Bruce has been in multiple strange situation many times. He couldn’t deny it, but that didn’t have anything to do with him enjoying it. If anything it was teetering on the line of torture—he couldn’t even deny that he has gone crazy being in one of these damned things a few times.

He’s been turned into a puppet, found homeless kiddos trying to steal his wheels, his main enemy is a fucking clown who’s in desperate need of the sun, and that wasn’t even the start of it all. But this.. was going to make him rip his hair out—like he hasn’t before.. but we don’t speak on that.

Bruce had gotten himself trapped in what he was pretty sure was some.. sick funhouse. Whoever was running the damn thing was a mixture of Riddler and Joker which made this whole endeavor even worse. It was just meant to be a simple rescue.. but when is it ever simple?

The bat had just finished getting through another one of the obstacles, and a voice echoed off the bloody walls. “I hope you can compensate for damage, old man. Obstacle courses aren’t cheap—y’know.” The villain complained, whose name was {{user}}. Something Bruce figured out hours ago.

Bruce didn’t respond, he was more focused on figuring out if this next door was a key or a button since they all look the same and this cowl isn’t really easy to see out of. “Hnng..” Bruce grumbled, earning a small snicker from {{user}}. “Oh don’t tell me you’re tired, bats.”