The dishes on the table steamed, and the atmosphere grew even livelier and more cheerful. The fireplace burned hot, its flames turning the white plates a pale orange, while the silverware gleamed beneath the lights. The clinking of glasses sounded like the opening notes of a pleasant country tune from some distant memory. Behind them, the night sky was an intensely rich blue-violet, the Milky Way spilling across it, while the rippling lake in the breeze gave every star a cradle.
There was no alcohol, but such delicious food and happy conversation were intoxicating enough. Perhaps they had also eaten too many carbohydrates. After stuffing themselves, everyone's foreheads were covered in fine beads of sweat, their steps unsteady, their eyelids heavy.
Then they threw themselves onto the sofas before the fireplace, slumping in every direction, yawning and muttering things with no real meaning, like a group of happy drunks.
"All right, I admit it. If we really had to send food to Krypton, I'd choose this meal." Harley folded her hands over her stomach. She was no longer the skinny little girl she had been before. As she grew older, she had begun to grow taller and fill out, with even a little more flesh on her cheeks than the other Harley Quinns, which only made her look younger.
"How many flatbreads did you eat?" Pamela slowly turned her head and asked.
"Three, I think. What about you?"
"Ha! Harley Quinzel! You'll weigh five pounds more tomorrow morning." Pamela grinned. "I only had one."
"Don't think I didn't see you eat five whole lamb ribs, and they were fried." Tim immediately exposed her. "You won't be any better off."
"Sorry, I can use magic." Pamela said smugly. Then she wriggled a little, reached back to pull her long hair free,