How to Use Animals to Let Off Steam the Right Way

"Why am I the one paying?" Commissioner Gordon asked, puzzled.

"Well, I'm certainly not paying."

"Don't... there's no need to bribe those reporters." Harvey came back to his senses and shook his head. "Let them talk."

Soon, the playboy Bruce Wayne arrived as well, dressed in casual clothes.

"Good evening." Roland greeted Bruce.

"Mm." Bruce nodded, sat down beside Gordon, and started eating from a box of fries.

"By the way, Harvey, when are you planning to marry Gilda?" Bruce asked. "If you don't hurry, I might beat you to it."

"Who would've thought an upstanding-looking guy like you would have a thing for other men's wives, Bruce?" Roland glanced at Bruce. The guy really let himself go once he took off the mask.

"Ha, I'm not giving you that chance." Harvey drained a glass of cola and let out a happy burp. "Ha, getting more sugar really does help. I'm feeling much better now."

"Speaking of which... are you all right after what happened just now?" Commissioner Gordon asked worriedly.

"It's nothing. I just lost control of my emotions for a moment." Harvey smiled. "Don't worry. I've seen a therapist. It's nothing serious, just a stress response from keeping too much bottled up."

"You're sure you're all right?" Roland asked skeptically.

"Of course."

"Then I've got some bad news for you. Scarecrow, Jonathan Crane, whom you all worked together to put behind bars last month, was released two hours ago due to insufficient evidence." Roland looked at his phone. "A witness recanted."

"What?" Harvey flew into a rage. Veins bulged on his hands as he hoisted the table up.

"What are you, Raven? Flipping tables at the drop of a hat." Roland hurried to rescue the fried chicken and fries falling off the table.

"Harvey, calm down!" Bruce urged.

"How am I supposed to calm down?" Harvey hurled the table aside in fury. "They let that goddamn murderer out! Insufficient evidence, my ass! Someone's trying to get him off on grounds of mental illness again so they can put Scarecrow to work for them!"

"Harvey, I know you're angry, but acting irrationally isn't going to help." Commissioner Gordon caught one of Harvey's hands and tried to reason with him, his own expression grim.

A murderer he had spent so much time and effort catching, risking his life in the process, had simply been set free. Gordon was seething, too.

"Why don't we go kill Scarecrow?" Roland suggested.

"Yes! That's the only way to put an end to Gotham City's evil!" Harvey clenched his fist and punched it forward. "Let's go!"

"Could you stop making things worse?" Gordon glared at Roland, then joined Bruce in blocking Harvey's path.

The three struggled for a while before they finally managed to restrain Harvey.

Bruce wiped away his sweat. "Seriously, Harvey, you should find a new therapist. I think you've got a pretty serious problem."

Once he calmed down, Harvey felt guilty at the sight of the bruised eye he had given his old friend. "Sorry. I lost my head."

Roland glanced at Bruce. The guy really knew how to put on an act.

The four made small talk for a while longer, but Harvey's outburst and the news about Scarecrow had cast a pall over the gathering. Before long, they parted ways and headed home.

Before leaving, Bruce looked at Harvey as though he wanted to say something. After a long silence, he finally asked, "By the way, did your therapist suggest letting off some steam in moderation?"

"He did." Harvey nodded. "Why do you ask?"

"Uh... I was wondering how you let off steam," Batman continued, fishing for information.

"Nothing unusual. I bought a punching bag and put it in my house. When I'm feeling down, I hit it for a while," Harvey said. "Is there a problem?"

"Oh... so that's it." Since Harvey hadn't mentioned animals at all, Bruce found it awkward to bring the subject up directly. "If you're having trouble with that, I know a few excellent therapists... and zoologists."

"Are you planning to get me an emotional support dog?" Harvey hadn't understood what Bruce meant.

"What I mean is, pets can distract you, relieve stress, and provide companionship. They can help ease your depression," Bruce said. "But if you try animal-assisted therapy, it's best to have a therapist guide you."

...Do I really need guidance to pet a dog? Harvey was confused, but his guilt over injuring his close friend kept him from arguing with Bruce. He simply nodded. "Got it. If I need help with that, I'll come to you."

"Good." Bruce got into his luxury car. "Goodbye, Harvey."

"Goodbye, Bruce." Harvey waved to him. The battered streetlight beside him flickered, its light falling across his face to reveal half a smile.

Back home, Harvey quickly showered, drank a glass of warm milk, and fell into a deep sleep.

In his dream, Harvey found himself surrounded by thick gray fog. His surroundings were cold and damp, oppressively so.

Harvey kept running forward, but he couldn't escape the fog. He fell flat on the ground, suffocating under the weight of dread and fear.

"Harvey... Harvey..." A familiar voice called to him, only making him more afraid.

"Harvey Dent..."

"No, go away! Stay away from me!" Harvey clutched his head and ran wildly forward.

"Hahahaha... Harvey, you can't hide from me... it's time." A tall figure slowly appeared in front of Harvey. He looked much like Harvey, only older and more vicious.

"Get away! I don't want to see you!" Harvey began to tremble. He kept roaring to mask the fear inside him.

"A person is never just one. The splitting never stops. Everyone has two sides to their personality. He is two people. They coexist in the same body—often uncomfortably." The tall figure gave a strange laugh, repeatedly tossing and catching a coin.

"I don't want to see you! Get lost!"

"It's no use, Harvey... I am you... wherever you hide, you'll never get rid of me!"

The coin rose and fell, over and over, tormenting Harvey's nerves.

"No!" Harvey jolted awake from the nightmare, drenched in sweat.

"Goddammit..." Harvey cursed, pulled open the curtains, and stared blankly into the Gotham City night.