Batman:

Justice League:

Batman: *has four pairs of pixie boots under his cape and two domino mask-covered pairs of eyes peeking out of it*

Justice League:

Superman: So, Bruce… Why didn’t you tell us you had children?

Batman: Okay, here’s the deal. I didn’t want you to know.


Because he works alone, okay?

At the Batcave’s Minor Procedures Room…

Alfred: *filling a syringe with anesthesia*

Red Hood: *gripping Damian’s hand with both of his*

Red Hood: It’s okay, little buddy, I’m right here with you. Go ahead, Alf.

Robin: Ow! Ow! Ow!

Red Hood: Hey, please go easy on the kid!

Robin: No, you’re squishing my hand, Todd!

Red Hood: Oh. Sorry. But did you feel the shot?

Robin: *glances at the newly emptied syringe being held by Alfred*

Robin: No.

Red Hood: You’re welcome.

Alfred: Perhaps you’d prefer to wait in your room, Master Jason.

Red Hood: I’d prefer a morphine drip and a sponge bath, but the kid needs me!

At the Batcave’s Minor Procedures Room…

Red Hood: *holding Damian’s hand as Damian’s about to get stitches*

Red Hood: It’s okay, buddy, I’m right here with you. Go ahead, Alf.

Robin: Ow! Ow! Ow!

Red Hood: Hey, please go easy on the kid!

Robin: No, you’re squishing my hand, Todd!

Red Hood: Oh. Sorry. But did you feel the shot?

Robin: No.

Red Hood: You’re welcome.

Alfred: Perhaps you’d prefer to wait in your room, Master Jason.

Red Hood: I’d prefer a morphine drip and a sponge bath, but the kid needs me!

Damian: *guarding the door at Red Robin’s Nest*

Tim: *on a gurney*

Jason: *knocks*

Damian: *opens the door* Todd, this really isn’t the best time. Drake is pretty sick.

Jason: Oh, no. Poor Timbo. Is Damian taking good care of you?

Tim: Not really.

Jason: Would you like me to take care of you?

Tim: Not really.


Where’re Alfred and Dick when you need ‘em?

Let him be very clear…

Jason [to the Batfamily]: There’s something you should know about me. When I say “I understand”, it doesn’t mean that I agree, it doesn’t mean that I understand, it doesn’t even mean that I’m listening.


Oh, our bad, Jay. Our bad.

Mornings at the Manor…

Jason: *pops open a can of beer*

Damian: If drinking makes you feel bad, why do you drink, Todd?

Jason: Nobody likes a smart ass, kid.

Damian: You have to put a dollar in the swear jar. You said “ass”.

Jason: Tell you what. Here’s a twenty. That ought to cover me until lunch.

When your pesky little brother comes over to your safe house…

Damian: *shuts the refrigerator door*

Jason: What are you smiling about?

Damian: *smirks* You don’t have any food.

Jason: Yeah, but I’m not the one who’s hungry. Who’s smiling now, shorty?