MASK OR MENACE

The problem with...

The thing about Harley Quinn.

You never quite knew which Harley you were going to get. She could be surprisingly empathetic - this is a woman who talked Poison Ivy out of murder, which would be rather like if King Canute had ordered the tides to roll back out and they actually had, while asking politely "how far out?" And in that vein, she could do tremendously good things, being akin to a friend an ally.

Then there were the other days when that other facet of Harley landed side up and you had to chase her down because she was gunning her way out of the mint.

But there was a third, much more dangerous Harley.

That was the one who landed like a hand grenade - with nails taped to it - in the midst of already developing chaos. Which was the current occasion, hurray! And with Batman out of town, it was her job to deal with what could only be described as a 'incipient shitshow.' She liked the balance of vocabulary and vulgarity there, what could she say?

The facts, such as they are, were these: the Gotham mobs had come to a territory-sharing agreement. One they had actually written down complete with maps and signed affidavits because Lord knew the unwritten ones hadn't taken in the past. But this was meant to be safeguarded by being stored in a secure vault hidden in a disused restaurant for kids.

Which would have been the last place anybody would look for it, since it wasn't officially tied to any Gotham crime syndicate. But who should come by to ransack a place for mementos because she had nostalgia for it? That's right! Guessed it in one! And the floor art they had buried their documents beneath because nobody would ever look under it?

Ding ding ding.

So now Harley Quinn had the most important documents in the history of the Gotham mob, which meant every single one of them wanted her dead yesterday. And it got to fall on Batgirl's shoulders to keep her upright. And hopefully get said documents.

The joys of being part of the Gotham set.