I'm a Fool For You

Chapter 2

I hate balloons. Hate, hate, hate, hate. I HATE stupid balloons! Who invented these things, anyway? Someone STUPID because balloons are STUPID!

Getting the balloons had been easy enough. I just snuck into a nearby dollar store wearing my very inconspicuous clothes and swiped all their stock. I felt a teeny bit bad about stealing, but I knew if the storekeepers knew that these balloons were for Mister J's special day, they'd be glad to help. Besides, it's not like I usually run around wreaking havoc.

I brought them all to another abandoned building in case the cops came and tried to mess everything up. That's what I love about Gotham. There are always plenty of crumbly old buildings. The round balloons were fine. They just blew right up no problem. Soon the room was full of lovely green and purple balloons bobbing around merrily. I added a few white ones for some variety too. As I was blowing up the hundredth or so balloon I realized that maybe I should have brought them home and then blown them up. Now I had a hundred balloons blowing everywhere and I wasn't sure I could carry them all home without floating away. Well, it was too late to worry about that now.

The problem was the skinny balloons. The horrible, awful, terrible, stupid, stupid skinny balloons. I blew those up myself so at least they weren't floating away, but they were not cooperating. I was trying to twist them into doggies and hats and giraffes and stuff so I could show Mister J. I twisted and I wrestled and I pleaded and I threatened and I even executed one as an example, but I just could not get them to work. All I had was a pile of dumb old snakes. Snakes are okay, but my Puddin' deserves better.

I picked up one of the balloons and glared at it.

"Stupid balloon! Why won't you work? STUPID BALLOON!" I cried, and threw it against the wall. It gently bounced off and settled to the floor. Dumb balloon couldn't even hit the wall right. It was supposed to explode or something since that's what it deserved.

I snatched it off the ground.

"Oh, that didn't hurt, you say? Eat this, balloon!" I ripped the balloon apart with my bare hands. It exploded with a surprisingly loud bang. One of the pieces flew up into my eye and I squawked. Guess I showed him who was boss.

But then I looked back at the other balloons and they were still just a pile of snakes. Suddenly it seemed like everything was going wrong and this was going to be the worst special day ever. I sat next to the pile and was just about to start crying when I had an idea. I gathered the rest of the empty balloons and headed outside.

It had taken a long time to blow up all those balloons, so it was starting to get light outside and there were a few more people. I looked them all over carefully as they passed, looking for just the right sort of guy.

It was some time before I found what I was looking for. Then a man walked by. He was a short, chubby guy with thinning hair and a droopy face. His skin looked dry and rough, and he itched his nose every now and then.

Bingo, I thought.

There are lots of things I don't know much about, but if there's one thing I know, it's clowns. And I knew firsthand that caking on white makeup every day leaves your skin dry as a bone and itchy as a wool pantsuit. I, of course, moisturize carefully so I'm always presentable for Mister J, but this guy obviously didn't know or didn't care. All the better for me.

I followed the man until he turned into an alleyway. Then I checked to make sure nobody was around, tapped him on the shoulder, and pulled an enormous revolver out of my purse. After all, a lady does have to carry a few necessities in her bag.

"DO YOU KNOW HOW TO MAKE BALLOON ANIMALS?!" I snarled.

The man squeaked like a mouse. I didn't know men's voices could go that high.

"Uhh… yes?" He said.

"Good. Get to work," I said. I motioned him into the nearest store (abandoned- gotta love Gotham) and handed him the pile of balloons.

I watched sternly as the man made two lovely hats and then the cutest purple wiener dog. Then he made a giraffe. Giraffes and wiener dogs are not purple, but that just makes it funnier. He made poodles and palm trees and everything else I could think of.

With the last few balloons I had something very special in mind.

"Now make a clown," I said.

"B-but I don't know how-"

"MAKE A CLOWN!"

The man was shaking like he'd grabbed a joy buzzer, but he started fiddling with the balloons. For someone who didn't know how to make a balloon clown, he did a pretty good job. It wasn't as handsome as the real Mister J, but he'd like it all the same.

"Now get outta here," I said. The man looked blankly at me for an instant and then bolted.

I looked proudly at the pile of balloons. They covered the floor and lay in piles like snow dunes. Everywhere there was purple, green, and a hint of white. Puddin' was going to love them. And I was just getting started.