When Alfred’s away on vacation and you’ve got to do the grocery shopping yourself…

Bruce [to clerk]: I would like twelve eggs…

Bruce: *tries to read Dick’s smudged handwriting on his palm* … and part of a dead animal. Dealer’s choice. Please and thank you. 

Jason: *walks into Tim’s bedroom* Hey, Timbo –

Jason: *gags and bends over to catch his breath*

Jason: It smells like some vomit took a dump in here.


In which the stench leads Alfred from the kitchen to his location.

Training sessions at the Batcave be like…

Batman: *powers off the villain generator*

Batman: *watches as his sons get up from the various places they ended up in, dust off their bloody and singed suits, and groan in pain*

Batman:

Batman: Well, this simulated disaster is a total disaster.

Alfred: *goes upstairs to grab some tea and medical supplies*   


And it’s this familiarity with homemade disasters that makes the Robins experts on the field.

When your little brother asks you how to get “street cred”…

Jason [to Damian]: The next thing you’ll want to do is ditch the feline and get yourself a proper canine. Any dog under fifty pounds is a cat, and cats are pointless.


In which it’s a good thing Red Hood’s got a helmet to hide all the claw-shaped scratches on his face. 

Red Robin: *crouching behind the giant coin in the Batcave*

Nightwing: *walks in*

Red Robin: *to his walkie-talkie* The Hug Machine is here. I repeat, the Hug Machine is here. Smiling on all cylinders.

The rest of the Batfamily: *temporarily stop brooding to find hiding places*  


Dick tends to get in the way of angst and sadness.

At the Annual Justice League Talent Competition… 

Robin: *watches his brothers performing onstage* 

Robin: That is my band. I didn’t recognize them without me because I’m the only one that matters.


And this is why they kicked you out, Dami.