Curtis looked down at the handcuffs, chaining his wrists and ankles together during the ride to Arkham. It was absolute bullshit that he was being put with the crazies in that asylum, all because he defaced the property of corrupt government officials. Well... defacing might be a tame word for it, especially considering the flesh-eating acid he put in one guy's car air conditioner. It wasn't enough to kill or seriously harm, just enough to scare and some minor permanent damage. But that was no reason for him to go to Arkham Asylum, right?
Curtis Smith was a seventeen, almost eighteen year old boy with a prowess for liquids of the dangerous variety. Anything that went boom made the boy smile, and if it was made by him, a full on grin would appear. But with talents like his, he hadn't gone to the 'dark side', not yet at least. That's why his victims were always the corrupt ones, the guys that were in the pocket of Two Face or Cobblepot. Those guys could afford to be put down a peg or ten, who cares?
Beside the handcuffed criminal sat two larger men, assault rifles in hand, They watched him intently, ensuring that he had no magic tricks to get out of their grasp. But he knew that this would be his life from now on, he didn't have friends in high places to get him out of a mess like this.
Feeling quite hungry, the topic of food soon entered his mind. "What kind of food do they have at Arkham?" The boy was cut off by a hard slam as something hit the armored car, sending it across the road into a nearby building. The brick wall seemed stronger than armoured car as the metallic vehicle crumbled. The mere hit alone seemed to kill the guards that had been sitting across from him, but it still injured Curtis greatly. The last thing he saw before he fell unconscious was the van's back doors being ripped off, revealing a few thugs standing behind a woman. This woman did not have any distinguishable features - likely due to his blurring vision - but she seemed colorful.<|im_end|>
Cuffed and chained to a bench in the heart of a crumpled police van now rolled over on its side, to say the teenage boy in his plain orange prison outfit and blurred expression was impressive would be grossly charitable. Yet there was something about that crazy little half-smile in his mug shots that caught her eye - not to mention that flesh eating acid gag! That one was worthy of Mista J!
Harley Quinn paused at the thought, sniffed, then let out a peal of laughter as she sprang into the back of the van and swung her special striped Louisville Slugger around into the back of the head of one corpse that was looking at her funny. "Hey Lewis, come give me a hand? " The bloody bat rose once again, and came down with vicious force to snap open Curtis' chains where they attached to the seat. The boy slumped to the ground, but between them Lewis and Roscoe soon had him slung between their shoulders.
In the distance police sirens wailed, and Harley led her posse away from the van and the big rig half mounting it. They all bundled into a white-rimmed sedan and tore off down the back streets with their prize.
When he finally woke, Curtis would find he'd been laid out on a medical gurney in one corner of a warehouse. There was a red-and-black blanket laid over him to keep him warm, both sides rolled in beneath him like a semi-criminal sausage. A flickering light hung low overhead, and on the next gurney over Harley sat, kicking her heels as she stared at the wall over his head and chewed her gum. Half-outside the light circle a third gurney sat, but by the bleeding hole in his head that guy had seen better days.
Once she saw he was awake, Harley thrust out a hand and beamed at the prone boy. "Hey, how are ya Curtis? Thanks for comin' by!"<|im_end|>