(Writers note, this story isn't really about anything, just Harley. It jumps around a lot, and I just wanted to do it, but it is a fan fiction story, so this may or may not have happened to her.)

Harley Quinn, 27, in full costume sits on the floor next to a big purple throne. Her back is against the front of it, and her legs are stretched out and crossed at the ankles. The room is empty, and the lights are off, it's fairly dark, but moon light is coming in from the windows with the velvet curtains drawn. The floor is a marble, white and green checkered. And there are three steps leading up to where she sits. Her head is slightly tilted, and she's looking off. She turns towards the camera, "Oh hiya there." She smiles.

"I guess this was our empire, well this and much more. But this was our castle, our home."

She giggles softly, "Home….hmmm, what a nice word. I guess this was it." She stands up and looks around, "Wasn't it lovely?"

"But of course it was." Then she walks over to a window and opens it, "But that was our empire." Down below we see Gotham city lit up at night, the sight sound of the passing cars, the buildings with all their lights on, planes above, the people passing in the street, the faint sound of sirens.

She sighs, "I loved it. And it was all ours…His…"

Anthony Storr

Young doctor Quinzel, with her blonde hair up in a neat bun and her white button up shirt, with the black vest tightly over it, and the knee length tight black skirt with two quarter inch slits on the sides. There she was, black heels, one and a quarter inch in height, and her black framed glasses, just a tad to big sitting on her nose. She was walking up the front entrance of Arkham asylum with her cheep briefcase, and her used small black car, the make of which she could seldom remember, sitting in the parking lot.

Arkham asylum, she had passed it once or twice, and as when she drove by it she slowed down just a little, and she looked, she titled down her dark sunglasses and looked at it. There was one time she drove by at night, no one else was on that road and she stopped, and she just sat in her car a few minutes. The doors locked of course, she didn't want to be the victim in a horror movie. And she just sat there, wondering what Arkham was really like inside, how her shoes would sound on the floor, were the cells barred? Just little insignificant things that she couldn't help but wonder.

And she wondered who was in there, as in, the patients, who was in there right then, looking out there window, if they had one looking at her little black car and wondering who she was, why she was there. Then she put the car in drive and pulled away. But that was a long time ago.

Now she was actually there, and as she walked up to it, her heart raced, she felt that nervous jumpy butterfly feeling, and half wanted to turn and run the other way, the other half wanted to get in there as fast as she could, just to see if her heels made an echo on that floor. She stopped a second, and looked up at Arkham, it really was big, damned big. It was early that morning, and it reminded her of when she would see them taking the captured inmates back in at about this time in the morning after they ran ramped all night.

But Arkham, in it's own, in it's strange and dark way, scared her. It scared her because Arkham was a home, a home that she was about to go into. A home for madmen, for lunatics and psychopaths, and something about the place was both drawing her in and scarring her away. Part of her was wondering, if you lived in a place long enough, would you start to call it home? But even with that feeling in her heart and mind, she, dignified Dr. Harleen Quinzel went up to the door and rang the bell.

Dr. Joan Leland answered the door with a pleasant look, that calmed Harleen's nerves a little. Joan put out her hand saying, "I'm Dr. Joan Leland."

Harleen took her hand saying, "Harleen Quinzel, doctor that is. But call me Harley, everyone does."

Joan smiled, "Of course, it's a pleasure Harley."

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We see Harley Quinn again, still standing by the window, "Yeah, I guess that's how it all started…I even saw mistah J that same day."

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As they walked down the corridor, it's long and brightly lit with florescent lights. Joan looked to Harley, "So tell me Harley, what made you want to work here? I mean with the marks you got in school any place would be more than happy to take you."

Harleen smiled softly saying, "Well I'm not sure what it is, but Arkham just attracted me. It just has something…"

"Uh huh, well I hope you not looking to write a tell all books about certain 'super criminals' in here. Because this place isn't a resort for these people, if we can even call some of them that. It's a hospital, for the insane to be treated, not become our friends, or to be exposed."

"Joan," Harleen laughed gently, "really, is that how you think of me? I have good reasons for being here, and none of them have to do with writing books."

Joan smiled, "Well that's good, because these are hardcore psychopaths, and you are a young inexperienced doctor Harley, perfect for someone's idea of sick fun."

Harleen laughed again, "I think I can handle them Joan, I'm well trained."

Then Harleen turned to her right, and something caught her sight…It was the Joker, he was being evaluated by another doctor in a cell with a glass front. Joker sat hand cuffed, ankle cuffed and carefully watched, as a doctor across from him was asking him questions and showing pictures. Harleen stopped a second, he was very different than she had seen, even on TV. Something about him being maybe five feet away, was strange, and sent those butterflies flapping away their little wings.

That dark green hair, loose, a little curly on some ends, rather messy right then, his skin really was chalk white, and his lips a crimson red. Then he turned and looked at her, with a smile, it sent a shiver down Harleen's whole body, those stunning, deep green eyes and that smile, were there words to describe him. Grotesque, not the adjective for ugly, no but fantastic, bizarre. But ugly, no never. The sight of him was startling, or more than that even, amazing.

Then as he looked at her with eyes that could kill, he mouthed something. At first she wasn't sure what…but sure enough, it was, 'Harley.' He slowly opened his mouth, and past his crimson lips and dangerous looking teeth the dark pink tongue moved, and so did his lovely blood red lips. Harleen had stopped listing to Joan, or she had stopped talking one of the two. Joker smiled again, looking at her, almost through her, as if he wasn't looking at her at all. Then he just turned away, just turned away. Joan tapped on Harleen's shoulder, "Harley, Harley??" She had been saying.

Harleen turned back to Joan, "Yes?"

"Are you okay?"

"Yes just…just…just watching that doctor work is all." Harleen smiled.

"Of course."

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Again we see Harley Quinn, only now she's over by the purple throne and tracing the name carved in gold at the top of it, J O K E R slowly and carefully with a delicate gloved finger, then she looks back at us, "Yeah, that was the first time I ever saw him. But the first time we met was much better, after I found that rose from him, he's always been so sweet." She sighs softly, "After I found that lovely red rose, I thought I would go see him. It's a little different than they said it in Mad Love, he's a madman, a very dangerous one, he's kept a little tighter." She laughs softly, "I think I might have fallen in love with him as soon as I walked into that cell…"

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Doctor Quinzel was walking carefully up a large flight of steel stairs, the heels on the black shoes clicking softly as she made her way to 'maximum security', it was printed in bold black letters on the steel door. A guard opened it and before he could speak she said, "Hi," Pulled out her new ID and showed him, "Dr. Quinzel, may I come in?"

He looked oddly at her a second saying, "I didn't get a call from the front telling me you were coming in here, who do you need to see?"

"Oh, I'm sorry. They didn't tell you? You know Susan at the front, she probably took another five minute break without calling you. I'm going to get on her that." Harleen smiled a very friendly smile as she lied through her teeth with perfect ease.

He laughed too saying, "Yeah, Susan and her five minutes. Hey aren't you new?"

"Yeah, I am. Harleen Quinzel, but call me Harley." She said extending her hand.

He took her hand with a smile saying, "I'm Dan Bugeotto."

Harleen smiled, "It's a real pleasure Dan." And as she leaned slightly on her right foot she said, "I see why they put you on maximum security, your so built, you must have to work out all the time."

He smiled and blushed a little, "Oh well now and then."

"Oh don't be modest, you look wonderful, your wife's a lucky women."

"Oh well I'm not married." He said pushing back the reddish hair with a smile.

"No? Well that's a pleasant surprise."

"Yeah well-"

Then she interjected saying, "I sure would love to talk with you for hours, but I'm going to get in trouble unless I can get in there and talk to a patient."

He then quickly opened the door all the way for her to come in and with a smile he said, "So who do you need to see?"

"Oh well, no body too important…couldn't you just give me the keys? It would be quicker that way."

"I'd love to…but I can't, it's against the rules."

Then she pouted out of her lip, "Oh darn…that's just a darn pity, well that's okay. I'll just have to work Saturday night to finish up this report."

"Well I could still go with you."

"No, no, it just won't work. This patient, see, he can only have one person in the room at a time, or he won't talk."

"Oh, who is he?"

Harleen smiled again then she sighed, "If you could give me the key, I promise I'll be really quick. You seem like such a nice guy, and I'm really starting to like you. I'd hate to loose my job because I can't get this patient to respond…"

"Well, okay. Just this once though, and make it really quick."

She grabbed the key from his hand saying, "Thanks Dan." It worked, but of course it worked, it always worked, she was a blonde dynamo, always had been, always got her way as long as a man was in charge, she wanted to laugh a little. But she didn't.

She continued down the long hall, with the flickering lights, as her shoes sounded suddenly so loud, and she could almost hear her heart beating in her chest, her red blood pumping with anticipation, fear, excitement, a thrilling sensation was running through her hot blood stream as she walked slowly down the hall, door after door with the name on a little plaque in black bold letters.

One right, passing another guard, till she was there. She saw the name at least four feet before she was there, 'The Joker'. She took a breath and fumbling slightly with the key she put it in, turned it, and herd it click, it was open. Her heart was pounding in her ears now, and she had to keep herself from shaking. She opened the door a little and looked in, it was dark, she swallowed hard and walked in shutting the door behind her. The only light was the pale moon light from the small barred window, the floor, the walls, all padded.

It made it hard for her to stand perfectly still, her heels were digging into the rubber padding. There she was, and she realized standing there, that he could kill her, he could be behind her, slash her throat, and she didn't know where he was in the room. But the excitement, the thrill, and anticipation killed the fear almost. Because if she feared him she couldn't stay in there and talk to him, it would drive her crazy.

Then she composed herself saying, "May I turn on a light?"

Before she could speak again a dim light flicked on, and there standing before her, misery turned to beauty, or madness, the Joker was standing before her. He was taller than she had expected, he was at least a head taller than she was, and he was so very close, she almost jumped or screamed. As she slowly looked up, and looked into those almost paralyzing green eyes, those eyes that were taking everything she had to look into them. There he was, closer than a foot, maybe five inches away from her, any closer and she could hear his heart beating.

His jade hair messy, and a few curls in his face, his skin had a lucid look, to it, almost a translucent look. The whiteness of his skin made his scarlet lips look deathly, bright, and show up first and foremost on his face. He did not have his signature smile on his face, only a soft grin played his lips. And Harleen realized, there standing before her was this psychopathic madman, this lunatic who murderer hundreds, maybe more with laughter, in inhuman ways, there he was. The extremity of any human being, this man that was the true extremity of a human, the very thing we fear in ourselves he let run free and ramped. He was perhaps the limit of madness, and yet Harleen couldn't really conceive the idea that he, this monster that paraded the news paper pages and tortured doctors, she couldn't conceive that right then he could kill her Yet she wasn't sure why not..

She, right then, was captured for a moment, spellbound in his eyes, then shaking it off she spoke firmly holding out the rose saying, "Might I ask how this got in my office?"

He smiled now, teeth and all saying, "I put it there."

'The world was right,' she thought, 'that smile is horrible, it's terrifying, it stretches from ear to ear…it's the perfect embodiment of madness, yet, some how, it's almost sweet…..perhaps.'

"I think the guards and Dr. Arkham would like to know you've been out of your cell."

"If you were really going to tell them, then why are you here?" Then she softly but sharply snapped the rose from her hand, a thorn on the rose cut into her flash causing a small cut. A tiny droplet of blood fell from it and hit the padded floor with the loudest splash that no one heard, and Harleen gasped slightly. The sight of blood right then, it was just unnerving, it was life, it was death, it was as red as his lips were.

The Joker laughed a little bit saying, "I just wanted to see you before I made any more plans."

"Plans about what?" She asked swallowing again.

"I just like your name is all…Harleen Quinzel." Then his smile softened and he reached out about to touch her, to brush her face or hair with his gloveless hand, but as her eyes fallowed his hand, he stopped suddenly, and brought his hand back saying, "Rework it a bit and you get Harley Quinn, or Harlequin, the very spirit of mischief and fun."

She almost smiled, almost, then she said, "Well if that's all, please stay out of my office."

"What if you invite me?"

"Why would I do that?"

"Because I'm looking for the right doctor, one to talk to, to listen to my story, hear all the things I can't tell anyone else."

Harleen perked up as he said that, then she turned and walked out of the cell, his laughter echoed off as she quickly made her way down the hall. Her breath was taken, her heart racing as well as her mind, and she just wanted to be in her office, door shut, to think.

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We see Harley Quinn again, sitting on the arm of the chair, the room is so empty her every word seems to echo, it seems so empty, and so cold. She smiles faintly and almost painfully, " 'Take me, I am a drug; take me, I am a hallucinogenic.' That was Salvador Deli who said that, but it reminds me of mistah J…because I did, and he was, and here I am because of it. But there was true magic the first time I put on the costume, magic that I still feel every time I have it on. I was addicted to him, because he made me higher than I had ever been before. He took away my problems, and my life, and the reality I dreaded with each waking moment."

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" How strange to have failed as a social creature-even criminals do not fail that way-they are the law's "Loyal Opposition", so to speak. But the insane are always mere guests on earth, eternal strangers carrying around broken dialogues that they cannot read." -F. Scott Fitzgerald.

Dr. Quinzel sat next to Joker on the sofa, his arm around her casually and he said, "Do you really like this?"

"Like what?"

"Like pretending to be a doctor."

"I'll have you know I'm not pretending, see that paper over there on the wall," she points, "that paper says I am a real doctor."

"If everyone went around listening to everything paper said just think of all the shit toilet paper would say." He chuckled a little at that.

Harleen laughed softly, then he said, "But really, do you like being a doctor?"

"Oh well it's my job, and my life," then she cuddled up to him, "plus I get to see you a lot." She smiled at him.

Then he looked at her with a quizzical look, "But don't you find it restricting?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, don't you wish you had the option."

"The option for what?" She asked looking loving but confused.

"Well just the option, the freedom, the freedom to take a mettle bat and repeatedly beat someone in the head with it cracking open their scull?"

She only laughed.

Then he looking at her a tad too seriously as he said, "Don't you just wish you could walk into Dr. Arkham's office and flip him off saying, 'Fuck you.' Don't you just want to tell the world to fuck off?"

Again she just laughed.

"I'm serious Harley, listen damn it," he said shaking her a little, "are you listening?!?"

"Y-yes I'm listening."

"Don't you just want to take a rusty pair of pliers and a really leaky pall point pen, and find that certain fucker that made fun of you or laughed at you and laugh in his fucking face while you show him what's really fucking funny?" He was getting all excited, then he laughed again.

"I can't."

"You can't want to? You can't do that? Or you can't wish that you wanted to?"

"I-I-….."

"

Wouldn't you just love to take a chain saw to all those boys in high school and college who fucked you and dumped you on the corner of your street and never called, wouldn't you just love to fuck them the way they fucked you, only with a fucking butcher knife!!?!" He laughed again quite hysterically like there was a very funny joke just made.

Harley didn't say anything.

He took her face into his hands and looked to her eyes and smiled, then he said very softly, "Wouldn't you love it if I could give you that option, if you could just say fuck you world, and laugh at everyone who ever laughed at you while they stair down the barrel of your shot gun?" It was so calm, so relaxed, and normal the way he said it, it was chilling.

"Yes." She said very completely and surly, as if she had been wanting to give that answer her whole life.

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We see Harley again putting wrapping a women in duct tape while the women tries to scream and kick, "That was my very first taste of real life, of what it's like to be free enough to do whatever you want. I was never his victim, Bonnie was never Clyde's victim, Mallory wasn't Micky's victim, and I was never mistah J's victim. He was my salvation, he took me away from that life and gave me a new one, he gave me the option I had never been offered before in my whole life. He looked me dead in the eyes and said, 'Harley Baby, I want to give you the option to tell the world to fuck off, then kill them all with a smile, because everyone deserves that option.'

"Don't you think that's true? Everyone should at least be given that option, he never forced me to kill anyone, to break him out, he never forced me to have a blood lust, he just gave me the option, I took it."

**********************************************************************

John Lennon

Dr. Arkham's office, he is sitting behind his desk and Dr. Quinzel is sitting opposite of him with her hands in her lap. Dr. Arkham wait's a second before saying, "Dr. Quinzel…we've been having some problems with you."

She smiled a worried smile, "What do you mean?"

"Well we've had some complaints about you and certain maleficence acts."

"What do you mean doctor?"

"Well Harleen, you see, we have been…eh, well we've had some complaints about you….then there is this security tape." As he pulls a tape from under his desk and slides it over to her.

She looked terrified and nervous, and like anyone who has been caught doing something they shouldn't, "What have the complains been against me?"

"Well, we think you've been spending too much time with a certain patient…and then there was rumors, and then this tape." He picks it up again and slips it into a VCR with a small TV on top of it. Then he hits the play button.

"What is this tape of?"

"Of a session you had with a certain patient."

"You video tapped my sessions?!?"

"No, just this one, because of the rumors we heard."

"You can't tape someone with out telling them!!"

"Actually we can, we just can't record their voice with out telling them. So the tape lacks audio, ah it's coming on."

Harley looks nervously at the small TV twisting her white coat in her hands, and just hoping this isn't what she thinks it is.

It shows Harleen come into her office, Joker cuffed on a small sofa, a guard says something to her, she smiles says a few things, he looks like he's protesting, she smiles again saying something else, then she shuts the door. Joker lays down on the sofa, legs crossed at the ankles, he smiles and says something, she laughs then she puts her finger up to her mouth meaning to be quite. He laughs again, then he says something, snaps his fingers, she goes over and he sits up and pulls her down onto the sofa, where they kiss a second, before he pulls a bobby pin from her hair and processed to pick the lock on his cuffs and toss them aside.

Harleen is flushed and her cheeks are a brimming red as she said, "Doctor! No need to continue looking at this tape!"

"Oh isn't there? Care to tell me what happens after or should we keep playing it?"

Then she reaches over and hits stop, and about to eject it he grabs her wrist saying, "I think I'll be keeping that take Ms. Quinzel."

"Dr. Arkham, please, it's really not how it looks."

"Then please enlighten me, be so kind to tell me how it is?"

"Well….um, I have a very good explanation for everything." Still dignified and composed Harleen Quinzel.

"Well then what is it?"

"As soon as I tell you, you'll understand completely."

"Please Ms. Quinzel, the suspense is killing me." He says in a dull and aggravated tone.

"Okay, okay….I guess you got me, but at least it's not as bad as it looks, I mean I admit that I'm in love with the Joker, that much is true. But really it's not affecting my work as a doctor at all, I mean the idea that it could is laughable really." Then she laughs softly, "See?"

"Well one thing I know for sure is that since you've been working here he has escaped twice as much, been far more unruly, and far less punished for it…what progress are you making exactly with him?"

"Well, he hasn't killed half as many inmates, guards or doctors." She says with a hopeful smile.

"Yes that's true…but he's killed about five hundred people outside this asylum because he gets out so often, so we save twenty guards and loose a couple hundred others."

"Okay, well he's working on that whole murder thing, I just need more time."

"No, no more time. I called you in here three months ago, told you it was dangerous to spend so much time with Joker, you told me you had him under control and you just needed three more months."

"But I do have him under control!!"

"Yes I see that Ms. Quinzel, by the way you do as he asks at the snap of his finger, I see how under control you have him." He says sarcastically while getting out some papers, "Ms. Quinzel, I think you're a very nice women, and I did like you very much, but you need help, very serious help." Then he handed her a few papers.

She looked at them, unemployment forms, then she looked back at him. "Your firing me?"

"I'm sorry, but yes, you can not do this job…I also have to revoke your license as a doctor."

"Why! That's outrageous, I haven't done anything that bad!! Your ruining my whole career!"

"No Ms. Quinzel, you ruined your career, the Joker ruined your career. Go get some professional help and maybe you can get your license back."

Then she stood up, "Good day doctor." and she turned and walked out of his office slamming the door. She leaned against the door for a second, then she went to her office and with tears in her eyes she put her belongings in a small brown box, the files, the pictures, everything in the box. Her hand hovered over a picture of Joker, large print, glossy, black and white. She looked it over for a second with hurt eyes and agony, her warm salty tears tinkled down her smooth face and dropped on her desk with a small splash.

Then she grabbed the box and headed out of her office, she wouldn't even get to see Joker one more time, it would be the last time she heard her heels click on the floor, and she walked out with her head held high, with dignity and grace, and everything she always had, and she reached the door, let herself out and walked a few steps before turning around to look back on Arkham. She stood there a few moments thinking she would never be back, that she would never see Joker again…that right then the only thing she wanted was to be in there with him.

She continued to her car and took a slow drive home with tears running down her face the whole time, she parked her car in front of her small apartment and got out carrying the box with her, she fumbled with the keys until she found the right one shoving it in and turning it until the door opened, she pushed the door open with her shoulder and tossed the box to the floor slamming the door behind her. She threw herself in a near by white chair, the apartment was a plain place, whites, tans, browns, blacks, no flair or personal style just another identical drone apartment like all the others, just the perfectly normal place.

She pulled off the white high heeled shoes and threw them, not caring where they landed. She pulled the pins from her hair and threw them into the floor letting her bleached blonde hair flow gently down her small shoulders. She took of her coat and let it drop to the floor as well, right then she didn't have it in her to care where those things went, then she looked down at the floor, her coat and shoes and everything just laying there in chaos on the short cut blue carpet.

She watched them a few minutes as they just laid there, then she stood up and removed her white blouse and threw it, and an idea came to her, so she removed her skirt and did the same with it. Everything just laid there, it didn't move, it didn't complain, it was completely out of order, it was chaos in the world of clothes, no closest no hangers, no folding, nothing. Harleen stood there, her blonde hair hanging on her shoulders and down her back standing in her black panties and bra, in her cream and white living room

With the twilight sun light showing in gently from the half way open blinds, or were they half way shut?

And the idea that Ms. Quinzel had right then was something she had never thought about before, it was a new and strange idea, one she wondered if it was possible it could work. She glanced around the room a moment before she picked up the white lamp with it's small black shade and walked into the kitchen where there was tile, she grabbed the cord and yanked it from the wall. She cradled the small lamp gently in her warm and loving arms, then with one violent motion she threw it as hard as she could into the tile floor.

It shattered, it's white ceramic body crushed, small and large pieces of it's being cascaded on the floor with a loud piercing sound, and that satisfying crunch. Harleen titled her head slightly and looked at it now destroyed and broken on the floor for no reason, it would never light the room again, the light bulb busted, the lamp was nothing now. And as she looked at it's shattered remains she realized what she was hoping she would, the fact that she destroyed the lamp did not matter, it didn't matter that it was broken, that it would never light up again, it didn't matter that she broke it for no reason.

Because there was this strange, odd sense that for the first time in her life she could do things. You see it's odd feeling, especially if you never before felt it before. It's looking at the world with new eyes, in a way that you knew you can do anything you want, you might get arrested for it, you might get stopped, but the point is you can. And knowing that you can do anything you choose to do, is a very liberating and yet dangerous realization. Because right then Harley knew she could hold a 12 gauge shot gun and empty bullet after bullet into someone, not because she wanted to, or even that she would, but she realized she could.

She could take a base ball bat and break every piece of furniture in her house, it wouldn't matter, the furniture would just be broken, the world would not end, and she could, for the first time ever she knew that she could do anything in the world. It was exhilarating, and she quickly tore open the cabinet and grabbed every nice little glass plate and cup and bowl and smashed them, into the floor and the counter and even into each other. The glass cut into her hands a bit, but that didn't matter either, she wouldn't die from a few small cuts, of course she wouldn't!

And she could break everything if she wanted to! She went into her bedroom and grabbed her biggest pair of high heels and threw them out the window! You see it didn't matter, it just didn't matter anymore! She could do anything, it was amazing, then she sat down on her bed giggling and laughing, and suddenly she stopped, and now knowing she could do anything, yes anything at all, what did she really want to do?

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Harley Quinn is holding a shot gun in right hand, she smiles at us and licks her shiny lips covered in black lipstick, "You probably want to know what I'm doing with this pretty baby huh?" She smirks, "Well I think I need to show you something, it's very important."

Then she turns and we see the women tied up with gray duct tape, her cries are muffled and she tried to struggle but that's no use as well. Harley holds the shot gun up and holds it to her shoulder tightly as she aims, she sets it, cla clunk. Then she says while aiming, "The point isn't that I am doing this, but that I can." The women's tangled red hair is covered in sweat and she's crying.

"You see, I don't want to kill her, in fact I'd like to untie her and set her walking with a couple bucks, but that's not how we do things around here. Mistah J left her here trusting I would take good care of her, and that's what I'm going to do. I'm a predator kinda, know what I'm saying? Bigger animals eat little animals, that's me, I kill because I have to, because she's there and I was told to, because it feels good to pull the trigger, like sinking nice big teeth into yummy flesh. I'm trained to attack on cue, it's not something I would be doing so much if any with out him, but I had the potential, we all have the potential, don't say not you. Because yes you too, from the very minute we our born we have the potential to kill, you see it's not that we have the choice to or not to kill that really separates us from the animals, it's not that we don't need to kill, lust to kill, want to at one point or another, it's just that the animals do it for food, and some of us, we do it for kicks." She giggled.

"I do this because I am trained to do so, I have been given a lust for blood, because right now it's my job. But you know, mistah J, he's not a predator, he's not either hunting or getting hunted, running or chasing. He does this, I mean he blows people's brains out and slowly saws through flash and blood and meat very slowly with a rusty old saw through bone, he does that because-"

Then she looks over at us, "Because he likes to." Then she turns back to the women and pulls the trigger. The bullet leaves the shot gun with a hot fast speed and enters her chest with a bang! Her hot sticky blood splatters on the wall and floor, Harley sets it again, cla clunk, and pulls the trigger again, cla clunk, once more. The women's head drops and her body goes limp, her clothes are soaked in her own red blood, and blood has splattered and splashed on the floor and the back of the wall, the empty shells lay at Harley's feet.

"There you see, she's dead now, I've killed her, and I have to mop the floor and clean the wall in a few minutes before the blood dries." Her high pitched voice brimming with an accent and girlish glee, "You can't understand how I could do that unless you've done it," she drops the gun, "it's a strange feeling, the freest feeling you can ever feel, cla clunk," She giggles.

Human kind
Cannot bear very much reality.