Harley Quinn

- We both moved to Metropolis at the same time. - On the same block.

- And for three years, we both worked on the 16th floor-- - 17th floor.

- ...at the Daily Planet where-- - I was a beat reporter covering City Hall.

Yes, you were.

- And I was on the sports desk covering baseball. - Football.

Right, right, right.

- For three years, we never met. - Three whole years.

Then one day, I was on the F train to get a blowout,

and Metallo derailed my train. Sent it airborne.

So I, uh... So I caught that train and set it down

on top of the LexCorp building just to talk to her.

Yes, you did.

I had to reschedule my hair appointment.

Holy shit. Do I love Valentine's Day?

Not only is it the gushiest, mushiest, most romantic day of the year,

but for 24 hours, you have a bulletproof excuse

for doing super cheesy shit for your partner.

You can eat as much chocolate as you want, no judgment.

And it's super fucking cold in February,

so it's the perfect excuse to snuggle.

What's not to love about Valentine's Day?

Oh, I don't know. It's just one of the most egregiously wasteful holidays

in terms of nonbiodegradable packaging.

Not to mention, an annual mass genocide for roses.

I could go on.

Oh, come on, Ive. This is our very first Valentine's Day together.

Look, turn off the jazz documentary and let's go out.

Sweetie, I'm only on episode 11.

Fats Waller hasn't even gotten fat yet.

I promise, if you let me have this one,

I will never bring it up again.

You will absolutely bring it up every year.

Yeah, but with less gusto.

Fine, fine. Honey, fine, fine.

I'm saying, "fine." Look at me. I'm saying fine.

Just as long as it's, you know, low-key.

Fine. We'll have a quiet dinner for two at Mama Macaroni's,

where the breadstick basket, much like my love for you, is bottomless.

Uh, you got me there.

All right, fine. Let me, let me change out

of my bingeing sweats and we'll get out of here.

It is the feast of St. Valentine,

and I, Clayface, have met a special someone online.

Dude, that's literally Jason Momoa.

You're getting catfished.

Jerry from Hoboken, New Jersey begs to differ.

Awesome. So look, if he does end up murdering you,

I'm not gonna identify your corpse unless

I'm, like, in the area and it's really convenient.

Who is pumped for the best VD ever?

I mean, ugh, look, you know what I meant.

Mm-hmm. Honey, I am so pumped because it's gonna be great.

It's not gonna be great.

It's gonna be the best Valentine's Day ever!

Right, because it's so low-key.

Uh-huh.

So, Clock King tells me you're going

to a painting and wine-drinking event tonight for Valentine's Day.

Mmm, that sounds colorful and fun.

Ugh. Yeah, well, Clocky likes it and it basically guarantees sex,

so I'll suffer through it.

I wish I had a special someone with whom to spend the evening.

Oh, here we go.

I'm on all the dating apps, but haven't swiped right once.

I can't get past the profiles.

Does no one understand correct grammar, dangling modifiers,

sentence fragments, using the word "anyways" as a transition...

It's "anyway"!

There's no "S"!

And as you know, nothing turns me off more

than reckless disregard for language.

Does anyone know that?

You do now.

"Anyway," it appears I'll be spending my Valentine's alone

in darkness and solitude, where I was born.

Unless that painting and wining event has, uh, any openings...

No.

Mmm.

Mama Macaroni Get in my mouth

I have got to hand it to you, Harls.

You've managed to keep V-Day low-key.

I appreciate that.

Aw, I'm really best at listening, ain't I?

In regards to tonight?

Yes.

Ah, signoras, it is your lucky night.

You have been selected to sample a new item

from the chef's experimental menu.

- This is a vegan La-zeat-balls. - Ooh, yeah!

They are a lasagna inside a baked ziti inside a fried meatball.

Also known as the Tuscan turducken.

What... Oh, fuck my taste buds. The fuck?

Ive, what are the odds that your three favorite dishes

ate each other and now, you get to eat that?

Harley, you're gonna have to get in on this before I inhale it,

'cause it's just like... It's like Under the Tuscan Sun

is, like, playing inside my mouth right now

and we're, like, in the third act where, like, Diane Lane, just, like,

met the American writer and, like, they leave it open-ended but you know

everything's going to work out which is so artful and--

Mmm. Goddamn da ding-dong, these are fucking good.

Ahhh!

All right. Sorry to crash Valentine's Day, lovebirds.

But if the chef don't hand over his recipe for those La-zeat-balls,

we'll blow the whole ristorante back to the old country.

Please, just take the recipe, and don't hurt nobody, huh?

In the name of the father, the son, and the Mama Macaroni.

Pleasure doing business with ya.

Come on, boys. Andiamo-ce.

Go, go, go.

Okay. We have to do something.

That recipe cannot fall into the wrong hands.

It's just too damn delicious.

Getaway car is headed toward Robinson Park.

Ha-ha! Wrong move, you dipshits.

You just picked the most densely-planted park in all of Gotham.

Hyah!

Whoo!

Ahhh!

Please, ladies. Don't kill us.

Fork it over. Fork over the La-zeat-balls recipe, you fuckstick.

We were just the middle men.

We was hired by the CEO of Luxor Oil.

Yeah, his appetite for unsustainable fossil fuel

and new takes on traditional Italian cooking are both insatiable.

Turn over the recipe for the La-zeat-balls, Ivy,

or else the love of your life dies.

And on Valentine's Day, no less.

Ahhh!

That's right. I just gave you the bird.

As in whirlybird, which is another name for helicop--

You know what? Just never mind.

It doesn't matter. I'm... I'm alive, and you're dead.

Oh, my God, Ive. It's over.

You saved me. You saved us all.

Wait, Harley. Did... did you stage all of this for me?

- Yeah. - I thought it was the only way

you'd let me give you the best Valentine's Day ever.

What about the oil exec?

That was actually the CEO of Luxor Oil.

I had him shipped in, special for you,

and told him I'd kill him unless he pointed a gun at me.

I know it wasn't exactly low-key like you asked for.

- But, you know, it was, uh-- - I love you so much, peanut.

That's your cue, Etrigan.

Hellfire from below, glow from death and decay,

light up the sky for St. Valentine's Day.

So, would you say this is the best Valentine's Day ever?

It's so, so great.

Great.

Yeah, great. Sure.

A while back, around 2500 BC, when I went by Prince Khufu,

I was in the market having beers

with a buddy of mine named Asim, and this gorgeous Princess Chay-Ara

makes a grand entrance with this whole entourage.

It's me.

And I say to Asim,

"You see that woman?

I'm going to marry her."

Now, this was ancient Egypt, so she didn't have much of a choice.

- Yeah, no choice, no choice. - Two weeks later, we were married,

- and it lasted about 40 years. - Lovely years.

- And then we were murdered by Hittites. - Murdered horribly.

- But we were reincarnated and found each other again. - We did.

- We married. We died. - Yeah.

- We got reincarnated. - Yup.

- Time and again-- - Again.

...we always managed to find each other.

And here we are, 5,000 years later, still together.

- Yeah? - Jerry, it is I, Clayface.

So eager to meet you in the flesh, yet, uh, mystified

that the address seems to be in Crime Alley.

Yeah, that's right.

It's a... It's a new vegan coffee shop.

It just opened in the very darkest part.

Mystery solved through the miracle of gentrification.

OMW.

Hmm.

There it is. Is that it? No, that's not it. Wait a minute.

Vegan coffee shop, vegan coffee shop.

Wait a minute.

All coffee is vegan.

I've been had.

Well, that was a piece of piss.

Jerry from Hoboken?

Aw, you brought me a flower. You bloody drongo.

Oh, dear.

I don't believe I understood a word you said.

Are you bloody serious, mate?

You don't have any cash.

Just two nosebleed seat tickets to some shitty show at Gotham Amphitheater.

I was going to surprise you.

Well, now I'm defo gonna kill ya.

Ahhh!

Ah! Too-roo.

I'm so glad you talked me into that.

That... What a great night.

Yeah. No. I'm glad you thought it was great.

Which is a word reserved for things that are the very best they can be.

Like how a Greatest Hits album is full of a band's best songs