Jason: Hey, brat, do you have to sit so close to the TV? Back up or it’ll hurt your eyes.
Damian: It will not.
Jason: *holding his fist up* Oh, yes, it will.
Damian: *slowly turns his head away from the TV to glare at his older brother*
~ · ~ · ~ · ~ · ~ · ~
Narrator’s Voice: Oh, something hurt indeed. And someone learned a valuable lesson that afternoon.
Mornings at the Manor…
Tim and Damian: *bickering at the breakfast table*
Bruce: Quiet, you two! If I hear one more word, Tim doesn’t get to drink coffee and Damian doesn’t get to go on patrol.
Tim: Bruce!
Damian: Father!
Bruce: Not. One. Word.
Tim and Damian: *start insulting each other by lightly tapping spoons and banging salt and pepper shakers*
Bruce: I thought I told you two to knock it off.
Tim: We didn’t say anything!
Damian: Not one word!
Bruce: Well, no Morse code either.
Damian: Todd! Todd! I had a bad dream. Can I sleep in your bed?
Jason: Nope.
Damian: I’ll give you one of Father’s newest batarangs!
Jason: Climb aboard.
Damian [on the Comm Link]: Todd, I broke my last saxophone reed, and I need you to get me a new one.
Red Hood: *reloading his guns while hiding behind barrels as bullets whizz past him* Uh, isn’t this the kind of thing Alfred’s better at?
Damian: I called him. He’s not home. I also tried Father, Grayson, Drake, Brown, Thomas, and the Commissioner, Barbara’s father.
Red Hood: *twisting a criminal’s arm and throwing another across the wall* Wow, and after them, out of all the people in the world, you chose me.
At Robin and Superboy’s ultra-high tech, ultra-pristine, ultra-secret tree safe house…
Red Hood: *bruised, tattered, dripping blood, and on the run from mercenaries*
Jon: *pleading eyes*
Damian: -Tt-
Damian: *rubs his face in exasperation*
Damian: All right, he can stay. But I get to treat him like garbage.
Red Hood: Wow. What’s the catch?
Jay, don’t push it. And, Dami, just because he tripped and bled all over the LEGO Death Star that took you and your best friend eighteen hours to assemble, it doesn’t mean that you should treat your older brother that way.
Jason:
Damian:
Jason: Ha, ha, ha.
Damian: What’s so funny, Todd?
Jason: I was just thinking about the time Timbo got his nose caught in the toaster.
Damian: We’ll watch the tape tonight.
Hey, how about helping your brother get some sleep, boys?
Damian: Pennyworth, Drake’s making faces at me!
Tim: It’s a nervous twitch, and I’m a little sensitive about it, if you don’t mind.
Mornings at the Manor…
Jason: *whistling while turning on the stove and beating eggs in a bowl*
Red Robin: *comes in through the kitchen window, bruised, tattered, and dripping blood*
Red Robin: Jay! I lost Damian! What am I going to do?!
Jason: Uhhhh. Don’t worry. Don’t worry. *looks around the kitchen in panic* Know what I’m going to do? I’m going to make you an omelet.
Red Robin: Just help me look for him!
Jason: Are you sure? I make ‘em with four kinds of cheese.
Damian: I’m not giving up! I don’t care if I have to knock on every door in this two-bit town. I’m going to find Titus!
Jason: *flops on the couch* And I’ll be right here watching TV!
You know, like all good, older brothers do, Dames.
Mornings at the Manor…
Jason: Hey, hands off my pickle, brat!
Damian: I don’t see your name on it, Todd!
Jason: No, but – *grabs the pickle and licks it*
Damian: Oh, yeah? *grabs it back and dunks it in his milk* Checkmate.
Jason: Huh. Always thinking two moves ahead.
~ · ~ · ~ · ~ · ~ · ~
Quit playing with your food, kids.
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