Bathroom Monologue: Noun Challenge at the Races

The Joker put his hands behind his head, reclining as Harley pumiced his calluses.

“This is the life, Harls. All because of preparation.”

“How’s that, Mistah J?”

“Got my work done this morning.”

He brought up a pale hand, looking at the track in the valley below. He tuned his radio with the volume low until he heard the murmur of the commentators.

“Always wanted dad to take me to the Kentucky Derby. The races are pure skill, but the gambling? The swearing? The lost tuition payments? Ha-ha! The whole place is a monument to chance and not doing your work beforehand. But today they get a real windfall – a hundred tons of C4 guarantees that the first long shot to come in will bring down the house.” He rubbed suntan lotion over his white face. “Why didn’t I think of leaving Gotham sooner?”

“No idea, Puddin’,” Harley said with a happy sigh, hiding the bottle of prozac in her bag. She’d been slipping him the last two weeks. Only a hundred tons of C4? The pills really did work!