Ivy having to die Harleys hair red and blue?
this will not be three sentences at all
It started when Harley asked Pam to grab her some dye from the store around corner, and Pam got thinking about just how much dye Harley must go through, how many chemicals are in that, how much damage that must be doing to people and the earth alike. There had to be a better way, she reasoned. And surely she could take a day or two off from terrorizing Gotham with killer plants to find that better way.
(Also, she’d been incredibly comfortable on the couch and really hadn’t wanted to get up and go to the store.)
It ended up being more of a week long process, as Pam figured out how to grow plants that made just the right dyes and sought out test subjects. It was amazing how willing the college kids were to let you test things on them for a little cash, even the ones who had been born and bred in the city. As long as you swore that you weren’t testing out any fear toxin or Joker gas they were usually more than happy to go along with it, and Pam wasn’t asking them to try out anything worse than hair dye.
Granted, after the final rounds of testing some of them were going to be left with red or blue hair permanently. She’d conveniently forgotten to mention that part.
“That’s nice, Pammy,” Harley said, when the long-lasting all-natural eco-friendly dye was ready to go. “I love that ya actually went to all the trouble of making that for me. But I actually like changing the colors sometimes, ya know? Plus I kinda got bored of waiting and just bought dye myself. We’re out of orange juice, though. Think you could - ”
“Grow a tree with oranges designed for optimal pulp-free juice production?” Pam interrupted. She was nodding, smiling to herself, already planning it out. “Yes, of course. Give me just a minute.”
“The store, you goof! I meant the store!”
“Just a minute! This is so much more fun.”