Pamela Isley and Harley Quinn liked The Penguin but they weren’t his loyal compatriots. They were simply his partners and sometimes, as partners, they needed to put their foot down.
The Penguin wanted to kill Robin. They understood that. But before him sat a true opportunity to shock the city in a way that would truly leave everyone shaking in their boots. The Penguin was on a straight-and-narrow path but he lacked a vision for the legitimate psychological domination of Gotham.
The funeral was getting underway. Bagpipe players were starting to provide the procession of the iconic somber music that filled the heart with appropriate sorrow. And Harley Quinn and Pamela Isley, with a small army comprising of The Flock at their backs, waited in the archaic, drained underground sewer tunnels waiting to strike.
“So who are we going to kill again?” Harley Quinn asked, swinging her bat willy-nilly about her.
Pamela glanced at her. “Anyone you feel like, but keep the Commissioner alive. We have an appointment with her.”
Harley giggled. “Ooh, the boss is going to be so mad at us.”
“We don’t answer to him,” Pamela responded. “We’re just partners. We call the shots just as much as he does. And I’m making sure he realizes that today.”
Harley’s grin widened. “This is going to be so much fun.”
Pamela turned to the masked soldiers behind her. “You know your roles. Attack!”