Chapter Twenty: Month Four, Part Two

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Wayne Manor | Gotham City, New Jersey
Tuesday, January 1, 2019 | 00:10 EDT

DAY EIGHT

We arrive back at Bruce's house just as the Arkham escapees bust in and scare everybody crapless. And the containment unit that's being used to hold Grundy looks to be pretty secure, seeing as how when the zombie sees me and Diana, he starts trying to bust his way out of the trailer to get at us, shouting, "SOLOMON GRUNDY, BORN ON A MONDAY!"

That poor zombie. Even though he's our enemy, it's not by his own choice. I just wish people would let him rest in peace. That's why every time we fight him, Diana and I have to euthanize him. And why me and Diana, you ask? Because Solomon Grundy is a magic zombie. Diana's weapons are magic. And while I am able to resist magic a little better than Green Kryptonite, I'm still weak to it. Magic threats require magic solutions.

So, we bust in a second after the Joker says, "What's the matter, Batsy? Couldn't get any more playmates for us than this mangy alley cat?"

And the Joker's smile drops upon seeing me and Diana, and I say, "Better an alley cat than a homicidal lunatic dressed like a clown. What're you doing out of your cell, Mr. Napier? The doctors at Arkham are trying to help you get better."

Joker's smile returns, and this time, he starts laughing. "Oh, you mean like my Harley, over there?" he laughs, pointing at Dr. Quinzel, who's standing next to Dr. Isley, Lois, and Bridgette, and kinda sticks out like a sore thumb because of her very pale, flawless, almost porcelain white skin tone, deep blood red lips, platinum blonde twin tails that appear to have been dipped in red on her right side, and black on her left, and her red and black dress. "Let me tell you a short story about my puddin'. She was a psychiatrist at Arkham. She volunteered to talk to me. She thought she could... rehabilitate me. But in the end, let's just say I rehabilitated her! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!"

Tears streak down Harley's rage-contorted face, and she starts toward Joker with an extending sledgehammer that she seemingly pulled out of nowhere, but Lois and Pam hold her back, Lois eases the hammer out of Harley's hand, Pam steps in front of Harley, and embraces her, and Harley breaks down, holding onto her beloved for dear life and seemingly remembering all the ridiculous abuse Joker put her through and how it would have completely broken her had Selina not convinced her to break up with that freak psychotic clown and switch sides.

"Well, she's not your 'puddin'' anymore, asswipe!" exclaims an outraged Selina. "And our cowboy boots are gonna kick your asses back to Arkham so hard that when you get there, you'll still be spittin' out our spurs!"

"Well, what now, Nygma?" the Harvey Dent personality demands of the Riddler. "Batman and Catwoman we can barely handle as it is, but Superman and Wonder Woman were not in our plans."

"This was your idea, Eddie-Boy," says the grating voice of the Two-Face personality, "and it's your problem, so you'd better be able to fix it!"

"Fortunately for you, Harvey," says Riddler to Two-Face very condescendingly, "I always think five steps ahead of humans, three steps ahead of Kryptonians, and two steps ahead of goddesses."

Nygma pulls out a tiny black remote. "Although, this might be amusing to watch." He presses a button, and I hear the whir of an electronically operated door opening. "Riddle me this, riddle me that: What's dead, walking, and hates the friends of the Bat and the Cat?"

"Solomon Grundy, born on a Monday..." calls the zombie from outside.

"Aw, he spoiled it," says Joker, almost dejectedly. "The sudden murders were supposed to be the punchline."

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