Here she was, talking to one of the few people she actually knew, and for a change it was a nice conversation and he was just about to tell her if he’d seen her Puddin’ and now somebody was shooting at them? Oh, that was just uncalled for.
Then, then, the silly bat went and decided he had to protect her. Her! Like she needed it. It was to laugh, as Mr. J would say. Still it was awfully sweet of him to be such a gentleman about things when there was glop hanging offa his face. ‘Course, he was sorta like that. He’d saved her dress once, after a full day of leading him on a wild goose chase. With a hostage even! Deep down, Harley suspected Batman was a nice guy.
And really, guys like that who fought crime didn’t come along all that often. Come to think of it, in all the times they fought, not once had he really gotten low down and dirty about it. He’d definitely bordered on cheating more than once, but that was something Harley could appreciate when it was done right. He could have been a lot nastier, a lot, but he wasn’t, and now he was trying to protect her from…
Butterflies.
Harley blinked. They were purple and green butterflies. And while she could definitely appreciate the color scheme, the wings were really kinda weird. Her bemusement, though, only lasted for a moment before she recalled that the pudgy one had said something. Something about preparing to be humiliated. Something directed at the Bat.
Her eyes narrowed. First they tried to steal her Puddin’s color scheme, and messed it up horribly by sticking it on butterfly costumes. Then they tried to horn in on his schtick as a bad guy, when they were obviously no good at it. But they crossed the line if they thought they were gonna steal her man’s favorite nemesis. They had another thing coming!
And that thing was gonna be her fist in their face! Harley was well and truly irritated now. So much so that she unpeeled herself from the tall form she’d been clinging to, though it did take a moment to wriggle out of his grasp. But wriggle she did, until she was free to stand in front of him, between him and these wannabe villains.
“Hey! Go find your own vigilante! This one is taken,” she announced sternly, reaching for her pop gun. Casually, she loaded a canister of explosives in the barrel before adding, “And while you’re at it, find some new colors, those are taken too. You really don’t want to make me cranky. Go on, shoo.”
Harley stomped her foot, and made a waving motion with her free hand. “Shoo!”