This time, Harley ain't sad to leave Gotham and its questionable luxuries behind. Okay, Gotham might win out in terms of convenience store accessibility, cell phone reception, and public sanitation (although Harley ain't so sure about that last one). But with this bottomless bag she got from Zatanna she can at least carry some of the comforts of the good life with her.
"So, what are we after this time? Poachers? Illegal wood clearings? El Dorado? I'm for all of that, preferably in that order."
Ivy pays her no mind, it being occupied with reacquainting itself most like. Harley spreads a checkered blanket over the mulchy and uneven soil, takes some soda and sammiches from her cooler, and hides her boombox in a thicket so Ivy won't spot it right away. Harley's created a mixtape for the occasion.
She waits for Ivy to turn before she presses play. Axl Rose welcomes them to their surroundings.
The speakers are loud, but even they couldn't drown out the sudden burst as all wildlife in a one-mile radius took off simultaneously.
"What are you doing?" A liana cracks down on the boombox, hitting stop with impeccable aim.
"...Turning this into a romantic picnic?"
"By ruining the atmosphere with this horrible noise?"
"For the record – pun intended – I was setting the mood."
So much for her grand idea of charming Red. Axl's probably never been to this particular jungle, and certainly not with this very sexy lady. Else he would've written a different song.