Joker's Wild Card: Harley Quinn's Twisted Game

The flickering neon sign outside cast stripes of purple and green across the worn linoleum floor of the abandoned warehouse. Harley Quinn perched on a rickety stool, swinging her legs restlessly and humming a tune that sounded suspiciously like “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star” but with a decidedly more manic edge. Her bright red lips twisted into a grin as she watched Joker pace around a pool of stale beer light filtering in through a grimy skylight, casting long shadows across his grinning face. He’d been doing this for the better part of an hour, muttering about "playing the game" and how "Miss Harleen needed a little… refresher." Every so often, he'd stop, pull out a playing card from his sleeve - always the Queen of Hearts - and shove it into her hand with a guttural laugh. “Think you’re ready for round two, puddin’?” His voice was thick with amusement that bordered on cruelty. She couldn’t help rolling her eyes. He’d already dragged her through three rounds of his twisted