The Joker's tongue flashed out beyond his lips as he savored the taste. "Yeaaaaah. Metallic. Huh. Well, you gotta do that every once in a while. Try it, remind yourself how it tastes."
He laughed. "Handsome guy like you? I don't doubt it! But I figure, you can't communicate much through just licking the stuff."
"And anyway, it was barely a scratch at all," he said, leaning forward to inspect the magically disappearing wounds. "Now isn't that neat," he murmured. He flipped back his coat and the side of his shirt now that it was open, trailing a shallow line in a semi-circle. He dug the knife in a few inches above it and spun it around, drilling out a circle of flash. A little further over, he did it again, and left a garish, dripping smiley-face behind.
He noticed, suddenly, that Remy wasn't paying attention. He straightened, taking him by the jaw. "Look up. It's not polite to stop paying attention."