AN: Hi fanfiction peoples! This is something that just came to me and begged to be written. I shall share it with you. Please feel free to review or I shall send Batman after you! I have that kind of power! Mwahahahahahahahahaha!
Disclaimer: Batman, the Joker, and Harley Quinn are too awesome to be owned by anybody, especially by lowly little old me. As for the Boy Scout on Steroids, well I don't own him but somebody does.
The Joker was pacing the floor in the abandoned joke shop he had taken up residence in. He was trying to figure out a new plan that would destroy the Batman. So far, nada. He had been thinking for so long he didn't even remember what day it was.
Someone knocked on the door. The Joker was already frustrated about his block, so this interruption infuriated him. He stomped over to the door and opened it.
"WHAT!?" he shouted into the face of Harley Quinn. She cringed. "And how many times do I have to tell you not to interrupt me when I'm working!!!!!?" Harley shrunk away a little more.
"B-but, Puddin', this… this just c-came in for you." She stammered. He looked at the jar she held in her hands. She squeaked in fear as snatched the jar away from her, and sighed in relief that he hadn't hit her as he started to examine it.
It looked like a normal jar. The only problem was that its metal coating prevented him from seeing what was in it.
"Who found out where we are, anyway?" he asked, not looking up.
"Dunno, Mista' J. There weren't no card." Harley answered, looking over his shoulder at the object. The Joker turned it over in his hands a few times.
"Ah, what the heck." He shrugged, and went to open it. It didn't do him any favors there. He tried again, harder this time. No dice.
"What's wrong with this thing?" He started to bang it against the table.
"Puddin', maybe I could…"
"Yeah, right." the Joker laughed, and proceeded to his desk to get a crowbar. He tried to pry it open, but it wouldn't budge. He kept at it for a few minutes, but eventually concluded that it wouldn't work. That was when curiosity got the better of him. He took his gun out of his jacket and shot at it. It bounced right off and Harley just got out of the way in time.
The Joker frowned as Harley peeked over the table. He scrutinized the jar. It sat on the table, a small shine coming off it as it reflected what little light there was in the room. It was mocking him.
"This means war." he said, glaring and pointing at the jar.
"Go away, Harley." She obeyed, and he began to pace his office once more. He stared at the jar, all thoughts of defeating Batman gone. He smiled as an idea came to him. He giggled a little and squirted some acid from the trick flower on his coat onto the jar. He rubbed his hands together and smiled as he waited for a result, but there wasn't one. The jar remained sitting on the table: just as whole, just as shiny, and just as mocking.
"Alright! No more Mister Nice Clown!" he growled. The Joker picked the jar up and went into the main room. Harley was sitting in there petting the hyenas with a dreamy look on her face.
"Harley!" he called. She snapped out of it and looked towards him.
"Get your bazooka." he ordered. She jumped up and saluted him.
"Right away, Mista' J!" she said, and cart wheeled off to go get it. The Joker smiled as he set the jar down on a small table.
"Oh, you're gonna be sorry now, bucko!" he said to it.
"Got it!" Harley called, holding the weapon.
"Well, fire away then, Poo!" he said, still smiling. She aimed and fired. There was a loud boom, a few crashes, and the laugh of the Joker, which was described by most as more scary than anything that came before it.
When the smoke cleared, the Joker looked to see his defeated adversary. As it turned out, it wasn't quite defeated. It had merely been thrown against the wall in the force of the explosion. It lay on the floor, intact. The Joker's eye twitched and he lost his smile. Never, in his whole life, had he ever been outsmarted by a jar.
Harley glanced at the Joker. She knew that look in her Puddin's eye. It wasn't good.
"Well, I'd better be goin' to bed now, Mista' J." she said nervously, and turned to go. Without as much as a glance in her direction, he grabbed her, dragged her to the door, and threw her out. Again. She propped herself up on her elbows, sighed, picked herself up, and walked out into the night. Again.
Once the Joker slammed the door, his shoulders drooped. He picked up the jar, walked over to a nearby counter, and placed it there. He then pulled up a stool, sat at the counter, and propped his head on his hands, staring at the jar.
"I don't understand. Why can't I break it?" he sighed, completely bamboozled, and continued to look at the jar for a few minutes. "This thing may even be tougher than the Bat." he commented, and fell into a long silence.
Harley came back at about 8 o'clock in the morning. She looked over to where the Joker was sitting and thought, Breakfast time! She cooked up some eggs and sausage. When she was done she waved the pan under the Joker's nose.
"Wakey, wakey, Puddin'! I made your favorite! Smile in a pan!" Harley said. The Joker opened his eyes, blinked a few times, and looked down at the eggs and sausage assembled to look like a smiley face. He grumbled, began to eat, and looked up to stare at the jar. Harley noticed this.
"You still on about that stupid li'l jar? Why don't you just forget about it?" she asked.
"That's the thing, Harl, I can't. It's driving me crazy!" he said, throwing his arms in the air. Then he paused.
"Oh wait, I already am crazy." He smiled, laughed, and went back to his breakfast staring contest with the jar. And the jar was winning. The Joker growled and threw his fork at it.
"I can't take it anymore!" he yelled, and turned his back on it. Harley looked nervously from the jar, to the Joker, and back to the jar again.
"Honestly, Puddin', I think only Superman could open that." She said. The Joker straitened up.
"That's it!" he cheered. Superman could open it. Harley was shocked.
"But Mista' J, last time we went to Metropolis you was almost killed!" she said, looking worried. The Joker just laughed.
"Forget about that, Harl. Besides, think of the fun! What's the worst that could happen?" They found out a few hours later.
The Joker had run around, stealing what he could and blowing up the rest. Superman stopped him pretty fast, though, seeing as the Joker hadn't really planned it out and had forgotten his little piece of Kryptonite back in Gotham.
"You know, this seems a little weak for you." said Superman.
"Oh, shut up, Supie. I've got a question for you." said the Joker, and he took out the jar and gave it to Superman.
"What's this?" he asked, examining the jar.
"Just open it you big dumb-dumb." The Joker said, folding his arms. Superman raised an eyebrow, and x-ray visioned it. He had apparently deemed it safe for that's when he broke the lid off. The Joker looked up in anticipation. Superman reached in and pulled out a note. He read it silently to himself.
"Well, what does it say?" the Joker said, losing his patience. Superman punched him in the face.
The Joker woke up in his cell in Arkham. He sat up and rubbed his temples. His head was killing, but what else would you expect after being punched by the Man of Steel. He looked over to his bedside table and saw a note there. It was the same note from the jar! He smiled and scrambled over to get it. It read:
P.S. Give him a good punch for me, Superman.
The Joker read the note over one more time, just to be sure. He then growled, ripped the note up, and started to punch his pillow, yelling "It's not fair! That's my thing! It's not fair!"
In another part of Gotham, Batman sat in the Batcave. The date was April 1st and Batman had hacked into the security cameras in Arkham Asylum. As he sat there, watching the Joker pound his pillow, that rare smile of his came out.