This weird little island was so quiet, an arriving guest might have mistaken it for dead. The woman whose mismatched mules (one black, one red) graced the steps of Pick Your Poison had definitely wondered, if for a split second.

Then she'd tossed the thought aside. She was here with a mission, and she wasn't going to get distracted! Much. No. Not even by the flamingos. (She was tempted.)

No. She'd been searching for this place for a long time, and now she'd found it, and she planned to fling the door open, like so, and she was gonna find her girl, and she was gonna say--

"Hi, minion," she chirped in her nasal Brooklyn accent. She was tall, with red and black ribbons in her hair - much longer than Fandom's Harley Quinn, tied up into two ponytails that reached her hips, wearing a black leather jacket over her red-and-black mid-riff baring top and pants. "Where's yer bathroom? I haven't peed since Wilmington."

"Aren't you clever," Harley said, already reaching to tug off one of her (red, naturally) gloves. "Ya know, I've been lookin' for ages. It's like somebody's hiding this place in their back pocket with all the lint or somethin'."

"Probably not!"

At least she was cheerful about it. And she remembered to get the door!

"I've been following in her footsteps. Through her letters," Harley said. "And that one weird phone call where she did nothin' but breathe."

"Coffee. Buckets of sugar." Was that a wise idea? Ehn. "But thanks!"

She sprinted past Adrian in the indicated direction, vanishing behind the small door.

And then immediately reappearing.

"Wait, is Pammy actually here?"

Awwww. Good minion.

"Thanks, minion!" Harley called, and then she was off to the bathroom. Oof, her bladder felt like a grenade about to go off.

"There," Harley sighed as she closed the door behind her, unaware of any frantic texting going on. "Balloon's all deflated!"

Thanks, Harls.

"What'd you say your name was, minion?" Would she remember? It'd be a surprise!

She took the coffee. She also took the sugar bowl. In went some sugar. And some more sugar. And some...

"I don't know who you are at all," Harley offered, after adding another scoop. "But you're a guy who works for Pam and you're alive! Good job!"

Satisfied with the sugar content of her coffee, Harley lifted her cup to her mouth, listening as he spoke, and--

"Oooh, are those bath bombs?"

She shoved the cup onto the nearest available surface and rushed into the shop.

She was going through them now with a less than delicate touch, picking one up then setting it aside and grabbing another. Her fingers were coated in glitter already.

"'s funny," Harley said. "Never thought Red would be into bath stuff... She's really goin' through something."

"Months. I've been allll over. Even saw the world's biggest ball of twine," Harley said. She looked at Adrian over her shoulder. "She's coming back here, right?"

"Okay."

Harley put the little purple bomb back... Sort of where she found it.

"Good. 'Cause Pammy needs me."

"She's eatin' herself alive when she doesn't need to be," Harley said, tapping the side of her head. "She's not always good at figurin' out her own noggin, you know?"

"Yeah! So now I'm here to--"

Harley jerked at the sound of the door slamming open.

That was Pam.

"I got your letters," Harley said, eyes wide. And then, after a second: "... Are ya gonna say something? 'Cause I drove all this way from Gotham--"