Story suggested by AnimeLover1808
When Barbara woke up that morning, she couldn’t remember what had happened the night before in any slight detail. All she could remember was her lingering nightmare of Selena Kyle, the Catwoman, defeated and humiliated in some strange circus setting as a living Jack in the Box, her face painted and body restrained by springs as she rocked back and forth from the box’s opening. The very remembrance of the nightmarish sights disturbed Barbara to no end. Oh well, she thought, maybe she could get ready for work.
Barbara reached over with her right hand to wipe some sleeping crust from the corner of her lips. Suddenly, she realized that her hand was gloved, but it wasn’t like her bat glove. This glove was of a smooth and silky configuration. Immediately, she could feel heavy lipstick and paint at the corner of her lips. She pulled her hand away and looked at it, finding a black and green glove enclosed over her slender digits and palm. On the tip of her index was a mix of red lipstick and white greasepaint. It didn’t take long for Barbara to see the green and purple sleeve on her arm.
I’m dressed... like a clown, Barbara thought in a chilling realization.
Her thoughts immediately went back to the dream as her eyes looked at her other arm, noticing how the sleeves matched. Both of the gloves were of a black and green composition. She jumped out of bed and felt her foot hit something. It was a funny looking bag, a clown’s purse. She immediately remembered what was in it- pins and balls, silly clown props. God, how embarrassing! She kicked the bag to the side, immediately wobbling when she realized just how hard its contents were. She cradled her aching foot to health before standing upright again. Barbara looked herself up and down, realizing that she was wearing a red and black skirt. Her shoes looked like she could be in a ballet, matching the green and purple ensemble. Green and purple. Of course! Those were the colors of the Joker, Barbara noticed quickly. Soon, visions of Joker and Harley were in her face, being projected from her mind with an intense rushing action.. More details of the nightmare flooded her conscious mind in rivulets of memories as it became very clear that the events implanted in her mind were not the result of any dream or fantasy. No, she had really gone through this madness. What she had encountered was undoubtedly real. Catwoman had been in a circus with her as a Jack-in-the-box, and Barbara served as a clown. They had participated in a madness concocted by none other than the evil clown prince of crime, The Joker, and his faithful sidekick, Harley Quinn. The insane merrymakers had treated Selena and Barbara to a hectic evening of dark delights and unspeakable treats.
If only it had been a dream.
Barbara thought of how quickly she had to move in order to get out of the clown garb and makeup to prepare for the day. She didn’t have any time to wonder how she got back home or if she was able to defeat Joker and Harley before they did any more damage. After inspecting her watch, however, Barbara’s adrenaline started to calm down. It was the weekend. Barbara was sure of it after checking her cell phone and double checking her digiital calender on her computer, just to be sure. She smacked her mouth open and scratched the back of her head as she thought of ways to prepare for the day. Maybe, before getting ready to fight crime that night, she would spend a day walking or visiting the Gotham Museum. Her body was aching and she was sure that she had been working harder than usual, which surprised her. As Batgirl, she was used to getting herself in crazy situations that required a lot of energy.
Barbara looked in the mirror and studied the strange painted clown face that stared back at her. It was easier to remember everything with the visual representation as clear as day. She had a pink nose with red lips, blue eye shadow resting over her eyelids. Three colored balloons were on one cheek with a red heart on the other as a big purple star was painted over her right eye.
“God,” Barbara found herself saying aloud, no longer able to contain her thoughts of embarrassment and shame, “I look like a walking freak show. What... what did those clowns do to me?”
Barbara couldn’t help but feel her paranoia flowing in other directions. There was no way the Joker would merely dress her up as a clown. What else had he done to her? Had he brainwashed her? That would explain the strange loss of detail in memory, the confusion of waking up from a dream like state that proved not to be a dream at all. The entire thing was sickening to her, devastating and annoying. How would she ever get out of it?
The embarrassment was not merely limited to a painted face. She also had purple star earrings that looked like they came out of some hockey costume catalog and a strange green wig. Barbara knew that she was wearing tights from the elastic feel of fabric on her legs but after a quick glance she could see things were stuffed in them. As she reached into her tights to pull the items out, she was astonished to see a rubber chicken come out. She threw it to the wall with some anger that was hard to suppress. Something else was in her tights too. She reached into her tights again and pulled out a clown horn. She dropped it, letting it honk as it met the floor.
I have to wash up, Barbara thought as she started to wipe at her lips, seeing how much lipstick would come up. Immediately. I have to clean this crap off.
Barbara stopped herself, wanting to remember more of what happened in the previous night. Things were slowly coming to her but it was all still a blur. Suddenly, she could see the face of the person that brought her to that strange circus clear as day. Yes, it was a woman with dark hair, fair skin, very beautiful but moppy looking-
“The goth girl” Barbara whispered.
Yes, the goth girl. She had prepared Barbara for the circus. The Joker had come in at some point and Barbara could still hear his voice in her head... but everything else was an absolute blur.
Think, Barbara told herself. Come on... you have to think.
Where did she meet the goth girl at? It was at a place that was very important for some reason. That’s when it hit Barbara- she had meet the goth girl at the very place she had gotten the clown garb she was wearing. It was a costume shop, somewhere in the downtown area. Her mind played back the scene like she had only been there a few moments earlier. The costume shop was huge with many sections, period costumes and accessories, but for some reason, she kept seeing the clown aisle. It was the only one that stained her memory, and she felt like she had been there more than once.
The clown section of the costume shop, Barbara thought as she pounded one fist into an open palmed hand. That’s it. The costume shop was where she met the goth girl.
The goth girl was the one that brought her to the circus and placed her at the mercy of The Joker. She was the one that had gotten Barbara all dressed up as a clown to impress the evil villain. It was a ‘date’, some deranged arrangement that she was forced into without any choice, a mandatory meeting beyond her control. Joker wanted to play with her like some sort of toy for his amusement, and he showcased a trapped Catwoman serving as a Jack-in-the-box.
No, Batgirl thought. Joker referred to Catwoman’s new bound identity as something else entirely. A Jill-in-the-box. Some feminine version of a jester confined to a cubic square without any choice.
She had to investigate that costume shop. There was no doubt in her mind that The Joker owned that shop and probably had used it as a hideout and place of operations for a long time. If she and Catwoman had easily fallen prey to the Joker and whoever that goth woman was through the costume store, then who knew how many other victims they had claimed for their services? How many lives had they ruined and forced into their clownish games? Barbara couldn’t allow any more of their sporadic ‘fun’ to destroy any other Gothamites. How could she stop them for good? All of that could be figured out during her shower.
Barbara striped out of her comedic clown garb. She was relieved to see that her body hadn’t been tampered with, at least from what she could tell. Her skin was still smooth and soft to the touch yet firm and well toned from her legs, stomach, arms and practically all over. There were no body modifications, no piercings or tattoos saying weird or ignorant things. Barbara turned around in front of the mirror just in case, checking every possible inch in view. Although she was still unnerved with the fact that she didn’t know exactly how she got home, she was glad that her body hadn’t become a canvas of destruction for Joker.
As Barbara turned on the shower head and stepped into the tub, her hands reached immediately for the shampoo. She let the water run through her red hair before her fingers reached into the tresses and against the scalp, massaging it and wettening it in preparation for a penetrating wash. The shampoo was poured over it in liquidy clumps before being smoothly mixed in with the water, creating heavy suds. As Barbara felt her hair becoming more fresh and alive, she tried to visualize her mind going through the same process- becoming less worried, less cluttered, and clear of any gunk remaining from the previous day. As the water ran, she could also feel greasepaint becoming wet and running on her face.
It’s sort of sad, Barbara thought, not being a clown anymore.
Barbara was surprised. To wake up and find herself as a clown was confusing, alarming, and outright disgusting, The very realization of being clowned and remembering that Joker was the one that did this to her made her feel as if she had been won over, defeated in the process of being made into a fool. It was only now, in the shower, before her hands had even started to clean her face, that the thought of getting rid of the greasepaint seemed hard to deal with. She could even say that she liked the greasepaint, which was embarrassing enough to state in and of itself. It was true, however- she didn’t want to let it go, and suddenly, that clownish face she wore made her feel good.
Barbara thought of Harley and Joker again. Suddenly, her usual thoughts of hate and loathing became thoughts of pleasure, passion, and a deep interest she was sure she had never felt before. No way, not about Joker and Harley. Then again, why was this entire morning feeling like deja vu? Had they subjected Barbara to this for a while? Barbara tried to think about the rest of the week, what led up to this day. Everything else was a blur. She could remember nothing beyond the fragments of last night, Catwoman’s humiliation, and her time with Joker and Harley. Now, with Joker’s evil starch white face filling her with erotic thoughts and Harley’s beautiful body propelling her mind to dirty images, Barbara just wanted to scrub away everything. It was just unbearable to think that she could actually have feelings for those crazy clowns!
Her hair was clean. The water was running, the soap suds of the shampoo moving down her body and towards the drain. Barbara’s face would have to be next.
Sure, she started to wash the greasepaint off. It was tougher than she expected, rubbing her soap on the makeup over and over again, realizing that it was not an easy thing to get rid of. There was not only the paint itself, which was already difficult, but the powder applied to it as well, and it was some heavy duty top of the line stuff. No wonder Harley’s face stays so perfect, Barbara thought.
Another mental image hit her. The goth girl. Harley. Harley with makeup, Harley without. The goth girl again.
“That’s it”, Barbara murmured, staring directly at the drain.
She would have to make that costume shop visit, hopefully within the hour.
Barbara scrubbed carefully between her breasts, under her armpits, and between her legs as she scrolled down her skin by every inch, making sure each section of her body was completely clean. After thoroughly washing herself head to toe, she turned off the shower head and stepped out onto the shower rug. She rinsed herself off and wiped her skin dry with the available towel before wrapping the towel around her head. She stepped out of the bathroom and immediately walked towards the dresser. Maybe, she thought, I can wear my nice red lingerie today.
Upon opening the dresser, a very startling revelation crept upon Barbara- all of her undergarments were gone, including her socks.
“What the...” The woman stood in shock as she looked in the drawers, completely shocked by the lack of clothing available. “I could have swore I did my laundry.” Barbara’s eyes widened as she thought about her other clothes. What if any of her other garments had gone missing? The woman stood up and raced towards the closet. She was shocked to find that every dress, every skirt, every shirt and all pairs of pants were gone, completely wiped out of her closet. One set of clothing, however, remained- her Batgirl uniform.
“Joker!” Barbara shouted in anger.
She couldn’t go back outside with her Batgirl costume. No way, not at this time, and she wanted to confront the shop owners as Barbara, the women they had toyed with and destroyed. She was sure that, at this point, Joker would be well aware of her identity and who she was. She didn’t want to give the clown prince the chance of feeling that he would be on top of her. She couldn’t. No, she had to be ahead of the game, let Joker know that she was top dog. No one got the runaround Barbara Gordon- she didn’t care what Joker had done to her so far.
There was only one thing Barbara could wear other than her Batgirl uniform. The bold fact stared her in the face with much embarrassment and shame.
“Oh god,” Barbara thought.
Barbara was wearing the same clown clothes she had gotten from the clown shop. She wore a green and purple one piece with a red and black tutu. She wore black and purple striped tights that outlined her shapely legs perfectly. Black and green gloves enveloped her hands, serving as the perfect compliment to her green and purple ballet shoes. She didn’t have a choice to wear anything else, and Barbara was sure that Joker had raided her closet as some sort of sick joke. Now, she was set on getting him back.
After a quick drive, Barbara returned to the same costume store. She was ready to confront her enemies. Her hair was held up in a bun and her facial expression, even with the concealing specs, showed no light hearted feelings. Even though she had put the clothes back on, she refused to paint her face again. Even so, a strong love for the clothes couldn’t be denied. She loved how they fit, how they outlined her body and made her seem quite foolish. That must have been a hard thing to do- to make Batgirl of all people look foolish.
Barbara sat in the car for a while, trying to think of exactly how she would confront her foes. She pulled the big clown purse to her side. It was filled with many items. She remembered the balls and pins but what else could be in there? She couldn’t help but take a peak. Reaching inside, she pulled out a horn. She thought back and remembered putting the horn and rubber chicken into the purse with the intent of getting rid of it. She wanted to drop everything off at the costume shop before beating Joker to a pulp. Looking at the horn now, however, she found it a bit adorable and cute, lacking the usual menace she found when she thought of anything clown, aka Joker, related.
Barbara honked the horn. It’s amusing sound sent her into a soft chuckle. It wasn’t really that bad. She honked it a few more times, highly entertained by the noise. Well, look at me, Barbara thought. I’m a genuine clown.
Barbara looked in the bag again and pulled out the rubber chicken. Without warning, she smacked herself in the face with it. This caused the woman to laugh hysterically. It was ridiculous, but she kept smacking herself again and again, over and over, laughing with compulsion. What a fool she was! She couldn’t believe how foolish she had become. Barbara ran her fingers through her hair. What could she expect? This was her life now. She wasn’t a Batgirl or a librarian- she was a clown! There was nothing else for her to aspire towards- her destiny was set.
Get it together, Barbara thought with strong annoyance. Joker’s gotten into your mind somehow, made you think these things... you have to fight!
She couldn’t fight. Barbara couldn’t resist in any way, shape or form. This was her life now.
If anything, I could just ask for a job, Barbara thought with a laugh. Me, working for the store owned by the clown prince of crime- could you imagine?
Maybe. Just maybe she could.
Snap out of it, she kept trying to think to herself. Hopefully, it would work, keep her focused and aware, able to snap out of anything Joker or Harley could throw her way.
The off duty librarian wasn’t surprised to find that the costume store was closed for the weekend, but she doubted that its owners were away. With a closed fist, she pounded on the door.
At first, no one answered. It was after a few pounds of Barbara’s fist, however, that she could hear someone giving up and finally approaching.
“Alright, alright,” the voice said angrily.
When the person finally opened the door, Barbara recognized her immediately. The dark hair, the moody style of clothing- it was the goth girl.
The goth girl looked at Barbara with some intrigue. “Well... don’t you look lovely. Are you enjoying your costume?” Rubbing her chin, the goth girl seemed to give her own question some thought. “Well, of course you are, if you’re still wearing them today.
“You took my clothes. I want a refund,” Barbara held up her clownish purse.
“Ha!” The goth girl looked Barbara up and down with a scoffing expression. “Sorry, sweetheart. We don’t do refunds. Besides, I gave it to you for free, remember?”
Barbara dropped her hand, thinking back as hard as she could. “Oh yeah...”
“Now,” Harley continued, “ it’s a very nice, happy day, don’t you think. Why don’t you go out and laugh a little? Your face is too sour even for a.... tragic soul like myself. Now, good day.”
Barbara stuck her foot in the door and stopped it’s movement as the goth girl nearly closed it. “Oh, we both know that you’re no tragic soul at all, Harley.”
The goth girl suddenly smiled. “I have no idea what you’re talking about?”
“Oh?” Barbara returned a grin of her own. “Just like I’m sure you don’t know who I am at all.”
“I remember you shopping here the other day, yes, and preparing your costume.”
“But exactly what did you prepare it for.”
The goth girl blinked. “I’m not following you.”
“I have memories, Harley. You and Joker know my identity.”
The goth girl laughed.
“Both of my identities. And I can’t afford for you to use that information against me.”
“Oh, we would never use any information against anyone! Besides, you have a third identity now... Duela.”
Barbara gasped. It all made perfect sense now. “You’re... making me into some imitation of Duela Dent?”
“Yes, that’s right.” Harley grinned sadistically. “Duela Dent, the Joker’s Daughter. The one and only. What were you expecting, Betty Boop?” Harley laughed at her own meaningless joke. “No way! We were going to have some fun with you, and play you like a violin. Create the perfect daughter for Joker. What else could be better?”
Barbara’s fists were shaking at her side. She would have loved to punch the goth girl right dead in her face. “Don’t think you’re going to get away with this.”
“Already have, baby. You’re in me and Mistah J’s hands now. All ours, like a robot or a toy, but something better. Something more... organic.. edgy... and fun! Do I dare add hilarious?” The goth girl laughed.
Barbara shook her head. “I would have rathered this would have all been a dream. Just some sick, perverted dream. Well, you asked for it.”
“No need to act so harsh, Barb. I mean, why pretend? We know you just love Joker’s costuming and what we chose for you.”
Barbara couldn’t lie. She did love it. In fact, she adored it. The very knowledge of those true feelings humiliated her but filled her with excitement at the same time. She couldn’t hide the elation from her face.
“What do you say, Babs? Work the shop a little. I’ll show ya the ropes. No biggie, huh?” The goth girl’s mundane accent was fading as Harley’s lively dialect was making a grand appearance.
“Well... okay.” Barbara said with hardly any resistance. She could hardly believe what she was saying.
“That’s a good Duela. Well, come on in. You’ll be co-cashier. We’ll be like sisters. We’ve got lots of fun to have!”
Barbara stepped into the costume shop with some reserve. She was a bit afraid and not really knowing what to expect from Harley, yet feeling strangely submissive to her at the same time. Was this a part of Joker’s strange mind control tactic, to make Barbara feel aware yet maintain some sort of unseen dominance on her mind, her emotions and actions. Either way, she was willing to work with Harley, to be a part of her shop and do whatever she needed to do as a fellow employee.
Harley walked her new employee down the rows between the various aisles, each one dedicated to some sort of costuming theme- history, sexy clothes, western...
“The first thing we gotta do is get you out of those funny clothes,” Harley said with a smile. “I mean, I like those clothes, and I know Mr. J did too... but you wore those yesterday! Did you wash?”
Barbara sighed. “Yes. Which is why my face is clean.”
“Of course. But putting dirty clothes over a clean body doesn’t make any sense now, does it?”
“Well, if you remember correctly,” Barbara answered with some annoyance, “you and Joker took my clothes.”
“Oh, we did?”
“Don’t play innocent with me, Harley. You know and I know that you in fact stole my clothes from my apartment and took them... took them.. somewhere.”
“Hmm, well, maybe we did. Say!” Harley stopped, getting a dark amused look in her eyes as she grinned wide like some she-devil. “Lookie lookie here.... your favorite section!”
Barbara looked up. It was her section, alright. The clown costumes and accessories were lined down the aisle in heavy stock.
Harley grabbed Barbara’s hand and edged her along, hardly able to contain her giggling. “Now let’s see what work clothes we’ll get you in today... well, what do you know?” Harley pointed to a set of clothes prepared at the end of the aisle. “We already have some working clothes set out for you!”
As they approached the special clothes, Barbara inspected them closely.
The clothes seemed strangely familiar.
“Well, what are you waiting for?” Harley laughed. “Put your clothes on! Well... first you got to get undressed.”
Barbara looked at Harley with suspicious eyes. “Wait a second. Where’s the dressing room?”
“No need. You just get undressed right here, and I’ll help you get dressed again.”
“I don’t know if I feel comfortable having you see me get undressed.”
Harley smiled. “Barbara... it’s nothing I haven’t seen already!”
Barbara shook her head. “What am I not surprised?”
The redhead gave up. Without any more questions or delays, she started to strip, pulling down her silly striped tights and slipping them off along with her ballet shoes. Her gloves were the next to go, their green and black design thrown to the ground like a discarded memory. Barbara’s tutu fell next, then her one piece. In less than a minute, she was standing there, naked, cupping her breast as she tried to hide any embarrassment she felt.
Harley eyed Barbara’s long legs all the way past her nicely shaped bottom up to her guarded yet still ample breasts. “It’s a shame you would want to hide that beautiful body... especially after all the fun we’ve had together.”
“That fun undoubtedly happened when you and the Joker brainwashed me.”
“Are you so certain we brainwashed you?”
“It’s the only thing that makes sense.”
“No, Babs. The only thing we did is liberate you.” Harley pushed Barbara over to the work costume waiting for her. “Now, be a good little bat clown and put on your new clothes.”
Barbara was irate. How dare Harley speak to her that way! Still, Barbara couldn’t drive herself to fight the woman- she could only obey. She slowly put on the clothes that looked too familiar. First she slipped on a black and white checked skirt. After she put on the skirt, she proceeded to pull on the accompanying clownish top that came with it. The top had a green sleeve on one side and a red and black sleeve on the other. Playing cards stuck out on the left side of the top’s torso with a big purple lilac of a flower hanging from the breast.
It feels like I’ve worn this before, Barbara thought as a strange sensation crawled all over her skin. Was it a nostalgic feeling? A creepy feeling? It felt a little like both to her.
Next came the legwear. Barbara slipped into a pair of bright purple tights with laughing clown faces on the knees. Barbara put purple gloves on her hands before slipping on some purple shoes with green heels. The entire costume, like her previous one , had a mixture of Joker and Harley colors, though the Joker’s colors were the most dominant.
“I knew it.” Barbara’s mouth dropped. “I wore these clothes before.”
“Of course you have, Babs.” Harley patted her fellow employee on her back. “It’s the same costume you wore on your second night as our daughter, Duela Dent.”
Barbara turned to Harley with rage in her eyes. “How long have you been doing this to me?”
Harley stepped back, holding up her hands as if it would calm Barbara down. “Oh, not too long. Just a few days. It’s a new thing, honest- we just plan to make it permanent.”
“I would never end up like you- either of you.”
“No need to make a decision too quickly, Babs. At least not until you hear Mistah J out.”
“You’ve had your fun with me. Now I want out.”
“You need to be more patient, babydoll.”
“Where’s Joker. I want to see him now.”
“But we’ve got so much work to-”
“Where’s Joker?” Barbara screamed the question at the top of her lungs, knocking some accessories off the shelf.
Harley grinned, her eyes dancing with delight. She was obviously enjoying this angry, fiery Barbara. “Just be patient. You don’t think I’d have a laugh without Mistah J getting involved, do ya? Now, come on, let’s go do your face.”
Harley set Barbara down in front of the mirror and started to paint her face. First, she put the white grasepaint base all over the woman’s visage. Quickly following, she placed her blue eyeshadow on, pink blush over her cheeks and finally topped the makeup off with a nice set of red lips.
“How do you feel, Barbara?”
“Ridiculous.”
“Good. You got a lot of work to do.”
Harley had a few chores set up for Barbara to handle. First, there was the new inventory of clown acccessories and costumes that needed to be organized. Then, there were other aisles that needed to be organized, items begging to be unpacked and put up for the next work day. After only two hours of work, the able bodied and strong Barbara couldn’t help but feel tired.
“When is Joker coming, Harley?”
“Don’t worry about that, Babsy. You’ll know.”
Barbara couldn’t help that, after only ten minutes of “training”, Harley had spent most of the time filing her nails and blowing bubblegum. Barbara was aggravated by the sight of Harley as she seemed to handle no work at all. Still, Barbara couldn’t do anything about it. Inside, as if on some deep subconscious cue, she felt owned by Harley, possessed, as if there was nothing she could do. She could only do what Harley wanted her to do, taking care of the shop and handling the tasks thrown at her.
“You’re doing good, Babs!” Harley shouted as she read the funny paper.
Barbara sighed as she put up a final article of clothing. She could hardly believe that she was done. “Harley... why do you work for Joker? Don’t you know he’s abusive, selfish, crazy... evil?”
Harley looked into Barbara’s eyes. Her usual glee was replaced with a noticeable sadness. “You know, you’ve got Mistah J pegged all wrong.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. I mean, for one, he’s sweet, giving, kind-”
“Wait, wait, wait... how can you say these things?”
“Well, think about it. He’s just a guy that likes to have fun. And he likes other people to have fun, too. That’s why he’s always trying to bring a smile to people’s faces, make them laugh... just like he did with you.”
Barbara looked down at her shoes. A guilt was burning in her heart. Why did she feel like Harley was right?
“Just think about what he could have done- left you to live your unfulfilling life. You weren’t happy as Barbara. Batgirl didn’t do anything for you either. This is a much better life for you.”
“What’s so good about a life where I have no control.”
“But you do have control,” an interjecting voice called from the backdoor of the shop.
Barbara recognized The Joker’s voice immediately. Harley did too- her saddened face quickly became happy again. The clown prince’s dark gaze and wide smile sent chills up her spine.
“You’ve left me with no control,” Barbara responded.
“Maybe not at first,” Joker said as he started to walk forward, “but if I didn’t, how would you have ever known true joy by yourself?”
“Even now, I’m still brainwashed. I don’t know how you did it, Joker. Mad Hatter’s tech, some other device...”
“Mad Hatter’s brainwashing devices have gotten a bit dull, Barbara. I have my own mind control toys now. You, however, have a choice to make... a big choice.”
Barbara stood merely a few inches away from Joker now, face to face. The desire to take him down to justice was so strong in her. She knew, however, that she could do nothing. Joker was her master, her ruler... her father.
“What choice do I have to make, daddy?”
“You have to choice whether you’ll continue the liberated life that I have shown you as Barbara Dent, or go back to the cold and boring life you have as Barbara Gordon. Unfulfilling, dire, and dull.”
“Ha. Even with your ‘choice’ that you offer, you sure have a baised way of delivering it, don’t you?”
“Oh. You can’t even try to tell me that life you live as Barbara is fun. That would be a lie.”
Barbara froze for a moment, her mind blank before finding the right words to respond with. “Is that what life is all about to you, Joker? Having fun, at other people’s expense? Hurting anyone that gets in your way, brainwashing them if they think differently than you?”
“Well, yeah! It’s fun!” Joker shoved his finger in Barbara’s face. “So, what’s it gonna be, huh? A laugh riot or droolsville?”
Barbara could say nothing- she couldn’t believe it. She immediately wanted to say Duela was the life that she wanted to live, but her moral mind and the little strength that was left in it fought bitterly with her, trying to win over her thoughts and feelings.
“No need to rush,” Joker said, his winning smile never fading away. “Sleep on it. I’ve got a proposition for you to think over.”
“A... a proposition?”
“Yes. One you won’t be able to refuse.”
To Be Continued