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Spotlighted in a dark room I white the night like in-can-des-cent flour 8000Kelvin a'light pollution I scare all the crittas away. Except this little mouse here.
"Kill that er'I put both yer lights out."
"Sorry!" a frightened woman says:) The room drops ta solid again. Like in her pants!
I partly make her out, some dark shape crouched by the wall.
"Who ya?" I says.
"Lois—-Lois Lane. I work for The Planet."
"The what?"
"The newspaper, here in Metropolis. I'm—-on assignment. It's, it's not safe here, Ms. Quinn."
Oh? She knows me, that so? N I'm not safe har!
We hang out in silence, her blood pressure bumpin. My anxi'ty levels're flat today a'course cuz it's my day off!
"May I, turn the light on? Please? I'm. . . a little unnerved. I don't want trouble."
"Point it down," I says.
Skitt'rin lightbeam on the pale concrete, she on her haunches. Gotta gun believe it er'not in the otha hand'n a cam'ra ovah her shoulda.
"Sure's a lil toy ya got there," I says. "But if somebody's got a stick I'd bet on ya."
"Do you have a stick?"
"If a weapon's needed I'll just take yers," I guffaws then CAWs like a bird, which also rises. "People here don't usu'ly know me. This city got its own non-compliants."
"Non-compliants?"
"Those feedin off the system. A system per-pet-u—a-ted by ya'n yer news. Yeppers. Define'n confine abs'lut'ly anythin'n everythin, put it ta print, stroke the powah structures. Strokin. N remindin folks a'their relation ta them."
"That's—-sure a mouthful."
"Yer right. Person'ly I lie cheat'n steal. Like video games but way betta. N I make headlines fer it, not my intention—-mosta the time—-but I don't mind the fame. But these worldviews like yers that go long with my picture that I'm like this'n like that, ther just bleh."
"So, people shouldn't understand the world around them? And you? Don't you hide out until it gets dark everyday? And wear full white-body makeup?"
"I've a skin condition. Ev'dently the pat'rarchy gotcha targetin women now huh?
"I didn't—-"
"As a child," I says, "every adult informed ya. Formed in yer mind. N so ya began perceivin their shared worldview." I tighten my pigtails. "Yeah, I'm HQ, that's right. But ya don't know me."
As fer me—-thanks fer askin—-Ivy dyed me red Thursday night. 1/2 red. N she could not stop flirtin. She'd her toes up in the seat a'my chair before my dinna even came outta the oven.
"I've read about you," Lane says. "I'm a fan. Not of certain unsavory choices but I—-"
"OH? The righteous type? That kinda news's good eatin. Ya gonna show me religion too?"
"No. I'm. . . just saying that—-"
"I'm already Catolick," I says.
I saunta in on her while ser'nadin'n tangle my paws up in her hair.
🎶 Meow meow meow / Purr purr purr / Guide my whiskas / Pet my fur 🎶
She does a little gasp as I take her breath away hot—-then put a dip in my hip, singin'n gyratin, give her some pelvis like Elvis but it aint infectious cuz she stiff. Wearin all black like she's audishnin fer Commando Housewife. Me, I'm nekkid I'm always nekkid don't ya ferget it.
"On yer feet, Lemming!"
She's actin frozen but it aint cold cuz my nipples're soft.
"A woman just stuck on her knees huh?"
She slides up the wall, her lightbeam jitt'rin on the floor.
"Ma'am, if—-?"
I interject'n push her gainst the wall.
Pause a second. . .
Okay.
"Call me 'ma'am' again'n I quash ya."
"Sorry. Um. . . may I?"
"What?!"
"May I ask?"
"I don't know, may ya?"
The room comes alive, all the clappin'n cheerin—-my accolades—-n I absorb em and give em the encore early.
🎶 I live fer the applause applause applause / I live fer the applause plause live fer the applause plause live fer the / The way that ya cheer and scream fer me / The applause applause applause 🎶
Croonin'n cavortin'n just gen'rally going bitch-ass mad ta the sound a'music.
🎶 Gimme that thing that I love I'll turn the lights out / Put yer hands up make em touch make it real loud / A - P - P - L - A - U - S - E / A - P - P - L - A - U - S - E 🎶
. . . until it quiets down again. Ya know, so her subsequent dialogue aint inaud'ble.
Her line: "So. . . why, why do you break the fourth wall?"
"Whazzat?"
"You start addressing the reader directly."
Like this?
"I don't like that type of writing."
The so-called /reader/ thereaderemptyvessel #gulliblestravels. Ya there!
Hello?!
. . .
Either yer mum, er'when ya talk er'think back an answah I nevah get the memo. Now's yer chance!
. . .
"Laney, ya exclude most everyone from 'what's happenin'. Leaves em feelin dis-con-nec-ted, a watcha with no say in the destiny a'the world. Plus ya got some flyin space-alien-thing dom'natin yer news. How's people supposed ta feel relevant ta that?"
"His name is Superman."
"What a dumb name!"
"You have a problem with Superman?"
I squish her cheeks. She was startin ta cop an attitude'n I don't like cops.
N I says: "When ya read my stories ya hear me speakin ta ya."
In a mumbly tone: "Yes. S'called narration."
"Er's it ya hear my words spoken in yer inner voice?" Her brow scrunches as I let go a'her face. Like this partic'lar story, ya're the provida a'my voice'n the mental construction a'my image. Ya bring Harley Quinn inta existence but in real life ya'd be astounded cuz I'm really like the four hundred pound transwoman on the otha end a'the sexline so ya best be recr'atin rightly hm? It's like—-whoopsie daisies! "It's like—-yer wearin a spacesuit, a spacesuit a'my lusciousness. Touch myself fer me would ya?" I lick my lips. Ya see my fat wet tongue doncha? "Far out."
Cue unbut'nin if this's a hands-free read er'we can pretend I do it? Apply me some Fenty Uncensored, smack my chops'n get ta tusslin with yer zippa even though Ivy says many fruits're high in potassium not just bananas.
"What are you saying? I'm standing in the same room with you, Harley."
At this point ya've become me. That voice ya hear a'mine" narratin this story? It's, um, yers. So who's breakin this so-called fourth wall?"
"The audience is expected to see through the fourth wall. The storyteller, is not," ya say. Har! Guess I just broke through yer skull.
"But Lane yer lookin through the fourth wall at my present-tense prose while I may actu'ly be at the beach maybe I'm peein in the ocean right now ya do it too in the company a'othas don't lie red herrin my whole caboodle! but someone should remind Goobaman bout his fourth wall gen'ral etiquette cuz he wears a speedo ovah his mommy's leotard blatantly showin the world—-what? It don't look so supah ta me, Honey."
"Superman is a protector of the people. His values reflect what is best and noble in Mankind. Didn't you. . . sleep with your college professor to get ahead, Harley?"
"So astute ya're! Yes ya're so cute yes ya're. I mentioned 'boinkerin my way ta a doctorate' with Collingswerth, that's right, I got some head." re-eddit, props. "Bravo! But the prize was his housekey. Let's straighten out my prior'ties." I unholsta the handgun from my boot as she's puttin the light on it. It has bright-orange highlights, ya can't miss em.
"Familiar with don Juan Matus?" I says.
"What?"
"The Nagual. Who said: 'Nothin should be taken fer granted, til nothin's any longa fer sure, er'real. Yer problem now? It's that yer too real. Yer endeavahs're too real, yer moods're too real.'"
"But you are real, Harley. I know who you are. You share time between Gotham and New York. You've got family in New York, in Florida."
"Again my affirmed lifestory yes'n was I once at the beck'n call too a'some man?" Smile real big, my matchin-set teeth I am glow-in-the-dark lady. I am that I am. "Yer in the truth business really? N this—-is a reliable face ta ya?":P
"I'm recording this whole conversation," she says.
"Hashtagdebunkme. &%$# me. &%$# ya." I smash her cam'ra unda my big black boot. She's disb'lievin it's missin from her shoulda aghast!
See? Hey!
"Wait," I says. "Were there nudes?" She's quiet'n looks guilty. "There were nudes!" What. A. Hussy.
"Ya got a photo a'me?" I says. "No I don't think so. I do drinks with Margo on occasion but that bitch aint me. Oh wait, but ya got some cartoon drawins? Please." I cock the hamma'n push it gainst her forehead. "I took yer cellphone five minutes ago'n ya still aint noticed."
She touches her butt, slowly. "No. You didn't."
"N I'll take yer man un-a-bashd-ly but he's likely a small time losah."
Fin'ly her arm raises'n tries ta point her little weapon at me but there's not enough room she's backed up gainst the wall so she holds the gun ta the side a'my head before bendin her elbow so's it'll fit between her hand'n my noggin. She's butch with big long arms like a slimy octopus. N that damn flashlight.
"Toucy-touchy," I says, squintin! "Ya married, Lane?"
BangScream!
The room is vibratin'n I shake my gun, feelin depressed from this outcome. Then, I point it at my own face. It's tangled-up in the barrel, the flag nevah ejected. "Junk," I says'n throws it inta the cornah, the clackin sound a'plastic. "What I tell ya bout that damn light?"
The beam flips ta the left but she still lOOks down her mostly extended arm at me. Most people take aim one-eyed—-but benefit a'the doubt sure. "Squeeze on that pistol grip, Girl'n before everythin goes limp maybe try the trigga?"
"What do you want?!" she screeches.
"'The vast assembly a'beams'n boards ya cling ta're used by me as a mere climbin frame'n playthin on which ta perform my tricks.' Now there's a Supahman I wanna $# !" With closed fists I feint at her face which makes her gun go off'n fly outta her hand'n clap the wall. That's the last a'my spOOk posturin cuz this's borrin.
"Karen!" I yell with sprayin saliva'n so. . . I exit the room, walk down a hallway. I only wanna meet up with my girl'n talk the latest drama—-we share all the secrets—-but wind up gettin too distracted. I pass through a doorway'n someone takes a swing at me so I duck'n quack then lit'rally break his kneecap'n floorbound he crumples.
"Hey, Fella, ya seen a woman in a white ballet outfit? Window-ta-eternity cut-out on the chest? Cape?"
What's it matta? She got sup-a-son-ic hearin. I bring Inez out inta the light'n &%$# unload seven bullets into Dumbo's torso here damn. All that rehearsin a minute ago got me charged up. Too much sex'n yer sluttin but a woman who shoots ta kill? Effin hot! If yer male ya ignore yer religious upbringin'n like em both! PG aint gonna be happy bout this dude leakin blood like it's my time a'the month I'm serious I got that heavy flow'n've nevah known spottin.
"Peej, ya hear me?"
This was her idea all long they had a squabble Thanksgivin'n PG can hold a grudge so don't blame me whateva happened here aint my fault. HER idea.
"Hey, let's just meet outside okay?"
La-dee-dah la-dee-dah.