A quarrel between lovers

Right now, I am having dinner with my friend Joan Leland who used to be my doctor at Arkham Asylum. She is a brunette with glasses, a few wrinkles around her eyes, and a caring heart. I explained the dream where I was pregnant and how weird I thought it was since I am a lesbian who is in love with Pam Isley who I usually call Red because of her flaming red hair. Joan did me a great service by explaining that there was nothing weird about the dream at all. Even though I am a lesbian, I am still a woman with the same wants and desires as any other lady. My friend even suggested that I could have a kid through artificial insemination. Even though I am starting to desire a family, I am scared of that procedure because a needle is used. Everyone who knows me knows that I hate needles more than anything.

I am about to discuss other matters of important matters with my friend when we are interrupted by my cell phone ringing. It seems that a person's telephone is most likely to ring during dinner than any other time. I get an annoyed look on my face as I dig my cell phone from my brown purse. My annoyed look turns into a happy look when the caller id function on my phone tells me that Pam is calling me. I eagerly press the button to accept the call.

"We need to talk. Please come to my place."

That's it? No term of endearment? Sometimes, Pam calls me her angel. Usually, I would jump at the chance to visit Pam. This time is different. Her voice sounded so off. My skin is crawling and my stomach is doing flip-flops. Whoever was on the phone sounded like Red but it somehow wasn't her. I am starting to sense a trap and I don't want to go in alone. Who can someone like me ask for help? Could I get the police to believe me when I didn't have any real proof that something was wrong. I think about who to contact when I remember the big secret I recently found out. I bet he would help me. I put my half of the bill on the table and say goodbye to Joan.

I run outside with a sense of great urgency until I come to an alley. After checking to make sure that no one was watching, I called my employer hoping that he was still at the office. Shoot! He already left! I called his mansion and only heard the voice of some British gentleman. It must be Alfred Pennyworth. I can guess that his job is a thousand times more detailed than I thought since I now know that he is Batman's butler.

"Hello," Alfred spoke.

"I need to speak with your master right now! It's urgent!" I almost yell since I am getting close to panicking.

"He isn't here," Alfred replied. "Miss Quinzel is it?"

"Yes, tell him to meet me at Pam Isley's house and that I need him to wear his special party clothes," I demand.

"Party clothes?" Alfred asks with a hint of apprehension.

"Yes, I know how your master likes to party so please don't deny it," I order. "Please get Bruce the message. It could be a matter of life or ."

I hang up before the British butler could say anything else and call a cab. While I am in the yellow car, I take a few deep breaths to calm down. I won't be able to help Pam if I am running like a chicken with its head cut off. I think about my problem and am sure that I know what the problem is. If someone you know in Gotham isn't acting like that person usually act, it doesn't take Sherlock Holmes to find who is responsible.

I arrive at my girlfriend's house with a sense of apprehension. This is when they say in the movies that it is much too quiet. I knock on Red's door and it opens. I see Red with a blank stare on her face. Then something happens that I never thought could happen in a million years. Red raises a steak knife as high as she can raise it and then tries to stab me with it. I grab the handle and start fighting for control of the knife. The problem is that Red is a lot stronger than she usually is. I know that I am in big trouble.