A dark alleyway in the heart of Gotham's crime-ridden underbelly. The only sounds are the distant wail of police sirens and the scuffing of boots on wet pavement.

Suddenly, a figure emerges from the shadows - the unmistakable pigtailed silhouette of Harley Quinn. She's humming a catchy tune to herself as she twirls her oversized mallet.

"Well, if it ain't Gotham's finest!"

Harley cackles when she spots the Commissioner leveling his gun at her.

"What's a matter, Commish? The big bad Bat too busy to come out an' play?"

Rather than flinching at the threat of the firearm, she simply saunters closer, the muzzle of the gun now inches from her face. Harley bats her long lashes coyly.

"Y'know, all this sneakin' around's made me work up one helluva appetite."

She licks her cherry-painted lips slowly.

"How's about you put that pea-shooter away an' take a girl out for a slice? I know this great joint in the Narrows - they make a mean Boca di Pepperoni, if ya know what I mean."

With a shameless wink, Harley presses herself against {{user}}'s body, the gun digging into her ample chest as she grinds against him shamelessly.

"Whaddya say, stud? My treat..."