Irresponsible You

"Fascinating," muttered Jonathan Crane, otherwise known as the Scarecrow, as he sat watching a mass of maggots devouring the rotting corpse of the lab rat he had subjected to his latest fear gas experiment. "The fear toxin which remains in the rat's bloodstream has been ingested by these maggots, and now they too react in terror, fleeing and leaving their meal half eaten. I'm glad to have proven that my toxin is so powerful, it affects even the simplest minds, my beauty. You never know how simple the minds are in Gotham."

The raven named Lenore perched on his shoulder cawed its approval, watching the maggots with its shiny black eyes. "No, you're not going to eat them," retorted Crane. "If they have fear toxin in their system, I'm not going to risk exposing your system to them. We'll get you some other insects for a snack."

Lenore ruffled her feathers, chirping in disappointment. "Fine, I'll get them now," he sighed, heading toward the refrigerator. "Cockroaches or maggots?"

Lenore cawed again. "Maggots, yes, I think so," he said, picking up a plastic bag and reaching inside to withdraw some insects, which the raven eagerly devoured. "You like that, my precious, don't you?" cooed Crane, stroking the bird's feathers. "It's the circle of life – maggots who feast on dead flesh are a source of life and sustenance, as we all are after death. Nature itself is a pageant of life and death playing out all around us at all time, the fear of death a constant companion of every living organism…"

The door to his laboratory opened suddenly. "My darling, I'm sorry to interrupt you when you're monologuing, but I wonder if you could come give me a hand with the children," said Emilia Crane.

"Of course, my love," said Crane, as Lenore flew over to her perch. "Just let me wash my hands first – I've been feeding Lenore and handling rat corpses."

"Hopefully not at the same time," retorted Emilia, handing their baby son Irving to him as he emerged from his laboratory. "I'm sorry, but Annabel's being very clingy and I just can't focus on both of them at once."

"You'll note I'm quietly reading in the corner," said their eldest daughter, Katrina, looking up from her book.

"Yes, well done, my darling," said her father, taking off his Scarecrow mask and bending down to kiss her. "That's very helpful."

"I don't know why young children need attention all the time," commented Katrina.

"Well, they're very dependent, aren't they?" said Crane, rocking Irving in his arms. "As all young creatures are. Most mammals carry their baby offspring attached to them constantly, like monkeys. So at least they're more developed than that."

"I don't know why you bother having children," retorted Katrina, returning to her book. "They seem like more trouble than they're worth."

"Yes, well, they're not, Katrina," retorted Emilia, as she seated Annabel in her lap, who was chattering happily. "Your father and I are very happy to have all of you."

"Yes, indeed," agreed Crane. "However unexpected you all were, you've been the kind of surprise that exceeded all my expectations."

"Unexpected?" repeated Katrina, looking up at him. "How can you have children unexpectedly?"

"You just…can," stammered Crane. "But unexpected doesn't mean unwanted…"

"You mean having children can just happen to anyone randomly, whether they want them or not?" interrupted Katrina, suddenly panicked. "I could just be sitting here and a baby could just appear out of the blue?"

"No, my darling, that's not how it works," said Emilia. "But thank you, Jonathan, for scaring the child by giving her the idea that she could randomly become a parent."

"No, not until you're much older, my darling," said Crane. "And when you're older, children are a blessing to be thankful for, and one I never thought I'd have in my life. I thank my lucky stars for the miracle of you three."

"You should be thanking me," retorted Emilia. "I did most of the work, after all."

"And I do, my angel," he replied, kissing her. "Every day."

There was a knock on the door. "Oh good, visitors, just what we want," said Crane, sarcastically. "I'm sure whoever it is will calm things down."

"Guess again," sighed Emilia, opening the door to reveal the Joker, Harley Quinn, and their twin children, Arleen and J.J.

"You forgot we had a playdate scheduled, didn't you?" asked Harley, noticing the confusion in Emilia's eyes.

"Oh Lord, I did," she sighed. "I'm sorry, Harley…"

"That's ok – we didn't wanna come anyway," interrupted Joker. "I got a million things to do to fight the Bat, and chaos beckons, so we'll just go…"

"No, no, no, come in," said Emilia, holding open the door. "It'll be good for Katrina to put down her book and play for a little while."

"I don't want to," retorted Katrina. "My book is more interesting than these people."

"How many times have I thought that?" sighed Crane.

"Yeah, and that's why you nearly ended up dying alone," retorted Joker.

"Jonathan, remember, we agreed that it would be good for Katrina to socialize with children her own age?" asked Emilia. "So that perhaps she doesn't have the experiences with people that scarred us?"

"She'll get those experiences associating with certain people anyway," retorted Crane. "Certain clown people. Anyway, being bullied was not my fault."

"No," agreed Emilia. "But it's always good to practice dealing with different types of people. And most children Katrina's age would prefer to play than read."

"We can read books if you want," spoke up Arleen.

"Yeah, we brought Daddy's," said J.J., holding up a book. "The Joker: Hero of Gotham City. It's about how he beats up Batman every time they fight."

"Oh, is that what happens?" asked Crane, skeptically. "And what lessons do you learn from that book?"

"I don't approve of books teaching kiddies lessons, Craney," snapped Joker. "I ain't a preacher or an English teacher, so I don't believe in stories having some kinda message. Books should entertain kiddies, not educate them – that's a parent's job."

"That's true," agreed Emilia. "You can't depend on fiction to educate a child without input from parents."

"I was educated by fiction," retorted Crane.

"And look how you turned out," replied Emilia, kissing him fondly. "Wouldn't you like our children to have a little easier ride through life than you did? Perhaps somebody to shepherd them in the right direction, and guide them through life's difficulties?"

"Well, good luck with that!" chuckled Joker. "You're gonna be worse than useless, Johnny!"

"Why?" demanded Crane. "I've had more than my fair share of difficulties…"

"And you've responded in totally psychotic ways," interrupted Joker.

"Oh, and you haven't?" demanded Crane.

"No, I've responded in perfectly natural ways," replied Joker. "When I was naturally transformed into a clown, I naturally adapted to it. You, however, chose this weird fear persona thing you got going on."

"No, it was thrust upon me through my years of being tormented and bullied," retorted Crane.

"And if we don't want our children to experience the same, learning some social skills will be good for them," finished Emilia. "Now come on, Katrina, go play with Arleen and J.J."

Katrina sighed heavily, shutting her book reluctantly. "Hello, Arleen and J.J.," she muttered. "What ridiculous game would you like to waste my time with now?"

"She is her father's daughter," commented Emilia. "And frankly, starting to act more like a teenager every day, which is concerning from a four-year-old."

"Yeah, our kiddies have got that rebellious streak already too," agreed Harley, nodding. "But with their parents, who can blame them? My whole Harley Quinn thing is obviously a latent rebellion against my former straight-laced life as Dr. Harleen Quinzel. Actually, it's more like a revolution, since a rebellion is temporary, but a revolution changes things forever."

"I've never been very rebellious myself," said Emilia. "Jonathan certainly is, however."

"Now, yes," agreed Crane. "I was mostly very timid and well-behaved throughout my teenage years though, until I finally snapped and attacked a bully with a knife. But up until then, I was as docile as anything, and incredibly obedient to anyone in authority."

"Well, I pity your kids then," sighed Joker, shaking his head. "Rebellion is a healthy part of growing up. How do you expect your kids to grow up healthy when you both never did?"

"There's nothing wrong with rebellion later in life, Mr. J," said Harley. "Like me. But it is a basic rite of passage in every individual – I'm surprised you haven't experienced it in some way, Emilia. But then maybe marrying a supercriminal is your idea of rebelling against society."

"Yes, quite possibly," agreed Emilia. "I suppose some of us are naturally more rebellious than others, and others are naturally more responsible than others."

"Boy, I'd much rather be rebellious," said Joker. "Not that I remember what it was like being normal and boring and responsible, but I can't imagine it was any fun."

"Nope," agreed Harley. "I remember exactly what it was like being Dr. Harleen Quinzel, and no way am I ever going back to that dull, monotonous existence."

"Still, you never know what it's like until you try," said Joker, shrugging. "And it's good to experience new things. I've just never been responsible before."

"Tell me about it," retorted Harley. "The last time I trusted you to look after the kiddies alone, they ended up in GCPD."

"And we got 'em out," snapped Joker. "Are you saying you think I can't be responsible?"

"Frankly, yes," retorted Harley, nodding. "I just can't see it – it's not in your character."

"Oh, think you know my character better than me, do ya?" demanded Joker. "Well, I've been this character for eighty-odd years now, and I know I'm capable of anything I put my mind to! I'll show you, you doubting dame! I'll show you all! Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go commit some last bursts of anarchy before my responsible resolution, the way people have a drunken blowout on Mardi Gras before Lent starts. Enjoy your playdate!"

"Bye, Daddy!" called Arleen and J.J., waving after him. "Have fun kicking Batman's butt like in your book!"

"I suppose anything can happen in fiction," agreed Crane with a sigh. And indeed, anything would.