New Jersey; Gotham, a unspecified nightclub, 12:34 am— really late huh? Not for Harley and the Jokester though.

The nights just begun for the two.

Joker finished him off with a “smack” from his handy dandy walking cane— it’s for style, for sure. Knocking the man down onto the ground— he found this to be a good time for a little lesson in humility, he planted his foot onto the guy’s chest, pressing his heel against their chest.

“You fought like a girl,” Joker remarked, more like mocked, through his wide smile; a laugh escaping his teeth, his narrowed eyes eased into a smug glare, he straightened his standing position a lil’, only leaning over slightly, looking down on the chump he fought— literally looking DOWN at him.

Harley stood there behind him..jaw-agape; stunned, her Mister J...kicking butt, in DRAG— enough to make a girl “swoon”, or at least her, but enough to make anyone laugh a bit before possibly getting brutally decimated. But the real thing that should be said here is; why is he in drag?? Not like there’s anything wrong with it, he totally is killing it— but the JOKER doing this was..strange, but it is Joker after all.

“..Mistah J, puddin’?” She spoke, interrupting this..lil’ fight; tilting her head to the side remotely, her gloved hands clasped together, lightly pressed against her chest, as her blue eyes scanning over him, observantly. She seemed ignore the pained groans from the man Joker fought.