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It began, as these things often did, with a bad idea that Tim definitely should have known better than to carry out. It was three in the morning, Tim was running on precisely one and a half hours of sleep, a dangerous amount of espresso, and a lingering grudge from Jason’s previous prank, getting duct-taped to a rolling office chair and spun down the entire Batcave corridor at full speed like a test subject in a NASA experiment gone wrong.
Tim’s brain was already high on adrenaline and caffeine when he found the Red Hood’s helmet sitting on Jason’s workbench, shiny and abandoned. And in that moment, the spark of inspiration lit up his tired mind.
Wouldn’t it be hilarious if Jason sounded like Darth Vader?
He could already picture it: Jason, standing at the breakfast table, ordering his eggs like he was negotiating peace with the galaxy. And the best part? It would be so simple. A quick rewrite of the voice modulator’s firmware, a few choice voice lines downloaded from the Star Wars soundboard, and a healthy disregard for any long-term consequences. Sure, he could get punched for it. Maybe even killed. But wasn’t that the thrill of pranking Jason Todd? Besides, he could always blame it on his lack of sleep. It was practically an excuse.
So, after a few quick adjustments, Tim put the helmet back on Jason’s shelf and slunk away, giggling to himself like an evil genius. He expected chaos. He expected yelling. Maybe a punch to the head. What he didn’t expect was this.
The next morning, Jason stomped into the Batcave, helmet securely perched on his head, and Tim watched from behind his cup of coffee, barely able to suppress the giggles bubbling up. “Master Jason,” Alfred began without missing a beat, setting down a plate of pancakes in front of him. “I thought we agreed no firearms at the dinner table.” The helmet’s voice modulator kicked into full effect, deep and gravelly. “Breakfast… I desire… breakfast.” Dick’s spoon froze halfway to his mouth. Even Damian, who had been glaring at his grapefruit with all the intensity of a little assassin-in-training, paused. Tim’s heart skipped a beat. Here it comes. Jason sat up straighter, adjusting the helmet dramatically before replying, “I am altering the deal. Pray I do not alter it any further.”
Dick, still holding his spoon, asked incredulously, “Jay, are you—are you doing Vader?” Jason, utterly unfazed, leaned back in his chair. “I am your father.” Dick threw his napkin, nearly smacking Tim in the face. “Jay, I’m older than you!” Tim, who had been trying to maintain some modicum of composure, snorted into his coffee. “Oh no. I’ve created a monster.”
To Tim’s horror—and secret amusement—Jason loved it. He loved it. So much so that he started wearing the helmet everywhere. Breakfast, patrol, even in the middle of chess games. Nothing was sacred. The whole family was subjected to this new version of Jason Todd, who suddenly thought himself the embodiment of a Sith Lord. One night, Bruce walked into the Batcave, just as Jason turned to him with an imperious motion and said, “Bruce. We meet again at last.” Bruce stopped mid-step, eyes narrowing as he took in Jason’s helmet. “Is your helmet broken?” “No, father,” Jason intoned in the deep modulated voice. “I have simply embraced my destiny.” Bruce, ever the picture of control, turned to Tim. “Fix this.” Tim, fully aware that Jason was beyond help, replied, “I think I made it worse.”
It wasn’t long before everyone in the Batfamily had been dragged into Jason’s new hobby. Tim tried to avoid it, but whenever Jason used the voice modulator to give dramatic orders during patrol—“I find your lack of skill disturbing.”—it became impossible not to snicker. And when he used it at breakfast to announce, “I find your lack of waffles... unacceptable,” it was too much for Dick, who almost choked on his cereal. But no one, not even Tim, could quite stop themselves from getting swept up in the ridiculousness. Dick started carrying around a plastic lightsaber for ambiance whenever Jason put the helmet on. “For the full effect,” Dick explained, grinning from ear to ear. Cass, of course, embraced it like she did everything: with a slight, mysterious smile, and an absurdly large bag of Wookiee Cookies she baked for the occasion (which, for some reason, tasted suspiciously like protein powder). She also started really getting into the Imperial March whenever Jason entered the room.
Tim had created an unholy monster. The worst part? Jason was loving every minute of it. He had taken to making dramatic statements during every single meal. “I find your lack of seasoning… unacceptable.” Even when he was supposed to be in training, the helmet would come on, and Jason would declare things like, “The Force is strong with me, but my punches are stronger.” He was unbearable.
Then came the real fun: Damian. Damian was, to put it delicately, not a fan of any of this. His eyes narrowed every time Jason opened his mouth, all while the others were cracking up. The worst part? Damian had no idea what was going on. “Why are you all so obsessed with this one?” he asked one evening, throwing a pointed look at Jason, who was making dramatic Vader quotes from the safety of his helmet. “He is always quoting—quoting—what is he quoting?” Tim couldn’t help but snicker. “Star Wars, D. Star Wars.” Damian scowled. “What is this… Star Wars? Is it some sort of joke? These idiots are watching… movies?” Tim’s grin grew wider. “Pretty much, yeah.” Damian folded his arms. “I would rather die than waste time watching these… inane distractions. I’ve never even heard of this Star Wars.”
At that moment, Jason lifted his helmet and announced with full theatricality, “I find your lack of knowledge disturbing.” Damian’s eyes flashed with pure rage. “What is that supposed to mean?” “Dude,” Dick whispered dramatically, “you have to see it. You just have to.” Tim quickly began plotting the most chaotic way to get Damian to understand. A Star Wars marathon. It had to be done.
An hour later, the Batcave’s main monitor flickered on, and the opening crawl of Star Wars: A New Hope rolled across the screen. Damian, visibly annoyed, crossed his arms and slouched into the couch. “Explain to me why I have to watch this,” he grumbled. Jason, wearing his helmet, slapped a hand over his chest as if he was deeply moved. “It is time for you to learn the ways of the Force, little demon,” he said, his voice deepening to a near-comical degree. “Are we sure about this?” Tim asked, still a little nervous. “Yes,” Dick said solemnly, clearly not backing down. “He must understand. We must make him see the truth.”
And then, as the first appearance of Darth Vader flashed on screen, Jason went full throttle. “Yo, yo, yo! Wassup, playahs? It’s your man Big V here to slay some rebel scum—” “Oh my god, please, shut up,” Tim groaned, almost losing it. “I am your father, Damian,” Jason continued, his voice booming. “Together, we will rule the Batcave!” Damian, completely unamused, leaned toward Tim, his face a mix of annoyance and confusion. “Why is he doing this? What is happening?” Dick, snickering into his popcorn, leaned over. “Just wait for the rest of it.”
Jason, now fully in character, kept quoting every single line he could remember, mixing them with absurd, self-made additions: “You underestimate the power of the Dark Side, my dude!” Damian looked ready to explode. “What is he saying? This is stupid.” Jason grinned, throwing his arms wide. “I am the Senate, bruh.” Tim sighed, his head in his hands. “What have I done?”
As the final movie credits rolled, Damian glared at them all. “I have lost so many hours of my life. Hours,” he muttered, still trying to process what had just happened. Jason, still wearing the helmet, raised an arm as if he’d just conquered a planet. “You’re welcome, little one.” Dick was rolling on the floor in laughter, and even Cass was wiping away tears. Tim slouched deeper into the couch. “I think I broke him.” And then, just when it seemed like it might be over, Jason leaned toward Damian and said in his deepest voice, “Join me. Together, we’ll take on Gotham.” Damian’s response was swift and certain. “I’m never watching Star Wars again.”