Day 44: Arts and Crafts Room, Second Shift
Astor hadn't talked much after introducing himself, which hadn't bothered Terry. With all the crap their little hospital of horrors piled on the patients, he couldn't blame a guy for not wanting to open up to some stranger. Plus, not talking meant he could get a decent meal in, and then check out the bulletin for the latest in Landel's news and gossip. Turned out to be a good thing he did. He'd have missed a lot otherwise: how many people had apparently gotten slagged last night, Spider-boy's unsurprising guilt trip, a note for a too cheery someone named Harley, and another one signed by a lightening bolt that looked a lot like one he'd seen in Wayne's Justice League files. It was pretty hard to know exactly where to start--especially since so far, Terry hadn't seen any sign of the old man in all that mess. Unless that one guy had meant him by the "you-know-who" that made someone else shake in their boots. Inspiring that kind of reaction wasn't exactly a stretch for Bruce.
Terry would've been perfectly content to stay there and watch the developing news, despite the lack of vid screens making the process almost painfully slow. But his dear sweet nurse had other plans for him apparently. Ones that involved crayons and construction paper.
"Oh come on. You can't be serious."
Needless to say, Terry was less than impressed by the offerings. His nurse didn't exactly care about his opinion though, instead firmly asserting her belief that first grade arts and crafts was the key to mental stability. It made Terry eager to get home all over again, just so he could tell the officials at Gotham's mental wards how'd they'd been doing it wrong for all these years. Apparently Batman could retire in peace, just as soon as a bunch of gangsters got their paper mache on.
And they thought he was the insane one. Obviously because he hadn't made enough popsicle houses in his childhood.
Sitting down at least got the woman to stop her preaching, for what that was worth. Of course, now Terry was left with half a glue stick, cheap paper, and scissors that probably couldn't cut air reliably. Terry couldn't say he was pleased. Oh, but they had glitter too! Well, didn't that just make everything perfect? He could make his own Bat signal that would shine with all the colors of the rainbow.
"This is just slagging great."
[Free as a bird bat!]
Terry would've been perfectly content to stay there and watch the developing news, despite the lack of vid screens making the process almost painfully slow. But his dear sweet nurse had other plans for him apparently. Ones that involved crayons and construction paper.
"Oh come on. You can't be serious."
Needless to say, Terry was less than impressed by the offerings. His nurse didn't exactly care about his opinion though, instead firmly asserting her belief that first grade arts and crafts was the key to mental stability. It made Terry eager to get home all over again, just so he could tell the officials at Gotham's mental wards how'd they'd been doing it wrong for all these years. Apparently Batman could retire in peace, just as soon as a bunch of gangsters got their paper mache on.
And they thought he was the insane one. Obviously because he hadn't made enough popsicle houses in his childhood.
Sitting down at least got the woman to stop her preaching, for what that was worth. Of course, now Terry was left with half a glue stick, cheap paper, and scissors that probably couldn't cut air reliably. Terry couldn't say he was pleased. Oh, but they had glitter too! Well, didn't that just make everything perfect? He could make his own Bat signal that would shine with all the colors of the rainbow.
"This is just slagging great."
[Free as a bird bat!]