[ That lick sends a shudder right through him. God, her tongue's so wet.

Joker wipes at his cheek with the back of his hand, feeling unclean. ]

Fate. Sure. We'll go with that.

[ He's not the sort of man who believes in karmic comeuppance. But right about now, well. It's hard not to wonder.

Joker gives Harley a light pat-pat on the head--that's a good girl; off you go now--then begins the process of attempting to extricate himself from beneath her. He's gently pushing her, trying to ease her off of him, while also trying to wriggle his body out from underneath her. This turns out to not be quite as simple a maneuver as he'd hoped, and with both of them sitting on the floor, he can't even just stand up and dump her. ]

It's... some sort of powdery stuff. [ Wriggle, wriggle. ] There--on the table, see? Yours is the one to the right.

[ Imaginary Harley protests at him giving her food away--"Hey!"--but Joker's a little too preoccupied at the moment to care. ]

Why don't you go give it a try, hm?