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♡♦♡ I MISS MY PUDDIN' IS ALL, BERNIE SOMEONE WHO LOVES ME FOR WHAT I AM ♡♦♡
"Don't get many folks looking for these," the car salesman said to Harley, nodding at her Smart Car. "Everybody wants hybrids or something they can plug their iPods into, along with GPS and a camera in the rear —"
"Not me, toots," Harley said. The tough-Brooklyn-cookie voice seemed to have settled in for good. This event took place years ago, when the Joker was alive and him and her were still together. He had gotten locked up only four weeks after Harleen turned into Harley Quinn, and so she had created a plan to bail him out. He was stationed in Arkham Asylum, the very same place the former psychiatrist worked at just a month ago. It was still up and running, though under heavy construction from when the Joker had his men raid the place and kidnap the workers so he could be set free. Harley looked out over the sea of cars in the lot. "I know where I'm goin' so I don't need GPS. If I wanna see what's behind me, I look in the rear-view mirror. Ya got any cars that, you know, ya just get in and drive?"
He laughed. "Not afraid of car thieves?"
"Nah. Everybody wants hybrids they can plug into their iPods or something," she said. "That's what a good-lookin' used-car salesman told me, anyway." She tapped the end of his nose with her index finger. "Boop!"
The man laughed again, blushing, and Harley realized he was a nice guy. How could a used-car salesman be a nice guy? What was the world coming to? It was probably Batman's fault.
"We do have a few vehicles that don't come equipped with all the latest bells and whistles." Taking her elbow, he walked her through the dealership building and out the back door to where several older cars were parked.
"I gotta tell you, they're all high mileage and one or two have rebuilt engines," he said. "But they run just fine. Used to be parents got one of these for their kid— Junior's first car, you know? But nowadays, Mom and Dad want GPS and lo-jacks."
Harley shook her head. "No respect for their kids' privacy." She ambled over to look at a dark blue four-door hatchback.
"You don't have kids, do you," asked the man.
"No. But if I did, I'd respect their boundaries," Harley said. "So tell me about dis one."
The man was still blushing a little. "Well, it actually was someone's first car..."
After almost an hour and two brief test drives, Harley decided on the hatchback. Four doors meant no struggling to get into or out of the backseat and the hatch was handy for groceries and things. Her puddin' needed good food to make him well. No proper trunk, but cops always looked there first anyway.
