1972 was the year of no return for Gotham City. The streets were overrun with criminals, plunging the massive metropolis into chaos, despite the super heroic efforts of Batman, Batgirl, and Robin. Penguin and Poison Ivy wreaked all kinds of havoc, while Two-Face and Doctor Freeze put the "chill" on the GPD. Mayor Linseed was just as bad as the Falcone mafia cronies who lined his pockets with bribes, but that charismatic politician was good at selling lies.
Linseed launched a clever smoke-and-mirrors PR campaign to divert attention from his failing policies and win a third term. He broke ground on a Jazz Hall of Fame and an observation tower that would be twice as high as the Space Needle in Seattle. He also negotiated with the Smithsonian in DC to loan the Hope Diamond to the Gotham Museum. The most famous hunk of carbon in the world, worth nearly $300 million.
"A big shining symbol of hope, inspiring Gothamites toward a golden age of peace and prosperity!" Mayor Linseed proclaimed at the unveiling "Diamond Gala," surrounded by hot blondes, smokin' redheads, and corporate creeps. Billionaire playboy Bruce Wayne shook his hand and smiled for the cameras; rolling in dough from Linseed's exclusive municipal infrastructure contracts with Wayne Enterprises.
A few hours later, the Clown Prince of Crime pulled an ace out of his sleeve. Joker approached the closed museum entrance with a gang of six cronies. His trademark green hair clashed with his white makeup and creepy red lipstick. The rest of his outfit was comically killer: a sharp purple suit, a lime-green button-down shirt and purple pinstripe Al Capone pants. His henchmen wore medieval court jester outfits, like a warped version of the Droogs from
A Clockwork Orange
. Gaggy, Jonny Frost, Jackanapes, Bozo and Bud looked classically ridiculous.
One hot woman tagged along: Joker's ditzy but dangerous lover Harley Quinn. Mysteriously beautiful in white makeup with a black masquerade ball visage around her eyes. A tight red-and-black medieval harlequin outfit hugged her 34/24/35 body. Ringing the little silver bells that dangled from her head as she pranced along. Gaggy cut the phone lines while Jackanapes cut a wire that led to the external alarm bells.
"Come on, Harley-boo," Joker waved toward his raven-haired lover. "Shake your slutty money-maker for a good diversion,"
"Anything for
you
, Mister J," Harley beamed, planting a kiss on Joker's lips. She went up to the main entrance of the museum and banged on the glass doors while Joker and the gang lurked behind a cluster of cypress trees. A bunch of night guards marveled at Harley's enchanting Arthurian beauty, and unlocked a door for her. She only joined Joker's gang a few days ago, so they didn't recognize her as an evil conniving bitch.
"Can I help you, Miss?"
"Yeah. I was walking toward a costume party at Club Chameleon, but I got lost. Can you tell me how to get there?"
"Sure thing, sweetheart. Just go five blocks down Luthor Boulevard, then swing left on Kent Lane for two more blocks, and turn right on Olson Drive. There's a big neon chameleon in front."
"Thanks. Hey, you're really cute," Harley uttered seductively and deviously. "There's something
else
you can help me with."
"Yeah, what's that?"
She pulled up her red-and-black top, revealing an incredible pair of tits.
"Holy shit!" the guard exclaimed with a big smile.
"Fuck the costume party. Let's have our own little 'ball' right here."
"Damn, clown-girl. You're hot
and
crazy," another guard chuckled.
"And I love men in uniform. Wanna see the rest of me?"
"Hell yeah, baby. Get your leathery ass in here."
The guards led her into the lobby, with their dicks hijacking their brains. Carelessly leaving the entrance unlocked. They lined up in front of her under a hanging red metal Calder sculpture.
"Show me yours first, fellas," Harley giggled, glancing over at the entrance. The insane clown posse came out of the trees with gas masks on.
"Fair enough," the tallest guard snickered.
Those five fit guys whipped their hard dicks out of their pants, making Harley giggle louder.
"I'd love to see a painting of
those
by Picasso."
"Fuck Picasso. Get naked, and get our cocks in your dirty harlequin mouth."
"Public sex in an art gallery? That's a real 'classical gas!'"
Joker and his henchmen burst through the unlocked door in gas masks, pointing gas guns at the guards.
"What the
hell
?" they shrieked in unison. Harley pulled out her own gas mask and strapped it on her ghostly white face.
"That's a very good question," Joker beamed comically behind them. His shrill voice was oddly filtered through the mask. "What
is
hell? Well, you don't have to be a bible-thumping nut to know the answer. Hell is a place called Gotham, where clowns with no makeup run the City Hall circus, and minimum-wage losers like you scoop up the elephant shit."
POOF! HISS! WOOSH!
The guns blasted out a yellowish vapor, filling their lungs with a hefty dose of nitrous oxide, commonly known as "laughing gas." Those dim-witted police academy rejects collapsed onto the marble floor, laughing like a bunch of hyenas.
"What's so funny, fellas?" Joker asked wryly. "A dirty joke? I'm no prude, so let me in on it."
"Ha-ha, oh my, a-ha-hooo! You're a bad motherfucker, a-ha-ha, Mister Joker!"
"Damn right. I've grown to love that moniker, but my real name is Arthur Fleck."
"A-ha-
haaa
! Fuck you, Fleck!"
He kicked that guard right in the balls, but the anesthetic effect of the gas blocked the pain.
"Hell yeah, Mister J. Let's bust some piggy nuts!" Harley cheered. They kicked the rest of the guards in the family jewels, but they kept right on laughing. Inspired by the dystopian "ultra-violence" of Kubrick's Clockwork Orange. The only thing missing was Beethoven's ninth symphony.
BOFF! BONK! URKKK! ZLONK!
"
I'm singin' in the rain, just singin' in the rain
," Joker sang like Gene Kelly, whacking a guard in the face with his ivory cane.
"
What a glorious feeling, I'm happy again!
" Harley Quinn sang like Debbie Reynolds, kicking another guard right in the mouth.
"Not even the Ludovico Technique could cure us!" Joker cackled.
BAM! BIFF! KAPOW! KER-PLOP!
"That's enough, boys. Tie 'em up and hang 'em like mink stoles," Harley ordered.
"Yes, ma'am," the henchmen grunted.
"I love your crazy ass, Miss H," Joker snickered, playfully smacking Harley's tight leather-wrapped ass. The henchmen bound and gagged the giggling bloody guards, and tied their arms to a long metal rack in the coat room. She kicked them all in the nuts one more time, just for the hell of it. The laughing gas would wear off in a couple hours, but nobody would find the guards in that room until the museum reopened in the morning. Joker took Harley by her red-gloved hand and led her down the main hallway toward the artistic galleries.
"Gentlemen and lady, let's broaden our minds!" he beamed sarcastically. They pranced merrily through a big room full of classic masterworks, smashing everything in sight. Like Alex and the Droogs in A Clockwork Orange, after getting high on "milk-plus." They spray-painted over a Monet, hacked through a Manet, and demolished a Degas ballerina statue. The Joker paused in front of a copy of Leonardo da Vinci's crowning achievement.
"Ah, Mona Lisa," he sighed longingly. "I wish I could travel back in time to the Renaissance, and give her something to
really
moan about."
"Me too," Bozo agreed.
"I wanna shove my big cock through those smirking lips," added Jonny Frost.