Harley's Change: A Changeling

Portrait of urban criminal insanity in the form of a DC Comics bad-lady who moves a prince to become Batman (perhaps).

Harley Quinn (DC Comics) fanfiction. 

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There I was, enjoying American Homeland TV (on any given Sunday!) and found some special streets-superstitions arts for a casting of urbanization crime-consciousness for securities in Earthling-adjective facilitating modern lifestyle comforts for bread/fruit; and I made a dark clown lady in crayon and named her Harley Quinn (Facebook-like!).

Some woman contacted me and explained she was the actual Harley Quinn, having left her position as a city-psychiatrist and using my crayon-rendering to inspire herself to become a 'copycat-image' but one for actual applied crimes of Hell (wow). I didn't know what to say or think, but I knew this real Earth-girl was simply evil; and she wanted to use my crayon-optimism to cast her own illusions of Hell and anarchy. I read in horror in the news that this 'real' Harley Quinn was possibly responsible for an explosion in a police-station in my fare-rich city; and I was furious. My own crayon clown-girl of art (named Harley Quinn!) was pure fiction (Facebook-like).

HARLEY: Thanx for this inspiring dream, and it's why I'm in your dream-sleep.

ME: You visit me, and I'm not even aware if I'm awake/sleeping/conscious!

HARLEY: I took your art, and now I enter your dream-vision, prince-fella.

ME: You're only evil; my art's real, Harley Quinn (ok).

HARLEY: Wanna bet...don't doubt I'm the new face for Gotham City weirdos?

ME: You're a psychopath, and if this is a dream, I'm purely worried as a man!

HARLEY: The more cops I kill, the more you'll think of that crayon, prince-fella.

ME: Wow, when I wake I'm gonna start a novel concept (Becoming American).

HARLEY: Damn...maybe you're some vigilante with ends ('Batman' or somethin').

ME: Maybe (farewell).

HARLEY: Facebook-like!

When I woke, in a sweat, I knew what I'd do...I knew to keep that sleep-vision promise(s) and pen that story-adaptation of my earnest will to cast my (own!) crayon-arts Harley Quinn as a pure avatar for urbanization woe 'consciousness' for the Ego (yeah). I ended up visiting the cemetery where this psycho-girl's victims of my fare-rich city were buried, after bloody-murder; I knew this (other!) Harley Quinn wouldn't make me bereft of any Earthling helmet-for-charge (sure). This was Selfie-like.

READER: So, you've procured an American football cheerleader trade-card!

ME: Good for the mind, reader...I'm to pen my own art for labyrinth(s), pal.

READER: Scared of Harley Quinn, eh?

ME: Maybe I'll become a poison-pet in her dominion (a vigilante!).

READER: Ha, what should we call you (for field goals)?

ME: Batman.

"Doing well is the result of doing good. That's what capitalism is all about" (Ralph Waldo Emerson). 

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"Money is everything" (Ecclesiastes)