Wednesday Night, Central Gotham Museum of Arts
The shadow slipped out of the impossible crawlspace. It decended to just millimeters off the ground. A single claw reached out and poked hidden button and elsewhere a notice flashed in the security room.
“System overheat, three-minute cool down initiated.”
In two minutes the shadow had secured the prize and was making its’ way out of the gallery. By two minutes and fifteen seconds the figure had returned to the crawlspace. At the two minute and thirty second mark the closest roaming security guard looked in the fire door windows.
“All clear in gallery,” the guard spoke into the radio, “Nothing to report.”
On the roof the figure backed out of the air vent and stopped.
“You know bats, if you are going to creep on my ass, you might as well ask to play with it,” Catwoman gave a mocking pur.
The bypass was abruptly disconnected causing the alarms to sound in the Museum’s control room. When the guards arrived the grate was on the gravel roof and on top of that was the canary diamond ring from the gallery inside.
*
Wednesday Night, Arkham Memorial Gallery
The shadow slipped out of the impossible crawlspace. It descended to just an inch of the ground. A single claw reached out a poked a hidden button, that was when the figure noticed the blinking orange light hidden behind the button. The figure planted her feet on the floor and looked around. She spotted the figure moving to the fire doors of the main entrance to the exhibit hall.
“Ah, Bee, See, Dee, El Es, Dee,” The figure sang in a creepy crazy person trying to sound like a child voice, “Gummy Bears are chasing me, Red Ones, Green ones, Clear ones too, Oh my God they’re surrounding you…”
The face at the window of the fire door was a large clown face. She saw the hand come up and the thumb clenched down on the stick in his hand.
“Oh Shi…” She screamed.
*
She was dangling face down, a wet patch was pressing between her cowl and her forehead.
“Ahh!” She shouted, “Oh shit? Am I bleeding?”
“Yes Catwoman,” that sexy yet angry baritone voice brought her back to reality.
“Shit,” Selina hissed, “The fuck…”
“As much as we could enjoy that,” Batman intoned, “You need to get to a medic.
Selina gathered her wits and realized that she was in Batman’s arm dangling over the burning wreckage of the Gallery bellow, they were rising on one of the Batman’s grappling lines.
*
Alfred was waiting for the batmobile with a hospital gurney. Bruce picked Selina up and placed her on the gurney. She was rolled into the small E.R. in the cave.
“Hay Miss Kitty,” The oldest Robin called.
“Fuck,” Selina murmured.
“Cheer up,” Dick said, “You survived a Joker Orphan attack.”
“Yippy,” Selina winced as Alfred removed her cowl.
“I Identified the Suicide Bomber as Woof,” the First Batgirl’s voice called from outside of Selina’s field of view.
“Yeah, real disturbed character,” Dick chirped.
“Ah, no shit,” Selina snapped, “He hangs out with the Joke… ah ah ah. Ouch.”
“Hold still,” Alfred snipped.
“He is one of the stranger ones,” the first Batgirl called, “He got banned from some of the Joker’s Farm league gangs because he is a creep even among furies.”
“The Internet banned him for his Little Pony OC,” Dick laughed, “it was transgender hyena in a SS uniform.”
“Ok so he has been sucking on the clown’s super-secret extra zesty formula crazy sauce,” Selina grimaced, “What possible pun could Laughing Boy make by blowing up a museum?”
“Separation Anxiety,” The Batman intoned.
“What?” Selina tried to cock her head only to feel Alfred’s needle stab her.
“Subject Woof is one of the dependent personalities that Joker collects,” Batman narrated, “For the last week and a half, Joker has been missing along with Harley Quinn, Riddler and Scare Crow. It isn’t just in Gotham; Central City, New York, Metropolis, and other cities have had an unusual decrease in costume criminal and terrorist activities.”
“Right now we are calling this the Paranoia Front,” Alfred calmly clued Selina in, “That quite before the storm. And as you may surmise, our Dark Weatherman is predicting a category five storm.”
“Well Hurricane Joker is always a shit storm,” Selina admitted, “Come to think of it… I haven’t had any really annoying or stupid voice mails or text messages in a while. Well except for that creep Bruce Wayne, keeps trying to set up dates so he can trade dates halfway throw them. Womanizing Playboy creep.”
“I pity his poor butler having to make such phone calls,” Alfred kept the joke rolling in his flat deadpan tone.
“Lexcorps and Oscorp are both scrambling to try and find some way to assure their investors that there is no reason to panic,” Batman continued, “But both of the boardroom monsters might as well have skipped town to Ego for all we know.”
“Last stich,” Alfred announced, “All done. Would the lady care for some refreshments?”