Jack stared at the television screen in disbelief. And anger. Lots of anger. He had spent years here doing his best to dismantle this city's structure and place himself into some kind of power. He'd been doing pretty well, too, hadn't he? They'd stopped trying to come after him, he was the proud owner and operator of Arkham. He had money. Goons and henchmen. He had fear of him flowing through the city's populace.
Harley shows up and mere months later somebody gives her a castle and makes her QUEEN?
That was highly unfair. Uncalled for. Unlikely. Unhappy.
Clearly she had forgotten her place in the hierarchy of things. Clearly she needed to be taken down a couple of pegs. Queen. First he would find a way to make himself king. Then, with all that power, maybe he'd cut off her head. Like King Henry. Or maybe he'd just lock her up in a tower. Or maybe he'd just beat her into submission like he usually did. Queen.
Queen!
There was no excuse for this at all. None. He was the most criminal of the criminal element. He was the scariest of scary. He was the most mischievous of the mischievous. The cream of the crop, the cat's meow.