It was Bruce Wayne's birthday, and everyonein Gotham - from the high-class society types to the drooling, psychotic inmates of Arkham was celebrating but me. Mister J had gone off to end the festivities with a bang...literally, and he hadn't let me come along, saying the hyenas needed fed, his socks needed washing...and dinner better be ready and still warm by the time he got home. Usually, we'd be up to the usual mischief together, but this was his most important mission ever: he was going to cause a ruckus at the Wayne party in disguise, kill a few people if needed, anything to lure the Batman out of hiding, and once he was there - bang! No more Batsy to spoil our fun. No more Batman to call the cops on Puddin', who'd lug him off to Arkham in a padded, barred-windowed van and a straightjacket. He was the only thing stopping my angel from running Gotham his way.
One of the hyenas (who like me best - I'm the only one who can be close to them without getting ripped to shreds - probably because I feed them daily. It's only one of my steady jobs around here.) rubbed against me, licking my leg, and I was reminded that there were still chores to be done. I hadn't even started on dinner! I whipped up my lovin' sweetheart's favorite, my special Tuna Surprise with Smiley Fries covered in ketchup on top. Mister J said it always put him in a murdering mood, seeing all those bloody, smiling faces staring up at him....After I stuck it in the oven, I did some laundry- he'd been complaining that he didn't have any clean matching socks. The oven timer dinged, and I took my casserole out, knowing he'd be home soon. To pass the time, I turned on the news so I could celebrate his success, but soon got bored with coverage of Bruce's party and no sign of my darling dearest.
Two hours later I was still waiting. My heart started to beat faster. What if he'd gotten lost? Or shot down in an alley by a drunken member of the Mob? Or captured by Batman and tortured? Was he crying out for me, waiting to be saved? No, my sweetie was too clever for that. He was probably picking the lock on the handcuffs right now...but I still had to try and save him. Stuffing my hair up under my hat, I slipped my shoes on and headed out the door, stopped by one of Mr. J's latest flunkies.
"Looking for the boss, little lady?"
"Yes," I answered hesitantly. "Did you...I mean, have you-"
"Yeah, I know where he is. The Batman caught him at Wayne's, trying to blow up the cake, and he took him to Arkham."
I gasped, and began to cry. Arkham! Again? This was the third time this month! He'd just broken out two weeks ago! Oh, what would I do without my Puddin' to make me smile?
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