[ Well. Harley walks around with two pet hyenas. She's not judging someone who keeps company with a goat, that's for sure. Bud and Lou are well-behaved, though, at least for her; whether or not they'll behave for almost anyone else is a crapshoot. ]

Iusus. Huh. That's Bud. And that's Lou. [ She's not really pointing out which one is which and, frankly, she's not sure if Bud and Lou know which one is which at this point since she doesn't refer to them as anything but "the babies" and "my babies" and occasionally, when no one's looking "my schnookums". But the last one is reserved for when they've managed not to eat someone else's pet. ]

'm Harley. I'd shake your hand or somethin' but those jerkwads out there injected something into my neck. Guess they don't like people who don't cooperate.

[ Shockingly. Did anyone like people who didn't cooperate? Her experience has been 'not so much'.

Moving her head -- which feels like it's full of lead -- still seems like too much effort with the numbing agent still fresh in her body. And, for someone like Harley, who's used to being quick and light on her feet, it's maddening. But she manages to roll her eyes to the side to give her bedmate a once over. ]

Nice horns. What's that about?