Fast Cash
Rplog-icon Who: Joker, Harley Quinn
Where: Somewhere in Gotham City
When: Night time
Tone: Gritty, Comedy
What: The Joker decides he wants to steal an armored truck. Harley's down with that. (Of course she is.)

Today was the scheduled bi-weekly money transfer from just about every high-end business in Midtown. The armored truck, already out on its route, had three more stops before it ended its cirtcuit, and was, as usual, on time. Unfortunately, it seems, other forces were conspiring against it...

As it rounds a corner, it comes upon a strangely deserted block of the city. The reason, of course, would be the man, sitting astride the shetland pony, standing smack dab in the center of the road. The man, of course, would be the Joker, and the pony?

The pony was Beauregard James Compton the Third.

This fun little heist isn't down to just one man and one pony against an armored truck and three or four well armed and armored security workers. Where'd be the fun in that? There wouldn't be any challenge!

Which is exactly why Harley and her two hyenas are also on the scene. Why have an unfair fight when you can have a -really- unfair fight?

With the armored truck's route blocked off it's more likely to come to a stop rather than floor it, what with animal cruelty around every corner and all. Harley waits for it to pass before she skips out into the middle of the street, a simple back scabbard crafted for her treasured crowbar while the flare pistol fills one of her hands, filled with one of those 'special occasion' smoke canisters filled with the Joker's own special home brew.

"C'mon, babies! Got some friendly boys in black and blue for you sweeties to play with tonight!"

Let those guards in back open up the doors, she's ready to lob that smoke canister right at their feet.

Normal procedure isn't really to open doors for homicidal clowns and their smokin' hot, equally homicidal clown sidekicks, however, normal procedure goes out the window as the Joker, still sitting dashingly astride his pony yells, "Yah, yah! Mush! We've got a truck to rob, Beauregard, we can't be sitting around all day!" The pony lets out a heroic whiney and charges in the opposite direction of the truck, with the Joker shouting, "Not that way, you idiot!" He manages to pull the pin on a grenade and lob it with pin point accuracy, five feet to the left of the vehicle, watching as it explodes harmlessly away from any civilians or trucks.

Though, the pure intent is enough to get the men inside to open the back in panic.

All according to plan.

"Now where do ya suppose he's off to?" Harley asks her two pets as Joker and pony go romping off away from the truck. Shoulders are rolled with a "Meh!" as she selects a handy little grenade of her own, plucking the pin free then pausing to look at the ring, and the pair of keys hanging off the end of it. "So -that's- where I put those things!"

There's the wind-up, and the pitch!

There's a loud -THUNK- at the back door of the truck as the second grenade hits. Then falls to the street.

Harley bought hers brand new from the Army Surplus Store. There's no charge in it.

"Take -that- ya stupid money security guys!"

Bud and Lou obviously find all of this -hysterical.-

The men in the back of the truck pause as they hear the thunk of something hitting their doors. A glance is shared, and they all nod to each other, knowing, thanks to their intense security training, exactly what to do in just such a situation as this.

The doors are flung open and one of them cries out, "Don't shoot!" while the rest raise their hands above their heads.

Yes, training for security in Gotham involves a section on the Joker. And it involves crying, surrendering, and begging for mercy.

Joker, for his part, is still trying to get Beauregard James Compton the Third to turn around, but the shetland pony has stopped to snack on a discarded veggie burger. With a huff, he hops off the animal and begins his flailing, girl-like run back to the truck, purple suit tails trailing behind him as he yells, "Wait for me, Harley!"

Harley's all quick to aim the flaregun at the back of the truck as those doors fly open, calling out "Surprise, guy--aww, you ruined it!" Her posture changes in a heartbeat, looking all crest-fallen as the two guards start running away. "I didn't do anything yet, ya pansies!"

Harley glances back to her hyperactive, barely restrained pets.


Large toenails clack against the blacktop as they scramble off after the escaping guards, yapping excitedly. What exactly does a hyena do with a caught security guard? Let's find out!

Twirling the keys upon the fake grenade's ring, Harley strolls toward the back of the truck, humming a merry little tune to herself. She only interrupts the mini concert to declare "Kinda chilly tonight." Oh wait--wait, it's -J-Man!- With a sudden squeal she goes running right past the truck left wide open for the plundering, instead leaping to latch herself onto your shoulders. "I didn't know you were here tonight!"

She knew you were here tonight.

As the guards continue to sprint, they hear the clicking of nails on cement, and the barking laughter of the chasing hyenas, but before they can do anything about it, they're tackled from behind. The sharp nails of the hyena's dig into fl- *content deleted for graphic violence*

The Joker has just enough time to break into delighted, and wheezing, giggles at the sight of the guards being torn apart by the wild hyenas, before Harley is latched onto his shoulders and he has to stop for fear of crashing straight into the ground.

"Harley-poo... I was your ride!" He growls out, no real menace in his tone, "We better hurry, Beauregard stopped for his lunch break, so it's down to us to get the cash and get out." He looks at the back of the truck, and, with a manly display of strength, points out the bags and where he wants Harley to start piling them. "And don't laze about like you normally do, I'm on a schedule."

Harley looks from you to the bags. From the bags to the back of the truck. That's a lot of work involved. Money isn't exactly light, either.



As cheerful as can be she hops off of your shoulders and hops up into the back of the truck, individually introducing the dead Presidents every few handfuls. "Benny, so good to see you again! Oh, and your brother Benjamin's here, too! Oh, sir Jackson, we've missed you and your smooth social graces!"

Off to the side there's a lot of frantic yelling and ripping of uniforms and armored vests as her pets go to town.

"C'mon all of you ugly dead green guys, it's a party! You and me, we're gonna go places."

The fact that the guards had been armed with a shotgun and an AR-15 rifle, and that both got left behind, is completely ignored. She's here for the money, honey! Money buys guns, after all.

"Good job, Harls. I might just have Lar give you a back rub for this." Apparently this is supposed to be appealing, and Joker looks pleased with himself for coming up with the idea. He marches over to the pile, inspects it with a trained eye, then nods, approvingly. With a flourish, he retrieves a gas can from... somewhere, and proceeds to dump the contents all over the money, only to pull a lighter from the same somewhere, flick it into life, and toss it onto the stack "HahahahaHAahAHAhAHAHaHAHA!"

As the entire thing goes up in flames, Joker lets out a manic cackle and points to the now empty armored truck, "Get your babies in here on the double! We've got to pick up Beau and make tracks before any overgrown rodents show up!"

Oooo, -fiiire-... Harley's eyes suddenly gleam as the cash and fuel mixture goes up in an instant, barely paying attention to anything else around her as a wicked little grin crosses her painted face.

"Huhwhat..? Oh!" She daintily clears her throat then screams out "-BABIES!-"


Suddenly there's two hyenas back to flanking the resident Harlequin, ruffling both of their ears and, apparently, completely oblivious to the red stains around their maws. "Time for us to make tracks, darlings!

There isn't a thing on the planet that could ruin her mood right now. Mania is running rampant, and so is she!

The Joker pauses a moment to watch the flames, and, overcome with a sense of patriotism, salutes the burning money and starts to sing, even as he hops into the front of the truck and drives it towards Beauregard James Co- the pony...

"My country, is a flea!

Sweet land of misery!

Of thee I sing!

Land where my victims died,

land of the poison pies,

for every crazy guy,

Let freedom ring!"

"Darnit, now I want pie," Harley whines while bouncing up and down in the seat beside you. It's a good imitation of traveling quickly on a very bumpy road, except that the ride is currently perfectly smooth.

Though as with most things, it doesn't last. "Lou..? Bud?! What on Earth have you two been getting into! You guys weren't at the red paint again, were you?"

The guards are gone. The money's burning (well, some of it.) But, these two just scored themselves a sweet new ride! "Roadtrip!"

Are..are you aiming for the pony?

Indeed, it was the truck Joker was after, and, for some reason, it just never occured to him to keep the money as a bonus. Or maybe it did, and he thought it would be funnier to burn it instead...

Yeah, probably the second one.

The pony, as it turns out, is safe for now, 'cause Joker slams his foot on the break, screeeeching to stop a few inches from Beau who looks up lazily just in time to be entirely unconcerned with the oncoming vehicle.

After a few minutes prodding, prying, and begging, Joker finally lures the pony into the back with a discarded milkshake. It never occurs to him that the hyenas might... play with Beau, but, luckily, the don't. Well trained wild animals, they surely are.

"You can have pie when we get home! ... I didn't kill the baker yet, did I?"

Insert one pony and knife any dashboard to continue. Harley's got a truly wicked looking blade in her hand, busy carving a winking smilie face into the top of the dash while you're fussing over getting Beau properly installed. He might help himself to some of the paper money left over, too. But, plenty to spare!

"Thinkin' about having a pet of your own, Jay?" she asks with an entirely bright smile for such a dark, devilish look. Your question puts her into what sure looks like a deep moment of thought, taking the knife and -jamming- it into the center of her carved face as she considers. "Nah, I don't -think- so... Not yet, anyway. I know you were pretty upset when he forgot the sprinkles on your sundae, and for good reason. You -nevah- forget the sprinkles on a sundae!"

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