Riddles are your compulsion. Your addiction.

[Edward Nigma awoke one night and quickly realized that something was amiss. Being in Mayfield, he would have been accustomed to waking up in a strange place with strange clothes that did not belong to him. But waking up in a gaudy hotel room with the girlfriend of one of the most feared psychopaths in Gotham lying next to you? Yeah, this definitely wasn't right.

Trying, but failing, to keep his composure, he tossed the bouquet of roses that he had been holding aside and nudged Harley's arm to rouse her awake. Gently first. Then a bit urgently.]

Harley. Harley!