Harley wiped the mallet onto a nearby guard's shirt. She seemed so preoccupied with what she was doing, she forgot she had the keys.
Under her jacket was a holster, and in that holster was a still-warm Chiappa Rhino 60DS. "They won't be getting up for awhile!" She giggled. Oh, right, the keys.
Harley came over to the cell, sat her mallet down and unlocked the door. She swung it open and held her arms around. "C'mere, Puddin'!"