Dream Post [03] Harley's not happy...
"Stupid, stupid, stupid men!" Harley shrieked, blasting away another wooden mannequin with an unexplained, self-reloading bazooka. The pieces of singed wood flew through the air, joining their place with the other broken limbs of former mannequins on the floor.
"Stupid! And ungrateful! And just... so... ARGH!" With each yell Harley shot another mannequin down from its strings. The room was full of them, wooden mannequins all hung up by strings like puppets, painted in the likeness of men Harley happened to know. Several red-headed ones had been blown apart already, and there were a couple that looked something like ninjas. There were also quite a few dressed in black capes with pointed hoods, but who the hell dressed up like that? Seriously...
Harley continued to fire away and scream until the room became so filled with dust and smoke that it was near impossible to see anything.
At this point, Harley's violent, trigger-happy mood had passed and she coughed, dropping the weapon so that she could use her hands to fan the air around her. There were some soft sniffles and as the haze cleared, only one mannequin remained hanging. Its face was painted white, messy brush strokes indicated that its hair was green and it was dressed in a ragged purple suit, but perhaps its most dominant feature was the grotesquely wide grin.
"Oh... Mistah J..." Harley muttered, rubbing one hand against her eyes.
She missed him.
"Stupid! And ungrateful! And just... so... ARGH!" With each yell Harley shot another mannequin down from its strings. The room was full of them, wooden mannequins all hung up by strings like puppets, painted in the likeness of men Harley happened to know. Several red-headed ones had been blown apart already, and there were a couple that looked something like ninjas. There were also quite a few dressed in black capes with pointed hoods, but who the hell dressed up like that? Seriously...
Harley continued to fire away and scream until the room became so filled with dust and smoke that it was near impossible to see anything.
At this point, Harley's violent, trigger-happy mood had passed and she coughed, dropping the weapon so that she could use her hands to fan the air around her. There were some soft sniffles and as the haze cleared, only one mannequin remained hanging. Its face was painted white, messy brush strokes indicated that its hair was green and it was dressed in a ragged purple suit, but perhaps its most dominant feature was the grotesquely wide grin.
"Oh... Mistah J..." Harley muttered, rubbing one hand against her eyes.
She missed him.