**Chapter 32 – The Show Begins**
While the criminals laughed and prepared to "play" with Mirella and Graciela, Joker and Harley exchanged glances. The chains fell from them as if they had never existed—melted by an invisible madness.
Joker stood up slowly, crooked smile on his face. Harley jumped to her feet, pink hammer appearing in her hand.
— The show is about to start — said Joker, his childish voice echoing like a cracked bell.
— And it won't be you who gets to have fun… it'll be us — Harley finished, spinning the hammer. — Ready for the show?
The criminals froze, then burst into laughter. "Kids thinking they're heroes? This is gonna be fun breaking you first!"
One of them, a huge scarred human, approached Joker, thinking he was hot shit. He crouched in front of him, trying to intimidate: "I'm gonna sell you to the dirtiest brothel, kid. And your little pink friend is gonna—"
He didn't finish. Harley acted first, her pink hammer smashing into his knee with insane force—bone exploding like fireworks. He howled, collapsing.
The two were insanely strong, their powers tied to madness: Joker manipulated shadows that turned into living nightmares, creative and unpredictable; Harley created illusions that became real, distorting reality with wild creativity.
The massacre began in madness. Begging or fighting didn't matter—they were all going to die for touching the family.
Harley laughed, turning the big guy into a giant clown illusion, forcing him to dance while his bones broke on their own. He begged: "For the love of the gods, stop!" She replied: "Gods? Our god is chaos!" And she crushed his skull with the hammer, pink brain splattering like confetti.
Joker summoned shadows that entered bodies, making them see their worst fears. One trafficker saw his mother devouring him alive—he clawed his own eyes out until blinded, screaming. Joker whispered: "Applause for the volunteer!" And the shadows tore him apart from the inside out.
Another tried to flee; Harley tricked him with a fake circus where he "fell" into a net of real blades, sliced alive while laughing hysterically.
Vorak, the second-in-command, fought harder. He drew his sword, charging at Joker. But shadows enveloped him, turning his weapon into snakes that bit him. He screamed: "You're demons!" Harley jumped onto his back, hammer smashing his spine: "Demons? We're artists!" Joker finished it, shadows ripping his arms off one by one, making him beg for mercy. "You messed with our family… now dance." Vorak died suffocating on his own lies, shadows filling his mouth until it burst.
Five minutes. Five mutilated bodies, suffering before death: forced dances, living fears, illusions of eternal pain. The garden became a stage of blood and insane laughter.