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"Why we have to do this again?" Jason grunted, heaving yet another crate out of his way. At the moment he, Dick and Tim was in the Cave's storage - because Bruce apparently decided to ignore the perfectly good attic he had at the mansion, looking for something. Jason had tuned Tim out on the second phrase.
"Because I have one hundred dollars rolling on whether or not I can get Damian in Dick's old Robin get-up. I'm sure I can convince him to use it, but first we have to find it . Now move it. " Tim hissed, roughly kicking one crate aside. Sleep-deprived Tim was nice until the 46-hour-mark. Then he became pissy and bitchy and Jason hated dealing with him.
"Oh god, is that what we are looking for?" Jason had to stop to reign in his laughter. “Oh, Dickie, remember when you used to wear that all the time? Those were good times.”
"Shut it, Jaybird. You used it too, remember?" Dick grunted at him from the other side of the Cave, where he was very obviously not actually helping.
"Well, yes, but you invented it. And used it for, what, six years? I only used for one." He snickered, more invested in the conversation then looking for the offending attire.
"I was nine . What kind of fashion sense a kid of nine has?"
"Damian is ten and his fashion sense is better than yours, at 28."
Then they started bickering and Tim physically kicked them out. Jason later found that Tim had, once, used them too.
Then he printed out a collage of the four Robins, in scaly pants, and hanged it on the Cave.