Hell Hath No FuryMature

Fanfic based around The Joker from The Dark Knight





Hell Hath No Fury



I’d been minding my own business; just sitting on the bar stool staring into my vodka and coke, trying to block out the pulsating sounds of  the latest club mix, when I saw him out of the corner of my eye. He was staring at me intently; which began to freak me out. I don’t know what it is about me, but I always seem to attract the nutters and weirdo’s, and this one was no exception; a face full of make-up – not even in decent tranny style, but more like some demonic clown! And I couldn’t be sure, what with the lights and all, but it looked like his wavy hair had a greenish tint – probably a dye job gone wrong! Still, it takes all sorts – live and let live is my motto!  I made a show of finishing my drink, intending to get the message across that I was done and out of there. It had been a mistake coming to the Eclipse club tonight. I should have stayed at home and got drunk on my own whilst listening to sad love songs. Clumsy as ever, I knocked my bag over and most of the contents spilt to the floor. ‘Shit!’ I muttered under my breath as I knelt down to recover my things. That was when he made his move. To this day I still remember it as being like a cat stalking a mouse. I froze; waiting for him to pounce. When nothing happened I hurriedly refilled my bag.  I rose to find him sitting in my vacated seat. I must have gasped in surprise as he turned to face me, his dark eyes burning into my own and enquired nonchalantly, “Did I scare you?”



Two hours later, I was ringing the front door bell of my best mate, Cat’s apartment.

“Becks! What the hell are you doing here? It’s one thirty in the bloody morning!”

“I know; I’m sorry! I just couldn’t think of anywhere else to go!” I sobbed.

“You’d better come in then”, she yawned, stepping aside to let me through.

Now don’t go thinking that Cat’s an insensitive bitch and a poor excuse for a best friend, but I seem to roll from one disaster to another, and she’s always there to pick up the pieces. I know she’s getting pissed off with me constantly crying and moaning on her shoulder, but hell, I’m pissed off too!

“I’ll put the kettle on, that’s unless you want a proper drink?”

“No, coffee’ll be fine. Hang on; on second thoughts I’ll have a drop of brandy in it if that’s okay.” I took off my jacket and draped it over the back of the luxurious three seater sofa. I was tempted to lie there and sink into it, disappear forever, but thought better of it. Seeing as Cat had dragged herself out of bed for me, it didn’t seem right, so I perched on the edge, burying my face in my hands. Cat busied herself in the kitchen as I thought back over the events of the evening. I really should have stayed home instead of going out. But seeing as I’d just been dumped by my long-standing boyfriend Matt, who I’d thought was the love of my life, I felt I needed to get him well and truly out of my system. And let’s face it; I was already dressed to go out. I’d spent all afternoon pampering myself; getting ready for what was supposed to be a party to announce our engagement. I’d felt so smug as I sat on the loo seat, shaving my legs, visualizing the congratulations from my mum and dad as Matt made the announcement. I now know that as I watched the mixture of shaving gel and leg hairs disappearing rapidly down the shower drain, the same thing was happening to my relationship with The Rat as I’ve since re-named him.

My thoughts were interrupted by Cat as she handed me a steaming mug of coffee and brandy. “So, I gather the announcement didn’t go down too well” she sighed as she sat beside me with her mug of tea.

“Oh, that’s not the half of it!” I exploded. “We never even got as far as my parent’s house. Not after I found a text from The Bitch on his phone, reminding him that nothing need change, and inviting him over to hers for a pre-engagement shag!”

“What! You mean the Bitch – as in ex-girlfriend Soozie?”

“Yeah. Apparently they’ve been seeing each other for months! All those Tuesday nights when I thought he was playing football, he was with her!” 

“Oh Becks, I’m so sorry. I honestly thought you’d finally found yourself a decent bloke. I mean, you’ve been together for over a year! And he always acted as if he adored you.”

Yeah well, unfortunately for me, he still adored her too. So much so that he thought he could have us both. I felt such a fool! Of course he was so bloody attentive; it was guilt! I told her all about my sorrowful evening nursing one drink, as I tried to convince myself that it was better to find out now what sort of a rat he was. By three o’ clock it was way too late to make my way home through the dark criminal-owned streets of Gotham, so Cat suggested I stay over. Which was just as well, because when I rooted around in my bag for the extra tampax I’d brought with me, I found that not only were they missing, but my keys as well. The keys that had my name and address on the Tweetie Pie keyring. I must have missed them when I was scrambling around on the floor of the club to retrieve the contents of my bag. I tipped everything out, in the hope of finding them – the keys that is – the tampax I could get off Cat. I sorted through all the junk that spilled out onto the carpet. Lipstick, powder, mascara, old bus tickets, old till receipts, a piece of card, my nearly empty purse. I gathered up all the old paper stuff to chuck in the bin. As I disposed of it all, the card landed on top. It was from an ordinary pack of playing cards.

“How the hell did this get in here?” I mused aloud. “I don’t even own a pack of cards.”

“Let me look at that,” said Cat as she reached into the bin. “Oh. My. God!”


“That weird guy who nicked your seat? You don’t know who that was?”

“No. Should I?”

She turned the card over to reveal the joker card. “Only Gotham’s very own big bad wolf – The Joker!”

I stood there; my mouth hanging open in shock. I’d obviously read the reports in the paper about this freak and his henchmen, but not taken much notice. After all, we moved in different worlds, so it wasn’t likely our paths would ever cross, was it? Oh how wrong I’d been! This Joker guy must have helped himself to some of the things that fell out of my bag. Which meant apart from having a rather disturbing fetish for tampons, he was now also in possession of my house keys, complete with my name and address on them. 

Oh shit.

The End

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