The sash wringing… the trash thinging… mash flinging… the flash springing, bringing the the crash thinging the…
HASH SLINGING SLASHER!
You may be an open book Spongebob, but I am a bit more complicated than that.
The inner machinations of my mind are an enigma
Killer Croc:Do you smell it? That smell, the kind of smelly smell. A smelly smell that smells…smelly
Two-Face: Isn’t this great Squidward? Just you & me together
for hours and hours and hours! And then the sun’ll come up, and it’ll be
tomorrow, and we’ll still be working! It’ll be just like a sleepover!
Only we’ll be sweaty and covered with grease!
Penguin:Hmm, a five letter word for happiness…money!
So you mean to say they’ve taken what we thought we think and make us
think we thought our thoughts we’ve been thinking our thoughts we think
we thought?…I think.
Catwoman: Because of her mysterious behavior, I have decided to name her
Mystery…Now that I think about it she’s also very graceful and
majestic. Perhaps I should name her Grace or Majesty…or Debbie.
I’ll have you know I stubbed my toe last week while watering my spice garden and I only cried for twenty minutes.
See, no one says “cool” anymore. That’s such an old
person thing. Now we say “coral”, as in “That nose job is so coral.”
The Joker: F is for fire that burns down the whole town, U is for Uranium…bombs! N is for no survivors!
I slipped on an ice cube and got covered in boo-boos!
You know, if I were to die right now in a fiery explosion due to the carelessness of a friend, well, that would be just okay.
Yeah, uhh, we’re with the pet hospital down the street and I understand that you have a dying animal on the premises.
This isn’t me millionth dollar, this is an ordinary dollar that’s been
crumpled up, torn slightly, soaked in the lagoon and kissed with Coral
Blue #2 semi-gloss lipstick!
I was a wimp before Anchor Arms. Now, I’m a jerk and everybody loves me! So order now, wimp!
Give me a story where one of Bruce’s children has a kid (it doesn’t matter who, but Jason would be so sweet as a father) and Bruce is blown away by the fact that he is a grandfather. Where he’s standing there holding this tiny baby in his arms and he’s completely lost for words. He’s never been good with words, but now he can’t even begin to form them.
Because this is something he never expected. Not in a million years did he imagine himself as a grandfather. He had seen his life going down a very specific path when he was young. A very specific, very lonely path. Long term attachments had been outlawed to him by his choice of lifestyle, and children were even more out of the question.
He’d always known what the cape and cowl meant: an end to the Wayne family line. He had no siblings, and no close relatives. No one to continue the historical name, and he’d been ok with it. Or at least he thought he had. So when Dick, then Jason, Cass, Tim, and Damian had come they’d each been a surprise. A happy surprise, a surprise that was to Bruce always fleeting. Especially when he lost them, especially when he got them back.
So no, he hadn’t expected a grandchild. Not when everyone of his own kids had followed his footsteps. They’d all done it in their own unique way, but Bruce still saw what they did as a road with one outcome. That outcome was never settling down, never finding ‘the one’, and never starting their own family.
Yet. Here he stood, holding, not just the next generation, but the third generation of the Wayne name after his parents. Bright and bubbly, in his arms there was life, and with life hope for the future. Not just the future of his family, but the future in general. Because if a man like him could be so lucky to have made it to becoming a grandfather, then the world was better than he’d thought it was.