Laughing as Harvey turned away, the Joker himself moved to check the food, reaching in with surprisingly clean hands to flip the chicken breasts. The oil popped and splattered against the crux of his thumb and index finger, making him drop the lid back on the pan and stick the sore spot in his mouth, sucking in annoyance. Ow ow ow.

"He's a schmuck, anyway," he finally said once he removed his hand from his mouth. "Don't sound so bitter." Throwing any semblance of caution he might've had in better times out the window, the Joker stepped forward to put his hand on Harvey's burnt neck. "Don't worry, though, I like them just fine."