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Robin: Must you call me every time you need something more complex than the Batburger menu read to you in the field?
Red Hood: But you're so good at it.
Spoiler, distracted: You even do the voices.
Robin: There are no voices.
Black Bat: Then you're doing it wrong.
Robin: I would like to see-
Black Bat: Shh. Sneaking.
Robin: Then turn. Off. The input.
Red Robin, exasperated: Come on, Robin. The handwriting is a nightmare.
Nightwing, quickly: And, as your predecessors, we like to encourage your development as a well-rounded Robin.
Robin: Nightwing.
Nightwing: Yeah?
Robin: I am well past half way to beating your record for time spent as Robin. How many of your skills have I not mastered?
Red Robin: The quadruple somersault is still right there for you to learn, Robin.
Nightwing, rallying: That's a goal. I mean... never stop learning, right?
Red Robin: Right. You don't use a net when you do that trick, do you Nightwing?
Red Hood, absently answering Nightwing, clearly not paying much attention either, fortunately for Red Robin: That's what they say.
Robin, absolutely done: Please tell me I'm not the only multilingual Robin in a family of illiterates.
Red Robin: I can read six languages. This just isn't one of them, okay? I don't even know what it is.
Robin: Elamite cuneiform.
Red Robin: How even did you l-
Red Hood, still audibly distracted: I mean, I read three languages?
Red Robin: You do?
Red Hood: Yeah? And I am offended by that shocked tone of voice, Red. I was bilingual before you were born.
Red Robin: Fine, whatever. English, Spanish---what's the third?
Red Hood: French.
Red Robin: Let me guess. You wanted to read old timey French chick lit-
Red Hood: Fucking seriously? For your information, I read Dumas.
Red Robin: And old timey chick lit.
Red Hood: ...The phrase "chick lit" is sexist and offensively reductive for a genre characterized by authors who aren't cis men, writing about human emotion and interaction from the historically ignored perspective of strong independent women.
Red Robin, overlapping: Who don't need no man? Your devotion to chick lit is possibly the weirdest thing about you.
Red Hood: I literally rose from the grave.
Red Robin: I said what I said.
Red Hood: Say it to my face, you fuckin'-
Nightwing, with the instinct of an eldest child who's learned it's easier to change the subject than break up a fight: I can speak eleven languages pretty okay.
Red Robin: Eleven??
Red Hood: Since when?
Nightwing: To be fair, I only read two.
Red Robin: Since when?
Nightwing: Uh, since I never need to?
Robin: Under the current circumstances, I would disagree. What would you do if I was not in the field tonight?
Red Hood: Blow up your phone.
(All pause to take in the existential question of whether Hood means that literally or figuratively. Jason does not clarify.)
Nightwing: The Batcomputer takes amazing Dick-tation in all eleven.
Red Robin: Do you mean...?
Batman, sighing over the comms, having long since given up on curtailing the chatter: He means what he said. He reprogrammed the Batcomputer to accurately transcribe his wordplay when he was ten. In eleven languages.
Red Robin: Please tell me he didn't-
Batman, long long suffering: Yes. There is a Dick-tionary too.
Red Hood: Does that count as civilian names over comms?
Red Robin: Well it does now
Nightwing: Excuse me, dictionaries are a thing?
Robin: I am surrounded by undereducated heathens.
Nightwing: Are we ignoring the entire part where I reprogrammed the Batcomputer's language recognition when I was ten?
Red Hood, overlapping: Hey, I was a street rat, and then I died. I missed a lot of critical developmental phases in my education.
Batman: You were ranked third in your entire year at the Academy. Twice.
Red Hood: And then I died.
Batman: Hood.
Red Hood: Bats.
Batman, a man who can project the impression that he's pinching his nose through the exact shape of his silence: And then you died.
Red Hood: Thank you. Acceptance is the first step. Anyway, the years I missed were super critical.
Red Robin: It's not all about formal education. I dropped out, and I still read more languages than Hood and 'Wing combined.
Red Hood: I heard you almost got kicked out.
Red Robin: That's also true.
Robin: So here I am, translating ancient Elamite for you all.
Red Robin, slightly defensive: I'd have taken Ancient Elamite if the Academy offered it. You're not that special, Robin.
Red Hood, at the same time, fully defensive: I may not read ancient Elamite, but I spend more time reading than the rest of you combined.
Red Robin: And I've run a multinational Fortune 500 company since I was 16.
--explosion in the background and shouts, followed by a succession of smaller explosions--
Red Hood: What's the last book you read for fun? Actually--hold that thought.
--Hood's shitkicking boots pounding on the ground, clearly sprinting away from the fading sounds of chaos--
Red Robin: How to Win Friends and Influence People.
Red Hood, breathing audibly: You've gotta be shitting me.
Red Robin: I am one hundred percent shitting you.
Robin: Pity.
Red Robin: What's that supposed to mean?
Robin: You would benefit from Carnegie's wisdom.
Red Robin: Hey. I have friends. I influence people.
Robin: Name two--who are not on any team with you.
Red Robin: Catwoman-
Robin: Arguably on our team.
Red Robin: Since when?
Robin: Since father-
Batman: Catwoman is on the team.
Red Robin: Arsenal?
Red Hood, faint clangs of a fire escape in the background: Since when are you friends with Arsenal?
Red Robin: For the purposes of this conversation, our mutual appreciation of guerrilla robotics counts as friendship.
Red Hood: Huh.
Red Robin: You can even ask him, if you-
Red Hood: No. No, actually. I'm pretty sure Arsenal counts that as friendship too.
Robin: If you can think of a second friend in under a minute, I will translate your text with a minimum of personal commentary on your deductive skills, your literacy, and your insistence on that dire hair style.
Red Robin, promptly--and peevish: Bernard.
Nightwing: But you said when you broke up that-
Red Robin: Bernard. Now read.
Robin: I will be confirming that assertion.
Red Robin: Okay? Can you un-read it?
Robin: No. But I can make your life a misery.
Red Robin: Fine. Deal. Whatever. What's it say?
Robin: ....This is from Grandfather.
Red Robin: I know.
Nightwing: Ra's writes in cuneiform?
Robin: Occasionally. When the mood strikes him. How long have you been pen-pals, Red Robin?
Red Robin: We are not pen-pals. He likes to harass me via courier.
Robin, reading: Dear pen-pal-
--rustling, sound of punch to soft tissue--
Red Robin: It does not say that! Give. Me. That-
Nightwing: Are we going to talk about the fact that Hood just blew up a toy factory?
Red Hood: Fink!
Nightwing: Well you did!
Red Hood: Everybody went home at nine and the security guards are taking a nap at Motel Lucky 7 down the street.
Batman, suspicious: Everybody?
Red Hood: Everybody who matters. Anyway, my shit's done for the night. Want an extra body on patrol?
Nightwing, despairing mutter: I can't take you anywhere.
Red Hood: Technically, you can. You might not have the time you're expecting, but you can absolutely take me anywhere. I have impeccable table manners. Pennyone said.
Nightwing: This is patrol, not a date, Hood.
Red Hood: I am crushed.
Batman: I would like to revisit Hood's standards for who would not matter.
Red Hood: You don't get to come on any of my dates.
Batman: Why would I want to go on-
Red Hood: And Pennyone has the shotgun thing handled.
Batman, sighing: Pennyone's shotgun is for use in highly specific circumstances.
Red Hood: New boyfriends.
Nightwing: New girlfriends.
Red Robin: New boyfriends or new girlfriends.
Robin: New friends who happen to be metas. And where did he obtain kryptonite-laced bullets, father?
Batman: ...There are contingencies for every member of the Justice League-
Robin: Superboy is eleven!
Nightwing: In all fairness, Pennyone pulled the shotgun on Kon, not Jon.
Red Hood: Ooh. Yeah. That is fair.
Red Robin: For the last time, it was a phase!
Red Hood: The mini Lex Luthor journey of self-discovery?
Nightwing: Red has a type.
Red Hood: Just wait. Bernard's going to turn out to be a supervillain.
Red Robin: I only wanted one piece of mail translated so I could tell Ra's to fuck off with context. I did not ask to be bullied.
Red Hood: I mean, a love letter from Ra's is a pretty good reason for sibling bullying.
Red Robin: It is not a love letter.
Nightwing: We're just looking out for you.
Red Robin: I don't need looking out for!
Red Hood: Considering some of your past choices....
Robin: On second thought, perhaps I will translate Red Robin's letter.
Red Robin: Oh no. No. You just want to translate it to snoop now.
Red Hood: You do realize your romance with Ra's is fascinating to everyone who isn't you?
Red Robin: For the last time! It is not a roman-
Robin: There is a poem right in the middle of the letter.
Red Robin: Ra's al Ghul can stuff his poetry up his-. Look, there's a distinct line between romance and ending up a supervillain's babydaddy.
--Chatter in the background, laughter.--
Red Hood: Arsenal confirms there was no romance involved in his supervillan babydaddy adventure. Just lots of-
Red Robin: Stop.
Red Hood: -bad decisions.
--Sirens in background.--
Red Hood: Shit. Uh. Anyway, lemme know if I gotta kick his ass.
--more running and jumping rooftops--
Nightwing: Did he just offer to kick Ra's al Ghul's ass?
Robin: ...His tenure with the League was full of surprises.
Nightwing: I'm surprised he's still alive.
Red Robin: Technically...
--hard landing, body rolling on gravel, more running--
Red Hood: Too soon!
Robin, ignoring Hood and Red Robin: As are we all.
Red Robin: Actually, why is he still alive after kicking Ra's's ass?
Robin: He was a husk at the time. Grandfather didn't consider it sporting.
Red Robin: Denial, huh?
Robin: Very much so.
--Red Hood grunts. Distinctive sound of a body hitting a wall. The body is probably Red Hood's--
--Gunshot.--
Red Hood: Fuuuuck. Yeah, no. That's it. I'm done for the night.
Batman: Red Hood, report. Casualties?
Red Hood: Uh, maybe a pigeon? Anyway, Batburger's on me, fellow quitters.
Batman: Hood, no. Nightwing, no.
Nightwing: You're not the boss of me.
Red Robin, whispering: Oh my god. I can see the face B is making through the cowl.
Red Hood, gasp of delight: I am buying you your body weight in Night Wings if you caught that on camera.
Oracle: Maybe he did, maybe he didn't. I, on the other hand, have it from three separate angles.
Red Hood: Batburger offer's open.
Oracle: Red's body weight in Night Wings sounds pretty good.
Red Hood: I can't tell if you're kidding or incredibly optimistic.
Oracle: Let's find out.
Red Hood: We'll bring you a Quakemaster Shake, B.
Batman, sighing, because this may as well happen: Chocolate, please.