The Joker had come back from escaping Batman.. His eye visibly twitched with unbridled irritation at the sight of the labeled cinnamon buns..

“You know what pisses me off? When I come home, to MY HIDEOUT, and I look on the counter and I see cinnamon buns that Harley made last night with a note saying “DON’T EAT”. ARE YOU KIDDING ME?? WHY CAN’T I EAT THEM?! This is MY hideout, this is MY KITCHEN COUNTER, these are MY cinnamon buns, that’s MY saran wrap Harley used to cover the cinnamon buns-, that’s MY sticky note that Harley used to make the note, that’s MY PEN that Harley used to write “DON’T EAT”. IT GETS BETTER! I open the fridge, they all have their names on different foods! “This is Ivy’s”, “This is Bane’s”, “Joker, do not eat this”.. WHAT AM I, AN ANIMAL?! This is MY HIDEOUT! I can eat whatever I want!- anything under this roof is- IS MINE! You got that? When you motherfuckers get your own hideouts, I’m gonna come to your hideouts and I’m gonna eat EVERYTHING IN SIGHT and put little sticky notes reading “Look what Joker ate!” AHAHAHAHAHA!”

He was losing it..