“Why do they have the same thing on both sides like that?” Harley asked as she fiddled around with Joker’s stack of cards. She was turning a king of spades upside down as she cocked her head with it, squinting one eye.
The Joker sighed. “Because—because they do!”
He was sitting at a moldy old desk, knife in hand, scratching away at the damp wood. Harley was perched on top, the cards were scattered everywhere. She couldn’t exactly shuffle like he could. They were exhausted after a rather close escape from Arkham, closer than he would have particularly liked. It was a wonder they had managed to find enough time to pick up their clothes from confiscation. That meant nothing but the clothes on their backs and Arkham employees being what they are… Joker could swear he had had a Rolex the last time he was caught.
The point was they had no resources. They had barely made it to an old apartment building that had nothing but roaches and rats. Still trying to come up with a plan, Joker had fallen to scratching on the desk. The knife was something he had found in the apartment. While that was fortunate enough, he couldn’t think of anything. He had instead made smiley faces all over the wood. It didn’t help that his suit smelled from being in storage so long.
Harley hadn’t fared any better. Her costume looked wrinkled and the handbag that could be so useful had nothing but makeup and tampons in it now. That was actually pretty good. Joker didn’t know what he would have done if Harley asked him if they could come out of hiding for tampons. He noticed Harley had managed to get to his hat and was now chucking cards into it.
She wasn’t even trying. She was just making a really big mess. How she had reached into his coat pocket to get the cards, as if knowing they were there, he couldn’t figure. What he should have been thinking about was how she had managed to get away with it. They were his cards after all.
Harley was spinning a card into the fedora, missing. “They make me think of Harvey’s coin.”
“Harvey’s …coin?” Joker slowly looked up at Harley.
The girl was painstakingly oblivious.
Harley flinched. She started to collect the deck.
“Listen, you little buttermilk! My cards are NOT mere nickels or whatever that ButtFace uses! Harvey sees double. I see what’s there. You want to know why the cards are the way they are?”
She looked as if contemplating whether to answer.
“They’re like that because that’s the way the world is. There are two sides to everything, Harl, but they’re on the same plane. They pull away but there they’ll stay. Two sides to everything, but they’re more alike than they realize.”
The Joker turned back to his scratching.
“Then how come the Joker card and the ace…”
Booshwash is 30s slang for talking nonsense...and "buttermilk", I just threw in there :) It means an unattractive woman or some such...please review :)
Author's Chapter Notes:
Harley wondered if he was even talking about cards anymore...