22: Rival for Control

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The van pulled up in front of a bakery. Joker and Harley got out and walked into the store.

The scents of freshly baked bread, confectioner sugar, and cinnamon filled the air with aromas powerful enough to cause pangs of hunger even in those who'd recently eaten. Black and white tiles covered the floor in a checkerboard pattern under the stainless steel tables and their matching chairs cushioned in red vinyl. A metal topped counter, a glass window in front to show all the baked goods waiting on trays inside, divided the room in half between the customer seating area and the visible kitchen in the back.

The heavyset woman behind the counter, green apron covered in a fine dusting of flour, looked over the odd pair as they entered her store. Harley was still attired in her black and red jester outfit while Joker wore his purple suit. Anywhere but Gotham, and the duo would've been stared at by every person on the street. However, so many weird things happened in the city, the bakery owner barely raised an eyebrow.

"Can I help you?" she asked, stepping away from her worktable and over to counter.

"Yes," Joker confirmed. "I'll take one store with everything."

The woman was not impressed, her eyes narrowing, but before she could order them out, Joker produced a slender canister of laughing gas from inside his jacket and opened the valve in her direction. Both Harley and Joker held their breath, but the woman inhaled sharply in surprise as the green cloud enveloped her head. She began to chuckle as Joker closed the valve and put the canister away.

"Feel like selling me the store now?" Joker questioned.

"Why not?" the woman laughed. She had to lean on the counter to catch her breath. "It sounds like fun."

Harley handed over a contract and pen, but the woman had difficulty signing it as her hand was shaking too much from laughing. Harley put a hand over hers to steady the owner as she signed over the bakery to the ownership of Joker and Harley.

"Thank you very much," Joker told the woman. "I do appreciate your business."

"Any particular reason you wouldn't sign before?" Harley queried.

"Met a guy the other day, real scary," the former owner said before bursting into a fit of laughter again. "He said he was in charge. Didn't have me sign anything but said he'd unleash my worst nightmares if I didn't obey. Right now, I can't imagine what those could be as I've never felt better in my life."

Joker started to leave but paused and turned back to the woman. "By the way, who was this scary fellow?"

"He wore a burlap sack over his face," the woman answered while gasping for breath. "Called himself Scarecrow, the Master of Terror."

The woman leaned over the cash register for support while giggling uncontrollably.

"You may have used a little too much, Mr. J," Harley suggested.

"Perhaps a touch, but oh well," Joker replied. "She's having a good day, and so are we. Come on, we have few more stops to make, and I need to find out about this Scarecrow."

***

Joker and Harley went door to door with their campaign of laughter and business takeovers. One by one, the owners all signed after a breath of laughing gas. They also told the same story about a man called Scarecrow giving the orders and putting fear into everyone in the city. No one had reported the intimidation at the time as they'd been too scared to risk crossing the unknown criminal and risk reprisal against them, their families, or their businesses. As each of them became happier, the store owners lost their fears and easily complied with Joker's wishes.

"Ya know, Mr. J," Harley commented as they returned to the van. "When the gas wears off, some of these people might decide to go to the police."

"True," Joker agreed. "It's why I sent the boys in blue a little care package. It might slow police response time on emergencies, but I've instructed the boys to listen in to the police frequency and respond to anything important."

"That's really nice of you, Mr. J," Harley praised.

"We're here to take over the city," Joker responded. "We can't conquer a city of grave markers. So, it stands to reason we need to protect the public ourselves if possible. After all, what's the point of telling a joke if there's no one around to laugh about it?"

"Good point, and I got a feeling this Scarecrow isn't a very funny fellow," Harley cautioned. "I even suspect he has no sense of humor at all. He's probably going to be mad when he finds out what we've done."

"Yeah," Joker grinned. "It should make him come out in the open where we can brighten his day."

"All the time we were scooping up gangs and taking down Penguin and Bane, he was tightening a grip on the people of Gotham," Harley reminded. "He plans ahead, so he might be ready for resistance."

"He might be ready for sane resistance," Joker countered. "That hasn't applied to either one of us in some time, and I seriously doubt he'll be ready for what we have to offer. I think our only real problem will be in finding him."

"I know of someone you might want to start with," Harley suggested. "Back at Arkham, I met a doctor there who specialized in fears and phobias. He created a gas to eliminate fear, so I wouldn't be surprised if he could make one to increase it."

"Sounds like just the man I want to talk to," Joker grinned. "What's his name?"

"Jonathan Crane," Harley told him.

"We'll hand off the gas to the boys," Joker decided. "They'll continue taking over Gotham while we track down Crane."

"May I make a suggestion, Puddin'?" Harley asked.

"Of course, Harley," Joker instantly agreed.

"If we need help tracking someone down, we could use some more advanced gear," Harley began. "The most advanced tech is at Wayne Enterprises. Since we're taking over all business, why don't we start at the top with Bruce Wayne?"

"We'd have his money and all his fancy toys," Joker continued with delighted glee, rubbing the long fingers of his hands together in anticipation.

"Who knows, we might even use his stuff to find which hospital Batman is recovering in?" Harley finished.

"Let's go pay that stuffed shirt a visit," Joker suggested. Starting the van, he drove to a meeting place with some of the gang members to hand off the canisters of laughing gas before heading toward the distant tower of Wayne Enterprises.

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