Dr. Harleen Quinzel’s view:
What have I been doing all this time? Why am I imprisoned? Why am I kissing that freak The Joker?
I look at him in horror. He is my patient, what the hell is he doing? I push him away. He strikes me. I have a baseball bat. I’m not sure where I got it or why I have it, but I am glad I do. With all my might I hit him in the face. The Batman is here. I turn to him for help, but he chases after me. He is treating me as a criminal — so I run. I run as fast as I can.
I duck into an alley. What the hell is going on?
I wander the streets. For the life of me I can’t figure out why I am costumed as a common street whore. I don’t want to, but I steal some clothing.
I find a newspaper.
I am wanted?
The Joker and I are “the king and queen of Gotham?”
I have nowhere to go. I can’t go to the police. I am on the streets for months. I am eating out of dumpsters. I must be into someone else’s territory. I am surrounded by four thugs. I try to talk to them. I try to reason with them.
They grab me. One of them hits me in the head.
Harley Quinn’s view:
Who were those guys? Why were they attacking me? It doesn’t matter, they got theirs. But where they hell am I?
I’ve lost track of time. Has it been a month?
I can’t remember.
The last memory I have is my puddin breaking me out. He wouldn’t take the espresso machine — the bastard, but I was happy to see him. I was freed.
We were just outside the gait when this red streaky thing showed up, followed soon by The Bat.
We got separated. I fought hard, but I don’t know, I just can’t remember. And, why am I dressed like a republican?
The woman can take care of herself. We have been keeping an eye on her. She is the one from the news, the Joker’s woman. She seems scared, alone. The disciples report back to me and I arrive just in time. She is surrounded by four pretty big men. I am about to act, but her personality seems to shift. She switches from victim to aggressor.
She dispatches those four men as swiftly as any of my thirteen could have.<