He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not

Chapter 5

The Joker whistled, flipping a pancake. It landed in the pan, much to Bud and Lou's disappointment, who were standing by him, wagging their tails and waiting for him to drop more than the several he already had.

"This ain't so hard," he said, putting down the pan on the burner. "I dunno why Harley can't get the hang of cooking – it ain't rocket science. I guess it's because she's a dumb blonde, huh, boys?"

The hyenas barked, drooling. "Hey, shut up, you stupid mutts!" shouted Joker, rounding on them. "You'll wake her up!"

"Mmm...puddin'?" called a voice sleepily from the other room.

"Y'see?! I told you!" snapped Joker, leaving the kitchen and entering the bedroom. Harley beamed at him, but her face fell in confusion when she saw that he was wearing her apron.

"Puddin', what..." she began, but Joker interrupted her.

"No talking, pooh, just relax and open wide, as I said to you last Valentine's Day," he chuckled, reaching into his pocket and popping a thermometer in her mouth.

He withdrew it and glanced at it, smiling. "Yeah, you're doing just fine. Don't have a fever or nothing. At least I don't think you do – don't really know how to read one of these," he said, tossing the thermometer over his shoulder.

"Are you...cooking, puddin'?" asked Harley, astonished.

"Yeah, making pancakes for breakfast," he said, nodding. "You like pancakes, doncha, pooh?"

"Oh...yeah, sure, puddin'," said Harley, slowly. "I didn't know you could cook."

He shrugged. "You find the recipe in the cookbook and follow it. It's not difficult for some of us, but then I suppose we can't all be geniuses, can we, pumpkin? No, the world needs stupid people too, sweets, to do all the tedious chores we great minds can't be bothered to do," he said, patting her on the head. "So don't you feel bad for being thick."

Bud and Lou suddenly began barking from the kitchen. "I told you mutts to shut up!" he shouted. "Harley don't need all this racket when she's trying to recover! Put a sock in it before I break your vocal cords!"

They kept barking desperately. "Is that...smoke, puddin'?" asked Harley, looking toward the door.

Joker leapt to his feet. "The pancakes!" he cried, racing out. Harley heard a clatter, and then a roar of agony. "Son of a...!"

Joker had clearly just picked up the pan without realizing how hot it would be. This was followed by a torrent of swearing, and whining from Bud and Lou as they attempted to nuzzle him. Harley waited patiently for the chaos to subside, and then Joker appeared in her room again, clutching a bandaged hand.

"You'd prefer cereal for breakfast, wouldn't you, pooh?" he asked, smiling.

"Yeah, puddin'," agreed Harley.

"That's my girl! Got a nice bowl of Frosted Flakes all poured for you! They're grrrreat!" he said, placing the bowl on the nightstand. "Now you just lie still and let me feed you, sweets, before the cereal goes all mushy."

He sat down, picking up a spoonful of cereal and putting it to her lips. The phone rang at that moment, but Joker ignored it, helping her eat.

"You ain't...gonna answer that, puddin'?" asked Harley, slowly.

"Cereal will get all mushy, pooh," repeated Joker. "And nobody likes that."

"I actually like it better that way," said Harley. "Gives the sugar a chance to really seep into the milk."