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Harley Quinn (i_lovemrj) wrote in we_coexist,

“Yeah, I got that.” Harl rolled her eyes, not caring a bit if the chick saw it or not. It was pretty obvious that she hadn’t been paying attention, didn’t really need to get said, did it? At least she apologized.

But her lip still curled in revulsion as she watched the woman step on her cigarette. It wasn’t that Harley had anything against vices. On the contrary, she encouraged indulging them as often and as much as a person wanted to. What was the point of living if you couldn’t have a little fun? She’d been known to indulge in a cigar now and then, for effect, for celebration. But cigarettes were not only a daily habit, they were a smelly one.

It wasn’t the health issue that irritated Harley. It was that the scent got into her clothes. It wasn’t like she could just go drop a harlequin outfit off at the dry cleaners. They asked questions. Plus, they always messed up her liliripes and made them wilty. There was nothing sadder than a harlequin with wilty liliripes.

“That’s still gross,” she announced firmly. Then in a perverse twist that she didn’t even stop to question, Harley commanded, “You oughtta pick that up. That’s littering.”