds like we have a plan. I’ll see you at the bakery.”

Lieutenant Mooney was putting a large box of doughnuts in the trunk of her car when Batgirl arrived at Mother Gotham’s Bakery.

“Those smell good,” Batgirl observed wryly.

“They are,” Diana said with a smile. Then her mood turned serious. “Follow me.”

Batgirl nodded. The Lieutenant slid behind the wheel of her unmarked car and roared off with the Batgirlcycle following closely, but safely.

The two vehicles arrived at a house in the suburbs that looked deserted. Batgirl pulled up next to the driver’s side of the car as the policewoman rolled down her window. “Is anyone home?” the Dominoed Daredoll asked.

“We always park in the garage,” Lieutenant Mooney said. “Surrounding the place with squad cars would draw attention we don’t want.”

Batgirl nodded and pulled up to let the Lieutenant out of the unmarked car. The policewoman retrieved the doughnuts from the trunk, then led the way to the porch.

She set the box aside as she noticed the lock on the front door. “Strange. It looks like the lock is melted!”

Batgirl glanced at the damaged door. ‘I saw a lock destroyed like this last night at the bank!’ Batgirl thought. She looked at her friend and both voiced the obvious conclusion simultaneously.

“Joker!”

Lieutenant Mooney’s gun was in her hand as she prepared to enter the house. Batgirl gripped a Batarang and nodded. The front door burst open as the policewoman’s shoulder hit it. She aimed her gun along the empty hall and moved forward to let Batgirl follow. Just as the Lieutenant was about to enter the living room, both women heard a series of beeps sounding, stopping and softly repeating.

“Batgirl?” Diana Mooney hesitantly asked, her voice betraying trepidation.

“Don’t move, Diana,” Batgirl said. “Let me see what I can do about–”

“Hello, friend or friends, it’s the Joker and this is a recording,” the comical criminal’s voice said. A recorded laugh interrupted the introduction before the soft sequence of beeps continued.

“This is not good!” Lieutenant Mooney said.

Batgirl considered having the two of them run from the house immediately, but realized such an action might trigger the booby trap she now guessed the Joker had set. ‘He’s likely to give his game away,’ Batgirl thought.

She smiled, trying to encourage her friend as the criminal’s recorded voice continued, “Someone is now standing on a pressure pad – wired to an explosive – that will leave nothing but a tiny splotch of organic matter behind after it blows up."

Batgirl’s features hardened as her mind went on analyzing the trap the Joker had set. ‘I was right!’

“Since bombs are very dangerous,” Joker’s recorded voice said, “I left a few samples at each entrance to this house. You can see how effective my explosives can be simply by stepping from the pad. Oh, a vibration sensor will blow the other bombs when this one detonates. I have a reputation as a home-wrecker to which to live up, and once this home is wrecked, it will offer the authorities very little evidence!” The recording laughed again. “Finally, I’ve incorporated a five minute timer to keep the bomb squad from saving you. The detonation, when it comes, will not only terminate your employment, but will end your existence simultaneously. The countdown has already begun. Goodbye!”

Lieutenant Mooney remained still, staring. She could feel her muscles tense. “I’ll stay right here. You’ve got about four and a half minutes to disarm this bomb, Batgirl.”

“Well, I can’t get past you to reach the bomb and I’ll be in similar peril if I try to get into the house through another door,” Batgirl said, thinking aloud.

“You’re not telling me I’ve had it, are you?!”

“No!” Batgirl answered. “Can you see if Joker has the windows rigged with bombs? I’m hoping he set this house up to trap and kill only the police. If we’re lucky, he’ll have skipped the windows.”

Lieutenant Mooney peered into the living room and frowned. “I’m afraid our friendship is well known, Batgirl. He has the windowsill of the front bay rigged and I doubt even Flamebird would fit through any of the other windows.”

“Okay. I can’t touch the windowsill. Are the windows shatterproof?”

“I don’t think so.”

“It’s time to find out.” Batgirl walked along the porch and backed as far from the main window of the house as she could before pulling her cape over her head and charging forward. Her shoulder impacted the glass, which dissolved first into a spider web of cracks that collapsed to form thousands of tiny, razor sharp rivulets. Batgirl’s upraised arm, her cape, and her costume helped keep her intact as the raining glass threatened to cut her body to pieces.

A horrible thought struck her as she settled to the floor in a crouch beyond the booby-trapped window. ‘Will the shattered glass landing on the windowsill trigger the bomb?!’

Glancing back, Batgirl was relieved to see glass settle harmlessly among the explosives and detonators beneath the window. She exhaled a breath she did not realize she was holding.

“Hurry, Batgirl!” Lieutenant Mooney called as the heroine inhaled, charging to the rescue.

Batgirl halted in the hall and frowned at the pressure pad upon which her friend stood. “First, I have to find the bomb.”

“There,” Diana Mooney said, pointing at a group of thin wires on the floor.

Batgirl followed them and crouched beside a metal cube upon which lights blinked at rapid, regular intervals. “I found it,’ she superfluously announced. She decided not to lift the deadly cube, but examined it for a few seconds, quickly locating the timer marking the passing seconds with a rapidly descending countdown. Less than three minutes remained before the bomb would explode!

‘If I can get this open in time, I might be able to disarm it,' she thought. ‘If not . . . .’

She took a tool from her belt and quickly went to work on the housing encasing the bomb. A full minute passed before the panel atop the bomb pulled free and darkness yawned at Batgirl. Seconds later, her tiny Batlight stabbed the darkened bomb’s interior.

Joker buried the workings of the bomb beneath the timer. ‘Will the bomb detonate if I remove the mechanism above it?’ Batgirl took a deep breath and glanced at the clock. She had less than thirty seconds!

Carefully, Batgirl lifted the timer and turned it to see to what the trailing wires were attached. Fifteen seconds remained! ‘If I let go, wires will tear free and I don’t know what effect that will have!’

“Batgirl, get out of here!” Lieutenant Mooney screamed. The LED display read: 0:10

Batgirl ignored her friend. She reached for another tool from her belt and followed the wires running between the timer and the explosives with her eye. Five seconds remained!

Batgirl reached for the connection she had chosen with her tool. “No more time. Here goes,” she muttered.

The countdown stopped along with the corresponding, flashing light. Batgirl exhaled and filled her lungs again. “Diana?”

“That was darn foolish of you!” the police lieutenant yelled. “You didn’t know that would work! You could have been killed!!”

Silence hung in the air for a moment. “I know,” Batgirl softly said. “There wasn’t time for me to get out when you told me to go. So, I was committed to disarming the bomb.”

The Lieutenant took in some air and let it out slowly. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m happy to be alive right now.”

“I don’t hear beeping anymore,” Batgirl said. She turned to her friend and smiled. “You’re safe now. It’s good to hear your voice.”

A wide grin broke across the Lieutenant’s face. “It’s good to be able to be heard . . . and I should say a lot more! . . . but it’s hard to be mad at someone who just saved your life.”

Batgirl could hear her friend’s footsteps after Diana stepped from the deadly pressure pad. The steps stopped. “Thanks, Batgirl.”

“Anytime.” The friends hugged.

“Can you disarm the rest of the bombs while I call this in?” the Lieutenant asked, releasing her friend.

“If we find all of the bombs I can disarm them, but I’d investigate anything that may have happened here with extreme caution.”

“Right,” the Lieutenant agreed. “Good thinking. We know the Joker is behind the bombs. Is there anything else we know at this point?”

Batgirl pulled the spade-shaped explosive from the bomb housing. “Joker’s new henchmen seem to have helped with this job. Spade is one of them.”

Lieutenant Mooney snapped her fingers. “I see. The Joker and Harley Quinn broke Jack O’Shea, Spade, and Queenie out of jail. I wonder if all of them have deadly calling cards like this.”

“Probably,” Batgirl replied. “At the bank, I noticed Jack O’Shea was wearing a strange-looking monocle after he helped Joker break into the vault. I think he used it later to somehow touch off a fire and explosion. Queenie shot a knife from her wrist, and I know for a fact Harley Quinn has a bazooka.”

Diana Mooney shuddered. “A girl devoted to the Joker, armed with a bazooka!?”

“That's a happy thought, isn't it?” Batgirl looked closely at the policewoman. “Are you okay?”

“I’ll be fine. Right now, I’d better see if Don Wallace’s bullet-catchers are here while you disarm the rest of the Joker’s bombs.”

When Batgirl rejoined her friend, the Lieutenant was photographing two plainclothes policemen pinned to a wall with sharp knives. They had both been gagged with short lengths of duct tape.

“It looks like the Joker brought Queenie, too,” Lieutenant Mooney said.

Batgirl looked sympathetically at the two men. “Do you have the evidence you need?”

“Yes,” the policewoman replied. The women moved forward, tore the tape from the captives’ mouths and pulled the knives from the wall, releasing them.

“The Joker got Don Wallace,” the first man said as Batgirl caught him and lowered him gently into a sitting position. “I’m sorry.”

“He said he would be having a good time with Don while we stayed here to die,” the second policeman said as Mooney gently lowered him.

“The Joker’s nuts,” Lieutenant Mooney said. “I shudder to think about his idea of a good time where another human being in concerned.”

“I tend to agree, Diana, but sometimes, when he is boasting, Joker exhibits a kind of twisted honesty. Did he use the words, ’having a good time,’ specifically?”

“Yes, he did,” the first man said.

“We figured he was talking about torturing the poor guy,” the second man said.

“Probably,” Diana Mooney agreed, standing once again.

Batgirl straightened and began deliberately pacing. After a few turns, she whirled and snapped her fingers. “Joker has only one known hideout offering both a chance to ‘have a good time’ and access from the water!”

“How do you know the Joker needs access to water?”

“He tried to exchange the Warden for Don Wallace this morning and escaped in a boat.”

“I’m with you!” Lieutenant Mooney enthused. “The Joker has to be hiding out at the abandoned Gotham Pier Amusement Park! Let’s go get him!” She turned to the two policemen. “The Chief will be here momentarily with the bomb squad.”

“Diana, I agree these men are safe enough – and I’d be happy to have you along when I go after Joker – but are you sure? I can manage.”

“First, the Joker just tried to kill me. Second, you and the Joker have a history that makes me want to make sure you arrest him, instead of breaking him into tiny pieces.” The Lieutenant held up her hand. “For your protection, not his."

Her friend’s words made Batgirl recall how she had once chased the Joker into an alley and avoided two attacks against her before beginning what she had planned to be the villain’s brutal demolition. At the time, she had argued out the moral problems with executing his physical destruction before deciding to proceed. Batwoman had arrived and made her question her actions once Joker had been rendered essentially helpless. The Curved Crusader had been grateful almost immediately, but she occasionally recalled the pleasure the Joker’s helplessness had given her, when both of them knew he would never be able to stop her from making him suffer according to her torturous whim.

Batgirl’s brief remembrance made her smile as Lieutenant Mooney concluded, “Finally, I got more quality sleep than you did last night.”

“All right,” Batgirl said. “Let’s go get the Joker!”

“. . . and his friends!” Diana added.

Batgirl nodded.

Meanwhile, on the midway at the Gotham Pier Amusement Park, Don Wallace shook his aching head and tried to reach up and rub the swelling lump that marked where a blunt object had impacted the back of his skull. He found he could not move his hands and realized his wrists were tightly tied to his bound ankles beneath him. He had been perched on a seat above a circular pool, from which Spade and Jack O’Shea climbed.

“He’s all set, boss, almost finished” the crooked gossip columnist said once he and his companion had reached their employer’s position, well beyond the range of liquid that might splash from the tank.

“Well, he will be once Queenie fills the pool,” Spade concurred.

“Oh, you’re quite right, boys,” Joker enthused, chuckling. “Go ahead, Queenie.”

“No problem, Joker,” his older, blonde henchwoman said, smiling. She strutted from his side to a circular valve and turned it, allowing a greenish liquid to spill into the pool. Queenie wrinkled her nose as green vapor began rising from the pool. “What is that stuff?”

“Oh, it’s a lethal blend of my favorite acids, carefully combined to consume human flesh in a matter of minutes without exploding,” Joker explained.

“It’s noxious,” Queenie complained.

“Yes,” Joker agreed nodding vigorously and smiling. “The vapors rising from it are eventually just as lethal, but thankfully function at a comparatively glacial pace.” Queenie moved far back from the edge of the pool while Joker laughed. “I think, though, Harley will drop Donny into the lethal drink by throwing those balls at that target and get this show on the road in rapid order!” He went on laughing uproariously as he pointed out the missiles and their target.

“I have to wait for the dunk tank to fill with acid first,” Harley Quinn complained.

“Why are you doing this to me?” Don Wallace asked.

“Gee,” Maria began, detaching herself from the nearby post against which she had been decoratively leaning and impassively watching the murderous preparations. She stepped forward, grinning wickedly as her detachment transformed into interested, gleeful anticipation. “Do you think it’s possible you’re about to be dunked in toxic acid because you’re an incredible pain in the–”

“You see, Donny,” Joker interrupted, “Maria and I have both made extensive arrangements for you, which would have resulted in–”

“You’re trying to kill me, you sick freak—like she did!” Don Wallace shouted, indicating Maria and interrupting in turn.

The Joker cleared his throat. His voice was almost casual as he asked, “Harley, why don’t you take a couple warm-up tosses?”

“Sure thing, Mister J,” his most colorful moll enthusiastically agreed. “Do you want me to retire to the bull pen?”

“I wouldn’t bother,” Joker advised. “You’d just get lonely and I think we’d all have a lot more fun if you stayed right here.”

“Okay,” she cheerfully replied, tossing a ball in the air and catching it before hurling it at the target that would drop the captive into the vat of bubbling death. The projectile narrowly missed the target, but made an audible thump on the material hanging behind it. The girl’s second missile did likewise. “Okay, I think I’ve got the range now.” Harley Quinn picked up a third ball.

“Hold on, baby,” Joker said, holding up a hand. When the Joker continued, his voice held a low, deadly quality that chilled Don Wallace to the bone. “To be fair, I suppose we could explain the facts of criminal life in Gotham City to Donny. It’s pretty simple, after all. I’m the Joker, the Clown Prince of Crime, and Gotham City is my town. That means, I’ve chosen to operate here and occasionally offer the privilege of employment to a few fellow rogues. When these tremendous opportunities present themselves, the last thing I need is some self-righteous nobody – like you – telling prospective employees I’m just hiring a bunch of punching bags for Batman!” The Joker’s voice had risen steadily as his rant continued until he was shouting and thrusting an inquisitorial finger at his captive repeatedly for emphasis. “Anyone stupid enough to say such a thing naturally makes me mad. That is to say, I’m irate or angry with you—very very angry with you!”

“Joker, I–”

“Shut up! I haven’t finished! Not only do you suggest my help is there only for Batman to manhandle, in a public place heavily populated with criminals, you let Batgirl buy you a drink!”

“After . . . what . . . Harley . . . did . . . to . . . me–”

“Did I not just tell you to shut up?!” Joker demanded. “You’re observations about my reasons for hiring people are embarrassing enough! You started drinking on Batgirl’s dime before leaving the bar with her! There’s no telling what might have happened without Harley’s intervention. She caught Batgirl at your place!”

“I think you have the wrong idea,” Don Wallace protested.

“Let’s move on before I become physically ill,” Joker quietly decided. “You’ve shown me no respect whatsoever since I’ve became aware of your existence, and I really can’t tell you how much I’m looking forward to watching you dissolve!” Joker stopped yelling and silence fell over the abandoned amusement park. “Go ahead and kill him, Harley.”

“Okay, Puddin’,” the curvy clown happily agreed.

“This is crazy,” Don Wallace fearfully said.

Harley Quinn raised her third ball and reached back to fling it at the target. She paused and warned, “Stand back. Donny is about to make a big, fatal splash!” Spade, Queenie, Maria, the Joker, and Jack O’Shea retreated further.

“No! Please don’t!” Don Wallace screamed. “Help me!”

The Joker burst out laughing.

The ball flew straight at the target. It would have hit its mark hard enough to drop the captive into Joker’s sinister soup . . . had the target not unexpectedly fallen to the ground a split second before the ball arrived.

“Hey!” Harley Quinn cried in dismay. “No fair!”

Don Wallace could only bow his head as his lungs emptied and the relief, naturally accompanying the knowledge he was still alive, washed over him.

Joker looked around uncertainly until he realized Queenie, Maria, Spade, and Jack O’Shea were all staring in the same direction. “What happened?!” he demanded.

“She happened,” Maria said, raising a hand to point.

“Who happened?” Joker queried.

"Her,” Queenie answered, pointing in the same direction as Maria.

“Batgirl,” the awestruck henchmen said.

“That’s right, Joker. I’ve caught you red-handed again—this time at attempted murder!” the Curved Crusader said, catching the sharp-edged Batarang that had severed the dunk tank release mechanism.

“Batgirl,” the Joker said resignedly. “I should have guessed, but I saw Harley blast you to Kingdom Come!”

“I guess you’re seeing things, Joker,” Batgirl sweetly said. “Now, you should all come with me–right now!”

Joker laughed and regained his composure. The humor was gone from his low, menacing voice as he addressed the newcomer. “I really don’t think that’s such a good idea,” he confided. “You see, despite the little setback you’ve caused, Harley will drop Donny into my acid bath . . . unless you surrender to me—right now!”

In the silence that followed, as the Dark Angel of Gotham and the Green-haired Gargoyle stared at one another, everyone could clearly hear the hammer of a gun being pulled back. “Do it and you’re dead, Doctor!” Lieutenant Diana Mooney warned, addressing the group from her ready position in a two-handed shooting stance.

“Oh-kay,” Joker said. “Batgirl brought some beautiful backup. I guess everyone knew I had a potential hostage.” He paused in his analysis to laugh maniacally. “Since the lady cop is busy keeping Harley from dunking Donny, the rest of us should be free to repel our recently-arrived rodent. Come on, boys! Let’s get Batgirl!”

The white-faced wise-cracker led Spade and Jack O’Shea in a charge toward Batgirl.

She sidestepped and whirled to bring her boot heel down on the back of Spade’s neck. The thug fell into the Joker’s path, causing the colorful criminal to trip as he tried vainly to check his speed. One of the Curved Crusader’s showgirl high-kicks caught Joker in the face, stunning him.

The sounds of a hail of gunshots and shattering glass distracted Jack O’Shea as Batgirl moved toward him. He recovered in a heartbeat and seized her fist, spinning and sending her sprawling.

“Girls, help the boys with their work!” Harley Quinn commanded, pointing at Batgirl, who was recovering after colliding with a narrow, steel girder.

“Don’t you move, Doctor,” Lieutenant Mooney warned. “I’ve still got you covered.”

Harley Quinn stepped back from a green puddle spreading from the shattered dunk tank. “I think you just emptied your gun saving Donny from dissolvin’ completely in this acid.”

“Oh? Do you know how many rounds a M9 pistol holds? How many shots did you count? Fifteen? Sixteen? Seventeen?” the Lieutenant asked, carefully steadying her aim.

The curvaceous clown hesitated. Lieutenant Mooney moved closer.

“Ya’ know,” Harley began, “I really don’t care. I’m unarmed. I don’t think you’re goin’ to blast me.” Harley now began to approach the woman who had been staring her down.

“Don’t be so sure, clown! I’ll have to write a report, but if you resist arrest . . . .”

Harley stopped some ten feet from the policewoman. Then she slowly advanced. “I’ll take my chances.”

Diana Mooney swore. The single expletive inspired the henchwoman, who charged, extending her arms and shoving the policewoman to the ground as they collided, tumbling together head over heels.

Queenie and Maria, glanced at Harley Quinn as they approached Batgirl warily. Both shrugged.

Batgirl was facing Jack O’Shea, who had approached her warily and was fighting her defensively. Batgirl pressed her attack, trying to end the confrontation before Joker and Spade rejoined it. She delivered a stunning combination and was about to dispatch the gossip columnist when two pairs of hands gripped her shoulders, pulled her suddenly backwards, and held her firmly in place.

‘Maria and Queenie just grabbed me!’ Batgirl realized.

Jack O’Shea smiled as Batgirl vainly struggled in the women’s combined grasp. He fired a body blow into her breadbasket and followed up instantly with another.

“I’m going to enjoy paying you back for our encounter at the bank — with lots of interest,” Jack O’Shea said, grinning wickedly as he went on pummeling Batgirl.

“Does that hurt?’ Queenie asked, feigning concern.

“When he’s finished softening you up,’ Maria began, “we’ll take good care of whatever may be left of you.” She laughed.

Batgirl frowned and sagged in the women’s grasp. Jack O’Shea smiled wolfishly and stepped forward, pressing his advantage and intending to put Batgirl out of action. Instead of doing so, he collided with a pair of purple boot heels. He seemed to pause, before simply collapsing at Maria and Queenie’s feet.

Batgirl was naturally not content with having dispatched Jack O’Shea. She continued her acrobatic maneuver, flipping over and landing behind the henchwomen. Her next ploy was to wrap her arms around Maria and Queenie’s heads and slam them authoritatively together.

As Batgirl’s latest victims joined Jack O’Shea on the ground, Diana Mooney moved toward her, breathing heavily. “What happened to Harley?” Batgirl asked.

“I gave her skull a love tap with my gun butt,” Diana Mooney explained. “Look out! Here come Joker and Spade!”

Batgirl instinctively leaped into the air and snapped her leg into the direction of Joker. The attack caught him in the chin and dropped him to the ground.

As Batgirl recovered, Diana Mooney slid toward Spade and shot a foot into his gut. The thug doubled over and the policewoman shoved him face-first to the ground. She followed up by slamming his face into the ground with her heel.

“Nice going,” Batgirl complimented.

“Nice going yourself,” the Lieutenant replied. The policewoman and the caped heroine shook hands. “It looks like it’s time to take this bunch of comedians in. Do you have your Batcuffs?”

“Right here,“ Batgirl replied, taking a pair from her utility belt as her friend produced handcuffs of her own.

“Not so fast, B-girl,” Harley Quinn said, appearing and holding a nozzle with a hose trailing behind it. “Mister J said to take care of you and Jane Law. So, that’s what I aim to do. After all, what my Puddin’ wants is what he gets, as far as I’m concerned!”

“You can consider yourself under arrest, Doctor,” Lieutenant Mooney said.

“Why do you keep callin' me ‘Doctor?’” Harley Quinn demanded.

“You’re Doctor Harleen Quinzel, and you work for Warden Crichton at Gotham State Penitentiary,” the Lieutenant explained. “Five years ago, the Joker drugged you and you began to call yourself Harley Quinn while you worked with him. We’d like to help you, Doctor. I’m no expert, but you seem to be suffering from some kind of relapse.”

“You think?” the clownish henchwoman asked, putting her free hand on one hip and cocking her head to one side as though considering what she was being told. “I don’t know. I’m bipolar, like most of my family. I can normally keep my natural manic/depressiveness in check, but being with Joker lets me be manic all the time. It’s absolutely cathartic, and puts my mind in balance. You see, unless my superego is weakened through external stimuli, it remains out of balance with my id.”

“What external stimuli?” Lieutenant Mooney inquired.

“I don’t think we really want to know, if they come from the Joker,” Batgirl advised.

“You may be right,” the policewoman admitted.

“My personal relationships and ‘medical situation’ are none of your #@(*)^ business! After I take care of you both, our issues will be forever resolved. Oh, I only shared with you, copper, because I know how healthy dialogue can be. Now, take this!” Harley Quinn, who had seemed to be an angry patient and a calm lecturer in consecutive instants, again transformed herself, affecting the mood of a triumphant conqueror.

Before Lieutenant Mooney or Batgirl could get out of the way, purple goo spewed from the hose the devilish doctor held and drenched them both. The force of the pressurized liquid knocked them both off of their feet.

The henchwoman’s victims raised their hands defensively. Their efforts to keep the spray away, however, were utterly useless.

“I’m stuck!” Lieutenant Mooney complained, thrashing as she vainly tried to stand.

“So am I! This stuff is sticky, whatever it is,” Batgirl agreed, her body writing prettily as her limbs and cape adhered to the purple puddle.

The Lieutenant instinctively licked a splotch of the goop on her chin. “It tastes . . . fruity . . . like . . . jelly.”

Batgirl did likewise. “I bet it’s diluted Joker Jelly,” Batgirl grimly remarked. “We won’t be going anywhere until it dries.”

“The Doctor, or rather Harley Quinn, should have been out cold after I hit her,” the Lieutenant complained. “Instead she’s rendered us helpless!”

“I’m afraid she’s just getting started,” Batgirl softly said. “Here she comes again." Neither crimefighter was capable of preventing Harley from bending over them and unfastening their belt buckles.

“I’ll just keep these as mementos,” the curvy clown girl decided aloud, straightening with Batgirl’s utility belt and the Lieutenant’s gun belt in her hands. “You know, you implied you think I’m drugged or sick. In a way, you’re right. The fact is, what I’m really sick of is both of you!” Harley pulled Lieutenant Mooney’s gun from its holster. “Also, I have a much better idea of how to use this than you do.” Harley laughed and felt her fingers curl lovingly around the butt of the weapon.

“Doctor, don’t,” Diana Mooney cried. “Put it down!”

“Hey! You threatened me with it first.” Harley grinned. “I’ll bet you never thought I’d figure blowin' you away was such a good idea.”

“Harley, please don’t!” Batgirl earnestly pleaded.

“I’m sure Mister J has other plans for you, B-girl,” Harley responded. “I’ve decided to pay Jane Law in kind for pullin' this on me. Now, since there’s nothin' in the world either of you, or anyone else, can do about it, it’s time to say goodbye to your friend, the lady cop!” Harley carefully aimed the weapon at the policewoman and pulled the trigger.

CLICK!

Batgirl exhaled a breath she had not realized she was holding. ‘Diana did empty her gun shattering the acid-filled dunk tank and she never took the time to reload it!’ Batgirl thought.

Harley swore, frowning as she tossed the gun in the air and caught it by the barrel. “Well, whaddyaknow? You were out of bullets!” She glared at the policewoman. “If you hadn’t been, I bet you would have shot me!”

Harley took a deep breath. “Aw, the heck with it,” she muttered. The clownish henchwoman bent over her victims, brandishing her captured bludgeon. Smiling, she deliberately slammed the gun butt into the side of Lieutenant Mooney’s head. The policewoman succumbed to unconsciousness. After a second, equally vicious blow, Batgirl’s body went limp as well.

Later, Batgirl moaned as her eyes fluttered open. “My head,” she muttered and gasped as pain exploded from the point where Harley had hit her with a gun butt. As the pain ebbed, she reviewed the events leading to what had obviously been her capture. ‘Harley Quinn tried to shoot Diana!’ she recalled. “Diana!”

A groan answered Batgirl’s worried reaction to the memory. The soft sound drew the heroine’s attention to where the Lieutenant lay squirming in her jelly-stained uniform, with her arms drawn behind her back and Batcuffs restraining her wrists.

Batgirl’s own arms were similarly positioned. Her fingers found a short chain stretched between a pair of metal bracelets clasped around her wrists. ‘I’ll bet my cuffs are police issue,’ Batgirl thought. ‘Joker wouldn’t want either of us to produce keys and simply free ourselves. My keys are in my missing belt and I’ll bet Diana’s were taken when Joker ‘borrowed’ her handcuffs. Where are we anyway?’

A casual, sweeping glance revealed the captives had been enclosed in a glass booth located in another part of the midway at the abandoned Gotham Pier Amusement Park. Turning, Batgirl discovered four valves rising from the floor of the booth in which she and the Lieutenant had been encased.

“Oh, not again,” Diana Mooney said. “Harley clobbered me and Joker is going to try to kill me!”

“Us,” Batgirl said. “Our impending doom aside, how do you feel?”

“I feel lousy.” The policewoman looked at her friend and smiled. “Don’t take this the wrong way, Batgirl, but I’m glad you’re here.”

“I am, too, in a way,” the heroine confessed. “I think we’d have a much better time almost anywhere else, though.”

“Do you know what’s going on?” the Lieutenant asked.

“Not yet,” Batgirl replied. “If I know Joker – and I wish I didn’t – he’ll be here momentarily to tell us about our fate. Let’s stand up before he arrives. The Joker may threaten our lives, but our dignity must remain intact at all costs.”

“Sounds good to me!” the Lieutenant heartily agreed.

Both women bent their legs and got their feet beneath them. Leaning against the glass chamber’s walls, they straightened and stepped toward the center of their prison. Lieutenant Mooney’s breath seemed a little short as she asked, “We’ll be fine, right? Catwoman didn’t fling us to death from her catapult, after all.”

“It was a trebuchet, but you’re right. We survived the one-way maiden flight she arranged for us.”

“Know it all,” Diana Mooney accused, grinning at Batgirl. “Catwoman also failed to turn us into breeding stock for those giant bugs in Death Valley. Riddler didn’t kill us either and he tried to drown us in boiling water at one point and to show us each a fatal, hot time after melting his stolen gold.”

“You’re right,” Batgirl agreed, grinning in response. "Siren’s Christmas present to us, a suffocating amount of tinsel, didn’t kill us either.”

“Hey!” the policewoman exclaimed. “Is this booth made of just glass? We could be out of here before Joker even gets back.”

“Wait a minute, Diana!” Batgirl urged, but her warning was too late. The policewoman flung herself against one side of the chamber, grimacing as pain numbed her shoulder and arm.

Maniacal laugher heralded the Clown Prince of Crime’s arrival while drowning the painful gasp the Lieutenant made as she retreated to the center of the booth. Seconds later, the Joker appeared with Harley Quinn on his arm and Spade, Jack O’Shea, Queenie, and Maria in his wake. His assistants all wheeled huge metal tanks on dollies ahead of them. The criminal couple stood regarding the captives as the others stationed themselves at the corners of the glass chamber.

“Good afternoon, ladies! I’m very sorry to have to report your prison is composed of glass having both bulletproof and shatterproof properties,” he revealed. “Well, I’m not really sorry, and besides, you seem to have discovered that fact on your own already!” His evil entourage joined in his laughter as he released Harley Quinn and admired his pretty prisoners. “I must tell you, you both look utterly delicious in there, all covered with my Joker jelly, and without your toys, you’ll remain my guests for the rest of your natural lives. Oh, your approaching doom reminds me – before the end, you’ll find the chamber utterly Bat-proof as well!” As he laughed again, the criminal clown held up the belts Harley Quinn had taken from his prisoners.

“So, Joker,” Batgirl began, cutting off the criminal’s cacophonic crescendo, “what’s your sick game this time?”

“I call it murder, Batgirl, and we’ll be playing for keeps,” Joker confirmed. “Since Harley already shared my special sandwich spread with you both, I thought I’d add you to one of the most popular recipes to be found at amusement parks everywhere.” He spread his arms and spun, laughing uproariously.

“Thank you for confessing in advance,” Batgirl said.

“You have to catch Mister J before his confession will do you any good, and neither of you will be around after he’s finished with you!” Harley Quinn pointed out. “Right, Puddin’?”

“Oh, indeed they will not, my dear. I’ve a delicious and deadly surprise in store for both of them.” He turned from his companion to his captives. “That chamber will soon become your sepulcher, but very, very slowly!” Joker enthused as his laughter grew low and menacing. Suddenly, he began to wave his arms wildly. “Quickly, boys and girls, hook up the tanks!”

Spade, Jack O’Shea, Queenie, and Harley Quinn stretched hoses between the valves Batgirl had discovered on the chamber floor and the newly arrived tanks and secured both ends tightly. Joker laughed and Maria watched as a wicked smile illuminated her pretty face.

“I’m getting a bad taste in my mouth, listening to you, Joker,” the Lieutenant said gravely.

“Who is this cop, Harley?” Joker asked. “We’ll need her name for the tombstone.”

“It’s Mooney, Diana Mooney,” the Lieutenant answered before Harley could speak. “Get used to it, because you’ll be hearing a lot of it when I testify against you for attempted murder!”

“Well, Ms. Mooney, I must tell you, I’m starting to dislike you as much as I dislike Batgirl. So it’s just as well you’re both about to die.”

“You’ve tried to kill me so many times in the past, Joker,” Batgirl sweetly said.

“Indeed I have,” the Pale-faced Prankster agreed, nodding. “Permit me to elaborate upon the arrangements I’ve made for you this time. In just a few moments, I’ll have the contents of those tanks introduced first into the hoses my associates have just hooked up and ultimately into the chamber in which you two find yourselves. We’ve already discussed its unique properties, of course.” He paused to laugh uproariously. “Obviously, as the tanks are emptied, that chamber – your tomb – will be completely filled. Inch by inch, your bodies will be covered and enclosed. Then, isolated from the outside atmosphere, you’ll be utterly asphyxiated. Finally, your tomb will harden into a gigantic brick the police will discover and chip your beautiful bodies out of—eventually.”

“You’ll never get away with this, Joker,” Batgirl predicted.

“I can’t imagine how either of you will stop me. After all, this procedure will be leaving you breathless before it preserves your mortal remains forever.” He laughed, bending and convulsing helplessly.

“Let Diana go, Joker,” Batgirl urged. “You have me!”

“Oh, you’re so noble, Batgirl, but I was just saying how much I dislike this pulchritudinous policewoman. She’ll be staying right where she is!”

“What about Don Wallace?” Lieutenant Mooney asked.

“Who?” Joker asked.

“I think they mean the guy who avoided the acid bath we planned,” Harley Quinn explained.

“Oh. Him,” Joker responded. “We have a nice, comfy, coffin waiting for him in the funhouse. It’s airtight and we’ll be laying him to rest in it as soon as we dispose of the two of you!” Joker glanced at the watch on his wrist. “Time is getting so short.”

“Why are you worried about the time, Joker?” Maria asked.

“Because these two found us,” Joker explained. “Unless we arrange for any pursuers to find some nice bodies, there’s no telling what nefarious schemes of ours might be interrupted. I’m not feeling at all charitable, particularly where the police are concerned. Would you care to do the honors?”

“Well,” Maria thoughtfully began, “Batgirl and this cop did shut down my bar. Tell me, what exactly are we entombing these two in?”

“Oh, I neglected to mention with which amusement park snack I’d decided to encase my enemies,” Joker said, feigning shock. “Those tanks are filled with . . . cotton candy! Open them up, gang!”

Joker’s crew opened the tanks of deadly candy as Joker grinned and pointed out a switch. “That lever will open the valves in our prisoners’ death chamber and send them on their way to oblivion. Go ahead and throw it!”

“With pleasure,” Maria said, moving to the switch with practiced grace and reaching up to curl her fingers around it lovingly. “Sweet dreams, girls. Goodbye!” Maria decisively threw the switch.

A compressor began pumping cotton candy into the chamber where it formed a pink puddle around the Joker’s victims’ feet.

“They’re done for!” Joker cried over the sound of the pump. “The most delicious demise I’ve ever cooked up for Batgirl has begun!” He laughed yet again, waving delightedly at his victims before leading his gang away and motioning excitedly for them to follow. “Let’s go!”

Maria followed immediately, glancing over her shoulder to favor the captives with a satisfied smirk. Harley Quinn and Queenie touched fingertips to their lips simultaneously and blew parting kisses before turning to follow Joker and Maria.

“Bon appetite, ladies,” Queenie said, before moving off.

“Maybe you can try eating – or is that drinking? – your way out!” Harley Quinn happily cried before departing herself. “So long, suckers!”

Batgirl and the policewoman stared at one another with horror. A fluffy, pink blob formed around their feet and spread over the floor of the chamber.

Spade and Jack O’Shea lingered briefly to enjoy the view as the henchwomen departed, before regarding Joker’s victims with looks that somehow combine wistfulness and delight. “You ladies both look like you kept yourselves in pretty good shape.” Spade said, grinning wolfishly and laughing. “I guess your good looks will be posthumously preserved.”

“It’s too bad no one else will ever get to enjoy the impressive view,” Jack O’Shea lamented. “I’d say things aren’t shaping up well for either of you—not at all. May I quote your last words?”

Batgirl said nothing. What Lieutenant Mooney told him could not be quoted in a family-oriented gossip column.

“You know,” Spade said, “any other time, I’d take her up on that suggestion.”

Jack O’Shea laughed. “Who wouldn’t? Come on. Let’s get out of here.” Joker’s henchmen took their leave.

“Well, Batgirl,” Lieutenant Mooney shouted, “I don’t suppose you have any idea yet of how to get us out of here?!”

“I’m thinking, Diana!” Batgirl loudly replied. “Believe me!”

Cotton candy continued filling in the chamber around the shackled captives’ ankles as the pump continued functioning inexorably and loudly.

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