alfred is such a troll

Bruce: *walks into Batcave and sees Jason with a guitar* 

Jason: Hey B I wrote you a song! *sings to the tune of Piano Man by Billy Joel*

It’s 12 o'clock in Gotham City 
The Joker is busy killing everyone
There’s an old man sitting next to me
Makin’ love to his Catwoman cuz he’s nasty 

He says, “Son, you gotta stop shooting bad guys”
And I’m like “Bruce, don’t tell me what to do”
Cuz I died and he cried but I came back and stuff
When I wore green Robin panties

(Batkids join in)
La la la, di da da
La la, di da da da dum

Sing us a song, you’re the Batman
Beat up some thugs tonight
Cuz you’re boring and brooding and it’s getting annoying
And you’re the one and only Dark Knight

Now Roy from the Outlaws is my BFF
I hang out with him and Kori
And he’s quick with a joke or to shoot an arrow in your foot
And together we like pissing off Batman
He says, “Jaybird you’re the most awesome guy ever”
As we kicked an alien’s ass
And I’m like “I know I’m the coolest
“Learned it all from the All Caste”

Oh, la la la, di da da
La la, di da da da dum

Now Dick was Batman while you were dead
He never had time for Barbara cuz he sucks at relationships
And Tim’s dead inside cuz everyone he likes died
And he probably hasn’t slept in five years

Oh Damian is a murderous freaking demon spawn
Who is probably gonna kill someone the second he’s left alone 
Also Steph keeps stealing all the food from my fridge
But I don’t mind cuz I stole it from the manor anyway

Sing us a song you’re the Batman
You have a cool British butler 
Also you don’t know when to stop adopting orphans
And you probably need an intervention by now

By the way Cass stole my jacket yesterday
And you didn’t even care when I told you
So I went to all of your Rogues and gave them your number
So suck it old man, you totally deserved it  
And you’ve had seven sidekicks so far
And at least six of them have died at some point
Now I’m starting to think maybe that’s a bad sign
But oh well it’s too late to deal with that now 

Oh, la la la, di da da
La la, di da da da dum

Sing us a song you’re the Batman
And you’ve got a pet cow for some reason even though I’ve asked you several times for a dog and you kept telling me we couldn’t have animals in the Batcave but I guess that’s just a big fat lie so fuck you Bruce  
Well we’re all in the mood for some crimefighting
And by the way you’re really old 

Jason: *guitar solo and ends song* What’d ya think old man? 

Bruce: … 

Bruce: *tired sigh* Where is the sweet embrace of death when you need it 

My feelings on Gotham 3x20
Life is such unutterable hell, solely because it is sometimes beautiful. If we could only be miserable all the time, if there could be no such things as love or beauty or faith or hope, if I could be absolutely certain that my love would never be returned: how much more simple life would be. One could plod through the Siberian salt mines of existence without being bothered about happiness.
—  T.H. White, quoted from Alfred Hitchcock Presents: Stories That Scared Even Me    
Two Strangers Busking

A Human AU RusAme oneshot | Read it on AO3 / FF.net

Ivan Braginsky, a Russian immigrant, was practically homeless ever since he got robbed when he moved in America. He lost everything important, his luggage, his cellphone, his passport, documents, all of it; it frustrated him, and got him depressed for a while. But luckily, he still had Tanya, his tenor saxophone, with him. He was a saxophone major graduate from Gnessin State Musical College, and was about to pursue a doctor’s degree in Jazz Studies in Manhattan School of Music, but decided to take a vacation first, and he regretted that he reserved a hotel room good just for a week.

He was regularly busking in the subway of New York, collecting money enough to eat. Despite being a known musician in Moscow, he never witnessed someone who would stay for a while to listen to his playing, noting that the station was almost empty. It made him doubt his musicality, contemplated about his life choices. As he continued to ponder with his thoughts, the sound he produced was velvety, mellow, and deep. It was actually invoking, and he didn’t even know how profound he was. The phrasing and its dynamics were soothingly resonant, as if he was singing. Its irregular intervals along with its rhythmic patterns were virtuosic, and that made a few people turn their heads to him, each gave a penny. After a few minutes of smooth jazz improvisations, he packed up his instrument, and decided to ride the train. He thought that he might draw attention more in another area in the city; he needed to be optimistic, and he didn’t want to give up.

“Don’t worry, Tanya. You’ll be appreciated more.” He talked to his brass instrument, and of course it didn’t reply.

From a distance, he could hear a sonorous saxophone. ‘Do they allow this inside a train?’ It was vibrant, abrasive, and energizing. ‘It’s an alto sax, huh?’ It was charming how he played its percussive overtones. He peeked, and he saw a blond wearing sunglasses, booming his bebop tunes while dancing like a madman. He was surrounded by fellow passengers who would take videos of him and were howling in awe. His music surely made people dance, as one of the passengers joined him by dancing. When the train stopped in the station, he noticed how no one was getting of the train. For some reason, Ivan felt jealous, envious by how the blond got the attention he wanted.

You think you’re the only one who could own this train?’ He took Tanya out of her case, and he tried to match the blond’s melody by adding his own counterpoint.

From the other side, the audience looked where the other sound came from, and howled more as a Russian man came closer, blasting his cadenzas. Alfred, a notorious prankster, was busking in the train just for the sake of trolling, and was surprised that someone decided to join his parade. He was amazed at the ashen blond; he noticed that he rarely produced clashes of notes, and noted his phrasing. While he knew he was the melody out of them, he adjusted to be the accompaniment for the other player by producing a 7/8 rhythmic drone. The ashen blond easily attuned to his pattern as he played his melody, introduced with a glissando, and embellished with chromatic grace notes. After a span of measures, he adjusted to a cut time signature, and the ashen blond looked at him, then smirked. The ashen blond was about to play quartals, but melodious triplets and eventually sextuplets took his spot. Alfred felt ecstatic; he didn’t even know he could do that. As they shifted to another time signature, he continued playing as the melody, while the ashen blond was the accompaniment. For an accompaniment though, his sound was suave, and sexy; he was just playing the blue scale in 4/4 for crying out loud.

Ivan was impressed. The way he modulated the key in an arppegiated pivot chord, which was a flatted major subdominant seventh, he didn’t know would sound good made his heart beat faster. He was getting excited, and the idea of beating his ‘rival’ slowly faded in his mind. Sure, they had different styles, the upbeat and expressive versus the refined and articulate, but what they were producing was harmonious. He didn’t mind the people surrounding them anymore. He knew this was a duet, and it sure was a beautiful one.

When they were now in Penn Station, both of them decided to resolve in a major seventh, with a little bit of overtones from Alfred. The audience clapped, and Alfred bowed a gracious bow complete with arm gesture, while Ivan bowed with half of his body. After their bows, they caught themselves staring at each other at the same time. They both smiled, Alfred lowering his sunglasses with a smoulder, and Ivan bowed a little, and packed Tanya. Alfred packed his alto sax, and caught Ivan looking at him. He came closer, and shook hands with the talented stranger. They both bid their goodbyes, walking the opposite sides of the train.

Maybe I’m not homeless after all.’

Keep reading

Okay but what if

The Nation’s are like really famous and stuff and Alfred really likes to make vines so he makes one while the nations are all eating out by the Boston Harbor after a meeting and Arthur brought tea and Alfred just sips at it and makes this disgusted face and dumps it into the harbor. Cue the nations in the background going ooooo and getting ready to watch a fight. Alfred says,”In my country, we toss what we don’t like into the harbor.” He looks all superior until Arthur gets this revelation face on, saying,”"I didn’t know that.” And then he picks Alfred up and tOSSES HIM INTO THE BOSTON HARBOR