A Gag No One Laughs At (pt.1)

July 30, 2016:

One of Harley's 'goons' is beaten up and she seeks revenge. Roy and Taskmaster just happen to join in on the fun. (NSFW - Language, Innuendo)


NPCs: None.



Mood Music: [*\# None.]

Fade In…

Happy Mike's XXL 1 A.M.

It's Ladies Night every night here. Harley's taking it in, soaking it in as a matter of fact while alcohol flows and women coated in glitter and wearing next to nothing while they all cram around the stage where men coated in oil slowly let their costumes sliiideeee off.

Don't get me wrong, one day a week is a night for men, and tonight is it. All the men of the cloistered women or eligible bachelor's sit back at the bar and look un-enthused as the nearby "most eligible ladies (and a few men)" wave every dollar bill they have at the meaty specimens on stage. But what exactly are said men waiting for?

Those ladies to get on stage for the "Gentleman's Night" Contest. This is where fantasies come true with either wife, girlfriend, or stranger.

…Hey, no one said this was intended to be a 'G' rated scene… ((So if you are into Disney, don't read on, it's about to get real))

3 Hours ago: Coney Island - Helter Shelter

Goat Boy wanders in, one eye swollen shut, lip busted open, equine nose bleeding, fingers broken, torsion applied, and lamed… Spittling blood a message is relayed.

"He said you still aren't worthy of him, never were and he's restaking his claim for your Mister….*gulp* jayyy.." The final work almost came out like a bleat before he dramatically passed the fuck out and saw Ewe's jumping a fence while…he was too fucked up to count them…

Harley: *Squizzle mark above head.* Exits with the slam of a door as Big Tony takes over.,… "Big"… being the punchline… ANYWAY!

Back to XXL:

Every step has a bounce. The heeled roller derby version of tennis shoes lace around slender ankles and alter her height above six foot. Long blonde hair drops from her crown in waves, platinum to an ombre of reddish pink and blue bounces below shoulders that are bare with the drop of shirt. The shirt falls off her figure, revealing the slope of lithe feminine curves, but the white drops in deep 'v's, tipped in tiny silver bells, much like a Harlequinn doll, but the dress clings to her figure, black and red diamonds a sheen of sequins that stop just below the curve of derriere, ripped and tattered finshnets as well as spiderwebbed tights clad over legs and contrast against pale skin, in fact alabastrite. But in the flashing lighting of multi-huen neon it makes no difference.

From between deep ruby glittered lips a bubble is blown and popped, at her side, a cane twirls, her dance moves a little less floppy as she dips between men and women alike, looking the part… Of both Harley and a nights performance. A far more smooth criminal then Harpo… But none the less…

Harley knew he would be here, and lessons had to be learned..

"This is so? low level." Taskmaster tries to find the words for it. From tangling with the Justice League last month to playing turf wars with Circus Freaks and Clowns. Though he already said as much to Harley once and got an earful he won't bother to try and complain again.

Taskmaster strikes an uncanny resemblance to Thomas Magnum 30 years ago, even the Hawaiian shirt is worn. It's a disguise clearly and the image inducer is in use. Underneath it all he looks very much the armored mercenary he usually is."So? " Yeah, words right now elude him. Which is a rarefied thing. It is not often that the man goes without the ability to actuate speech functions in any scenario."The Goat kid was just an excuse to come out and party wasn't he?"

"Yup!" The response to Magnum XXL ((Teehee)) is one that comes with a near baton-like wing of cane and a pop of bubble, all the while behind Harley the lights flicker, lasers sweep the floor and then span out, the beat picking up as the stage-men's pants come off in a sweep and dollars fly with happy shrieks ensuing.

A dollar flutters Harley's way and it gets tucked in her bra after she spends a loong moment bending over to pick it up, all the while his still sway to garner attention.

"Might be low level to ya' PI… But This is personal. And no one beats my guys on a level I am beyond. Even Bud and Lou know how dominance works. He ain't got nothin' on me!"

Although the squeals and screams in the background rise and subside, the music changes beats and the DJ becomes the announcer, inciting women to get on stage, amateurs but none the less, the men start to come closer from their perches at the bar to watch 'their ladies' perform.

"And now…for the ladies! Let's show your men, or the ones wanting to be yours, exactly what you got!" ..and by now most of them are (sch)wasted and stupid#facedd. It's a shit-show, but has (some) promise as glitter clad bodies take the stage…

"I'm gonna call him out Mistah T, and he's gonna regret playing hardball with my Goat-ee!"

A swirl of cane and Harley is ascending stairs to the stage. Sober from alcohol, but otherwise….

Nope! Mentally inebriated.

"I'll take your word for it, toots." Taskmaster assures Harley as he looks around just once, not a thing of interest here and he sure as hell best not imprint any of these 'slick moves'. "I definitely need a beer."

"Holy shit, sweet, you look just like Tom Selleck. Great impersonation!" A chubby man in a thong and vest remarks.
"Thanks now back off. I need a drink."
"A stiff one?" The fan remarks with a smile.
"I? will seriously hurt you if you don't walk away now."
"I like a little pain buddy. Lighten up, it's boy's night! 5 dollar dance, how about it?"

"Fine fine, take a compliment for once, dude."

"If you only knew, my friend."

Leaning in to the bar Taskmaster taps the counter, "Jack and coke." He is playing overwatch from his vantage, he'll watch Harley's backside and make sure nothing crazy happens, wait, crazy?
"And a bottle of Old Dusseldorf. Keep those coming… "

Under normal circumstances, this would have been ideal for Roy, especially pre-kid days.

But that was a few years ago, and nowadays, the wild, slick limber G-string women were replaced by prim, dressed, G-rated princesses. Whether Kori would have appreciated -this- sort of thing, Roy didn't know.

However, this? Roy had a favor to repay, and this… this happened to be that moment.

"Nice ass, isn't it?" Roy chimes in, sliding into the stool next to Taskmaster. "Always figured you more for the BDSM type, not the cosplay type."

Harley is taking the steps with a confidence while the others ascend the stage over the edge in an either innebriated fling of limbs akimbo, or an attempt at eased… Or hell…even some would make Catwoman lift a brow. There is talent here despite the methods, alcohol brings out the 'pros'. Or semi-pros.

The cane is spun in a twisted wrist, the black metal tip stamped onto the lacquered dance floors surface as lights slam on, then off - resetting for the show of women along the platform. Pole? Nope, Harley won't touch that. It's left to a slap-fite! as the club goes dark.

Lights come back with a long and loud bass drop. A flickering in the backdrop of the stage and the women go to show….despite the jingle of bells to the side where Harley even begins her own moves… She's an acrobat, but she's not here to dance…

from the door the guards part as well as the gathering of incoming dwellers for the night. You can't see who is coming in, as he is flanked by taller and limber (drug induced?) slender guards all painted like clowns. Old Joker's Gang despite Mistah J's silence….

So there's movement on ye olde front…

The entourage of clowns is ignored for the moment by Taskmaster as he looks Roy over, "Hrm, you seeing through this eh? Kudos to you, Roy boy. What brings you here?" The mercenary holds up another finger indicating he'd like another drink for his friend. "Hope you like Jack."

That parade of painted faces halts and a figure can be seen within the center, pale skinned, slicked back green hair, a smile like a Cheshire cat. The Clown Prince of Crime himself and in the flesh. A fancy twirl admist those around him and he looks at the crowd, one by one only to stop his gaze upon Harley Quinn. "There you are, my darling dovey poo-kins." His voice switching from a high lilt to a deep growl, "Come to daddy."

"Well that ain't good." Skullface mumbles in to his drink. Both set in front of him. The one for Roy is slid over towards the DEO Agent and Archer.

"Got to admit, I'm not sure if these people have seen too much Insane Clown Posse, and are here to show their juggalos," Roy comments offhandly, before grunting at Taskmaster, catching the slid drink in a hand and then taking a swig. "What's not good about…" he begins, before catching a look at just -who- had shown up.

"… aw man, wait, don't tell me, that's the -real- thing?" Roy grimaces, before taking a swig. "What's -he- doing here…?"

Reaching into his pocket, Roy begins discretely tapping something… something Task might recognize as calling for emergency assistance. Stop him now?

//Be warned, my children six will visit followed by the crumbling of time
itself. Before the coming of Shangra La, a dark Carnival will sweep across
the land, as a shadow, plagued with destruction. A parade of freaks,
jugglers, and death. This wretched nightmare is led by six faces. Three have
come three have gone. The fourth emerges now. He walks among
us as a shadow, void of light, powered by your own darkness, strengthened by
your own wickedry. A horrid reflection of your very own deep desires cast
and reflected back upon yourself. Brothers and Sisters! The time has come
for the Necromaster. The unleashing of the fourth joker's card. The arrival
…of The Great Milenko…"

Harley is here to end the Joker's Gang teeny sidekick that wanted her place and busted up Goat Boy… "Gaggy"… Or so Harley believed… Until now.

The music changes, and the DJ is even moved aside… With hands bound and mouth Gorilla Tap'd. In fact…. Staff is at the whims of the Clowned Princes's hands. The other women seem to be none-the-wiser, but they are smiling where Harley's own dance and moment of joy seems to come to an abrupt pause…

Roy may be dialing something, and if the call goes through… (or the bullet goes through his phone) once Gaggy makes his own "big reveal" the cane rotates in Harley's wrist, the metal point executing a gunshot with the echoing crack of a shotgun.

She came armed, and the midget came with a death-wish… She hates ((Them))him. Always has.

The Joker's call, however… Her blue eyes ringed in mismatched black and blue shadow widen, slightly… A quiver in the hold of cane and her lower lip trembles…. Despite evident emotion… Harley carries on dancing while the club goes dead quiet in parts.

"Looks like it." Taskmaster says, is he masked underneath that disguise because somehow he is drinking and he never goes without his skull mask. "It's baggage that's all I know. A whole heap of it." Without completely turning his focus on Roy he adds, "If that's you doin' somethin' stupid like putting up some heroic distress beacon I'd stop. For your own health and the rest of the fine people here." Not him threatening, he just knows how these lunatics operate. It is a whole new shebang.

"Harls, Harley, Harleycakes. Didn't I just call your name? Come on down! A fortune of fabulous prizes await you, Gaggy tell her what is in store for her today!"
"Why absolutely, Joker, as you know today is your day! It is going to start with a little bit of this? " Gaggy's trick is cut short as he falls to the floor clutching his hip, the gunshot was entirely not expected obviously. His eyes go wide and he screams, "It wasn't supposed to happen like this! That bitch shot me. Someone get her!" A handful of jumping jacks tumble free from where he'd fallen, these explode in noxious smoke plumes.

The Joker laughs, a laugh that will be heard for a thousand years, a true maniacs ululation. His form bent half over as people around them begin to scream and scatter.

"I hate clowns." Taskmaster says quietly.

Stop laughing you? you idiot!" Gabby shouts at the Joker.

Hand freezes on the phone, before Roy grimaces. "Dammit. When did Joker pick up a mini-me?" he asks, frowning. Apparently he'd never even -heard- of a little person running around with the Joker. The Harley, he had, obviously. Clearly, sex sells on the media.

The screaming of the parade of clown has Roy lowering his head, before looking towards Harley. "So correct me if I'm wrong, here… but doesn't that lady and the Joker have -history- like, well, fire and oil? Because if so, we're going to get… crap."

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