Harley Quinn

- -

Greetings, ladies and gentlemen!

Welcome to my acting debut

in the hamlet known as Metropolis.

- -

Thank you, thank you!

This is the first in my series of one-man shows

about iconic historical moments from the point of view

- of someone who was not there. -

Tonight's performance of Pearl Harbor

features Giovanni,

a salt of the earth cobbler in Napoli, Italy,

who died fully 20 years

before the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor.

This shoe looks pretty good.

I love the way it shine.

Hey, I'mma wonder what's happening in Pearl Harbor

twenty years from now.

Oh, well, back to work.

I have been up all night,

awaiting the early edition of the Daily Planet

reviewing my one-man show!

- - Ah!

Magic time!

Hmm. Didn't make the front page, I see.

Well, no matter.

They probably saved the best for last.

"Mister Face's wildly problematic adaptation

of Pearl Harbor is as flawed

as his Italian hate crime of an accent."

Oh, wait, hold on. That is not right.

Ah, here we go, here we go.

"Mister Face is phenomenally talented...

at making you wish you had never been born."

Fret not, ol' chap. I know what you're thinking.

That we should've domesticated raccoons instead of cats?

No! That I must confront the topmost brass

at the Daily Planet!

This isn't over, Pamela.

Okay. It was just a dream.

It was just a dream. He's dead. He's--

It's over.

Morning, Ives. You sleep okay?

Uh...

I... I've definitely slept better.

- Oh, God. Thank you. - Mwah.

So, you remember last night, when I asked you

how your day was, and you said, "It was fine"?

Ye... Yeah?

Did you maybe forget to mention the tiny bit

where you met your toxic, abusive, ugly ex

and then murdered his ass?

What the fu-- They just called me a "freak accident."

You know, the media? They hate women.

I... I can explain.

So you killed Jason Woodrue

in the same exact way he killed you?

In the same exact way that he tried to kill me.

And yet I'm still here. And he's not.

Sweetie, I'm not done with that.

I... I just wasn't done.

- Swe-- - Oh, really? Really?

I didn't know because you didn't tell me!

Harls, okay, let me just clarify,

'cause me not telling you about Jason

has nothing to do with you. It's just--

It's just that you didn't share this huge moment of reckoning

with one of the most traumatic incidents in your past

with your partner, who loves you.

Sweetie? I didn't want you to worry.

I love worrying!

I worry about shit all the time.

Like, will there be a berry crisis in the future?

Can people see my mustache in the sun?

Will my girlfriend be honest with me

when she's going through something,

so I can help her process it?

It's not-- There's nothing to process.

How did you feel about killing him?

Did you get closure? Did you have a chance

to vent your anger and tell him he's a piece of shit?

- - Aw, shit.

Look, my presentation for the Green Initiative

is in an hour, and I gotta, you know,

take care of some stuff before, and, you know--

Yeah, you gotta take your morning shit.

- Yeah. Yeah. - See?

Isn't it easier when you just say things?

Harley, you can be mad at me if you want to,

but it still mean a lot to me

if you could just come to my presentation and support me.

Okay. But this Jason thing--

- - Honey, uh, we gotta go.

I gotta go. I... I actually have to go.

We gotta talk about this later.

This conversation isn't over!

Oh, wait, you just said that. Ugh!

Lois, enough with your claptrap.

I wanna hear more about this dead professor.

Police only found a pile of goo.

- Called it a freak accident. - I've been--

- In Metropolis? Ridiculous. - This is what--

This city is damn near perfect.

- - Something's fishy here.

That's exactly what I told you!

I walked in and I said, "Something's fishy here."

I think you got that from me.

I must speak to the editor-in-chief!

That's me. What do you want?

I demand a retraction.

Good luck with that. Bye.

This must be a mistake.

"The only thing worse than the acting

in Mister Face's one-man show

is the casting!"

Have you no taste?

This is an attack on the theater.

Nay, nay. This is an attack on art itself.

Fuck off, I heard the play was terrible.

Not worse than gout, but damn near.

Trust me, I know gout.

No, that cannot be your final word.

You must come to this evening's performance

and write me an unbiased review.

The only way that dog crap show gets a good review

is if you write it yourself.

That's brilliant!

- -

Wow. Can't believe Professor Woodrue exploded.

Good news is I can probably get an extension

on my paleo-botany paper.

So, as you can see here,

by linking the soil beds

with the city's existing subterranean water supply,

we can intertwine greenery and chrome seamlessly,

giving new meaning to the term "urban jungle."

Hey, I'm here to unconditionally support you.

But we still need to talk.

Uh, thank you. Um, so anyway,

uh, Metropolis has a long way to go,

but as with everything, this green revolution

will start with the "seed" of an idea.

Seed.

- Laugh, ya weenies! -

I have a question.

- What the fuck? Stop it. - You heard her, stop laughing.

They won't do that again, continue.

Uh, excuse me. I just was a little nervous.

It's just public speaking, I guess.

- So, where were we? - Right here.

I'm coming for you.

Ah!

This is not real. This is not happening.

- Uh, Ive? -

Class dismissed, ya nerds.

- Ive-- Ivy! -

Hey, you're doing great.

Those weenies were writing down every word you said

and I didn't understand any of it,

which means it was real intellectual stuff.

I... I think I'm going out of my mind.

Yes, okay. See, I don't like

how we left things this morning either.

No. No, it's not that-- I mean, yes.

But, right now, I just--

I really need to get myself together.

You know what? You probably need to eat.

We should get lunch and talk it out.

No. I'm not hungry, really--

Ives, whatever is going on, you can tell me. Please.

Nothing is going on. I just feel like I'm going...

Going to need to go into The Green real quick. Okay?

I'm gonna need to meditate.

Fine. I guess I'll just go eat lunch by myself

like some kind of sad asshole.

- Thank you for understanding. - Ugh. Shit.

- - Oh.

Ew. What is that?

Ugh. Okay.

Jason is dead.

You are safe.

You just need to get some sleep.

- - Oh.

Well, hi to you, too, little fella.

Aw. Look at you.

Oh!

Is that what you wanted to show me?

That's a beautiful, beautiful white oak.

Yeah.

- - Huh?

- -