Must Love Hyenas

21: Laughing Gas

Joker paced behind his desk, occasionally glaring at the thugs standing on the other side while they gave a very negative report on their effectiveness in taking over legal businesses in Gotham.

"All the shop owners we talked to refused to sell or even listen to our offer," one man reported, scratching the back of his shaved head. "It was almost like someone else got to them first."

"Yeah," another chimed in. "Some of the people I met with acted like someone had a gun to their head and were afraid of getting killed if they were even seen talking to us."

"Did someone have a gun to their head?" Harley asked.

"We didn't see anyone, and I hung around afterwards, but there wasn't anyone else there," the criminal replied.

"Too bad we don't have a way to make them happy," Harley mused. "They'd be too silly to resist our takeover."

"Speaking of which," Joker said as her comment reminded him. "I think it's time I had a talk with our scientist friend Wilkins and find out how his research is coming along. The rest of you, get back on the streets. Don't question the locals, just keep an ear open as you patrol the city. We don't want to let anyone know we have a rival for controlling Gotham."

***

The Kendell Research facility had been boarded up for ages. The small building was covered with old, flaking paint that had only been white during the first few years. Since then, it had faded to become a lifeless gray, the same as the rest of Gotham. Wedged between towering structures on either side and underneath the tracks of an elevated train, the single story building had been all but forgotten by everyone except the occasional gang member who took the opportunity to spray paint a logo or design on the side.

The previous padlock on the door had been intended to keep people out, but Joker had melted it with his acid flower and installed his own lock in its place. Using the key from his pocket, Joker went right in.

Lacking anything more than an emergency generator for power, the research facility was filled with darkness and only the occasional bare lightbulb provided any kind of illumination. Most hallways were dark voids of nothingness, the scratching of scurrying rats giving the impression something else might be waiting down the lightless corridors, waiting to spring out at anyone foolish enough to enter. Joker was unafraid, and Harley traveled between her two hyenas, confident they would be alerted to any form of danger.

Two men in clown masks guarded a door at the far end of the hallway. With the dim light barely able to drive back the surrounding darkness, the sharp angles of the masks made them look terrifying. The guards opened the door for Joker and stood back.

Hunched over a microscope in the only well lit room in the building, Wilkins was hard at work analyzing his latest chemical formula and its effects. He didn't even look up when he heard the door open.

"Make anything interesting?" Harley asked, popping a stick of bubblegum in her mouth.

Wilkins looked up. His eyes were bloodshot and dark circles had been forming under them for some time. His red hair hadn't been brushed since Harley had drafted him into service.

"Who ran you over with a bus?" Harley questioned.

"Sorry," Wilkins apologized, rubbing his eyes. "I have a habit of working long hours when I feel close to a breakthrough."

"Sounds exciting," Joker said.

"I've managed to stabilize the effects of the liquid form," Wilkins explained. He took a test tube filled with a green fluid from a small rack on the table and held it up for their inspection. "The effects can now be tailored for a specific duration depending on what catalyst is mixed in prior to exposure. I've also managed to maintain potency in the gas form."

Wilkins put the test tube back in its holder and handed Joker a pressurized cylinder.

"Because of the mixture used, you can adjust the intensity of the reaction," Wilkins went on. "You can do everything from mild amusement to laughter fits capable of straining muscles."

"Wow," Harley said.

"Could someone laugh themselves to death?" Joker questioned.

Wilkins hesitated before nodding an affirmative.

"How soon can you start mass producing it?" Harley inquired.

"I just need the proper facilities," Wilkins told her.

"The Batman should have other concerns as of late," she pointed out. "I don't see a problem in getting you back into Ace Chemical to finish your work. I'm sure your family is looking forward to seeing you again."

"You're actually going to let me go?" Wilkins asked.

"Of course," Joker confirmed. "A deal is a deal; you help us, we don't kill you or anyone you care about. It all works out for the best."

Harley put her arm around Wilkins' shoulders. "Besides, we might need your help again someday, and it would be difficult to get that help if you were dead."

"I, uh, made you something," Wilkins said as he quickly slipped out of Harley's hold on him. He stepped hurriedly over to a table along the wall and picked up a leather pouch the size of his fist. He held it out to her. "Knowing your sense of humor, I thought you might enjoy this."

Harley plucked the bag from his hands and opened it. A smile spread across her lips.

"It's perfect, you shouldn't have," Harley giggled.

"They detonate on impact," Wilkins explained. "The effective range is substantial, so be sure to take cover."

"Ah, Willie, you do care," Joker said with a wide grin. "Bottle up some of that laughing gas. We have some stubborn business owners to meet with."