Wow, what a nut-case.
The crouching femme fatal was tempted to stay on her perch, simply watching these two move about for a few more hours. She’d managed to sneak onto the rafters of their not-so-secret hideout a few minutes ago and kept perfectly still while the couple of the year had their little threating fight down below. Poor girl was hooked badly on the psychotic clown, hooked as bad as the fishing hook stuck in a trout’s upper lip. By the look of it, it seemed like the fishermen wasn’t about to let her go anytime soon either. Seemed Laurel wanted to keep Hardy around to abuse them all that much more. It almost made Max want to extend an exit door to the girl…almost.
She brought it on herself, she thought, finally deciding that now was better than never. One had to be a little crazy to attempt thievery from the clown prince of crime, as crazy as their target, but that was exactly what Mad-Max, the Queen of Hearts, expected to do. The Joker, or maybe Harley, had acquired a St. Valentine ruby from the jewelry museum, one of the more rare grades of ruby to be found. With any luck it would be going home with her tonight.
Adjusting her mask she turned her head towards the large vault in the corner. She needed them out of the room, and was thinking of a pretty proverbial distraction. She moved her wrist in a circular motion, producing a small round ball from her suit. She smirked, eyeing the smoke bomb with devilish delight. With a quick toss, she threw the little contraption down a nearby air shoot leading directly to the upstairs room. It landed just upstairs and, with a loud crash, exploded, filling the whole room up with a bad smelling smoke.
The queen of hearts grinned, and cat-crawled over to one of the many beams, ready to slide down.