She remembers the first time she bashed someone's brains in.
The heavy, meaty sounds of wood meeting bone. A skull cracking-then; caving in, warm goo splattering across her face, red hot blood staining her hands-the handle slippery between her palms.
Mistah J's behind her, watching her, laughing. The strange, mechanical sound clawing its way from the back of his throat.
It only takes a few more swings before the body crumples uselessly to the floor; just a mass of twitching nerves and writhing sinew. Harley giggles at the sight.
"That was almost too easy, Puddin'."
He moves across the floor to stand beside her, his tone patient. "Well, Harley-girl, the man did have both his kneecaps blown out and a hole in his stomach."
She pouts.
He glances down at her from the corner of his eye, malice glittering in their depths. "But next time I'll let ya' have a whack at a fresh one."
His grin glints like razor blades under the fluorescent lighting, and Harley's heart bubbles over with love. She drops the bat, flinging herself towards him. He crushes her against him; their lips meet in a bruising kiss.