He snorts at that, knowing he's a bit of a dandy when it comes to colors, though he'd look in just about anything. He knows it, and he flaunts it. Joker, on the other hand, it would be hard to see him in anything like that. All he sees is that vibrant coloration of him, like some exotic bird that got beat around far too many times, missing a piece here or there.

"Better than torture or losing yourself in whatever else they are offering," he says, not quite shy to pain yet unwilling to indulge in anything unnecessary. Even Joker knows the man barely moves unless he has to. He hears the hint and glances forward towards the farm. The hard work is in the soil and he may as well set himself there if he wishes to continue any conversation, "Fair enough. You'll find me on my hands and knees weeding." There's no 'if I can get it' from him. He'll take it if he has to.