Must Love Hyenas

06: Having Fun

Harleen held up the suit by the hangar it was draped over, offering it for John's inspection.

"You can't be serious," John protested.

"Of course, I'm not serious," Harleen confirmed. "You can't be serious about humor. It's supposed to be crazy and off of center, deviation from the expected is what makes it fun."

John got off his bunk and looked over the purple suit Harleen had brought him. The jacket had long tails in the back as if he was going to be performing at a classical music concert. A bright flower of yellow plastic marked the lapel.

"Check this out," Harleen said, squeezing something in her hand. The yellow flower John had been looking at sprayed a stream of cold water in his face. Harleen burst out laughing, and John even managed a chuckle of amusement. "See? Even in a gloomy old city like Gotham, there's fun to be had."

"Even if you have to make it yourself," John added.

"Whether found or made, it's still fun," Harleen stated. She held the suit out to him. "Get dressed. I've got plans for our evening."

***

John was wearing the purple suit jacket and matching slacks, sitting uncomfortably at an empty table in the cafeteria. A few of the other patients glanced in his direction occasionally as it was his first time being out of his cell for meal time and they were interested in the newcomer.

Harleen entered the room in spectacular fashion, throwing open the double doors, and once certain the pathway was clear, she cartwheeled her way down the aisle to where John was waiting.

"Tada!" Harleen said when she arrived, holding her hands up in the air proudly.

John was too stunned to say anything. He stared in bewilderment at Harleen's choice of attire as she was clad from the neck down in a black and red jester costume. The material was shiny and sung, similar to a gymnastics outfit. Black ruffles marked the ends of her sleeves and wrapped around her wrists.  Her blonde hair had been pulled intopigtails.

After her spectacular entrance, the medical staff was staring too, but she was only interested in how John reacted. Harleen watched him closely as she pulled out a chair and sat down across from him. When John swallowed with some difficulty, she had to force herself not to smile any wider. It was very clear to her John liked what he saw, so she knew her chosen attire was having the desired effect.

"What do you think of Harley Quinn?" she asked, and it took John a moment to find his tongue.

"It's, ah, very nice," he managed to reply. John looked around, noticing their being the center of attention.

"Hey," Harleen said, taking him by the hand. "Don't worry about them. They're not eating with us. We're going to be silly and enjoy ourselves. What difference does it make what they think? Let 'em stare and realize what they're missing. They can be serious if they want, but I'd rather have fun. Wouldn't you?"

John's focus returned to her, and he even cracked a small smile.

"That's better," Harley praised. She turned and whistled to the orderly with the serving cart. "Hey, waiter! We're ready to order."

The hospital orderly, dressed in faded blue scrubs, pushed a squeaking food cart over to their table and offloaded one tray for each of them and a pair of water cups. The trays were covered with a translucent white plastic, making the appearance of the food underneath nothing more than unrecognizable colored shapes. The orderly didn't voice his disapproval of Harleen and John, but a scowl was permanently affixed to his face. Once finished with his work, he departed without a word.

"I don't think he likes us," John observed.

"Who cares?" Harleen dismissed. "If your level of fun is based on the opinions of other people, you'll never have any. There will always be someone who's miserable in their life and wants you to feel the same. They see people being happier than they are, and it makes them more miserable because they don't have it. They're dark little clouds who want to rain on everyone's parade."

She took her clear plastic cup of water and held it up. "To making gloomy people jealous of our fun."

John's smile widened and his raised his cup to hers.

After the toast, they removed the lids from their food trays to inspect what had been allocated for the asylum inmates. Salisbury steak patties covered in brown gravy, mashed potatoes, and steamed vegetables so under-cooked they were practically raw. A small plastic container of chocolate pudding with a foil lid sat in the corner of the tray.

John pressed his thumb into the mashed potatoes, making a smiley face. Using a spoon, he ladled in some gravy to fill the depressions and add color to his creation. When he looked toward Harleen, he found her smiling with delight, and his own smile widened in response.

Harleen removed the foil cover from her desert and scooped out some of the pudding on her fingertip. Quickly reaching across the table, she dabbed the chocolate onto John's nose.

"Hi, Puddin'," Harley said with a playful wave to him before lapsing into a fit of laughter.

John also started laughing, giving no concern over the stares everyone else in the room was giving them.