Roller skates made locomotion so much easier. Sure, she could do the lying low thing, trying to be inconspicuous. But Harley always sort of thought those were the sort of people who looked most suspicious. After all, who would be crazy enough to case a place while on roller skates?
Harley Quinn, that’s who! Crazy like a fox! She couldn’t prevent the giggle that escaped her as she rounded yet another couch, using the arm to pull herself through the tight corner. There was a small ripping sound, but Harley didn’t bother to look back at the couch she’d just damaged. That would be admitting culpability and she was in the mood to pretend it hadn’t happened.
None of the couches she’d seen thus far were at all what she wanted. She wanted something puffy. Something that would take the impact of a body hitting it. Maybe repeatedly. Harley liked to flop when she sat, the sprawl of limbs that resulted feeling more natural and comfortable than if she settled down all prim and proper. Besides, once she found her babies, they’d love the cushioning. So would her Puddin’. Plus, more stuffing meant more flammable and that was always fun.
So since she couldn’t find a couch to suit, maybe a chair would be better. With a little lean, she rolled down the narrow aisle towards the section with Lazyboys lined up like squat, fat, colorful soldiers. Maybe she could get a couple of big, puffy chairs and stuff them with big, puffy pillows, and then she’d have a big, puffy place to sit. By herself.
For now. That’d change soon. First she needed the chairs. And some pillows. And just like that, Fate gave Harley what she was seeking. Dead ahead was some guy holding a pillow in each hand, looked like he’d be an easy target. Okay, the funky checked one was sorta ugly, but that was a nice shade of green. Yeah, she said she wanted red, but Mister J liked green. She should have a few in that shade too, right?
Wheels whirring beneath her feet, she snagged the green pillow right out of the stuffed shirt’s hand as she rolled by, pleased by how easy that had been. But the cushion did not feel at all right in her hands. It was sorta hard and firm and not puffy by any stretch of the imagination. It didn’t feel pillow-like at all, it was just pillow shaped. Who picked this sort of thing out? Even as she should have been celebrating her triumph, her face fell. Tilting one foot downward, she used the toe-stop to simultaneously halt and spin around to face the guy.