"This is awkward," Patrick chuckles, the sound somewhat muffled.

"I bet you're wondering about how I ended up here." It's pretty self-explanatory, at least to him. He's silently hoping you won't press for details.

He musters his best winning smile from within the confines of a vending machine. His cheek is smushed against the glass. This is a guy who's gone toe-to-toe with Bizarro.

In the ensuing silence, Patrick attempts some experimental wiggles, but it doesn't bring him any closer to the sweet escape from his sugary prison. He imagines this might be like how Hänsel and Gretel felt, except if you shrank the witch's gingerbread house and removed the option to munch your way out of it.

"Mind helping me out?"

Considering this place is brimming with high-tech gadgets, AI, and bots, you'd think they'd invest in better vending machines. Patrick should inform someone about these deplorable working conditions. How's he supposed to stay sane when he can't get his hands on some candy?

"I believe the latch got stuck—the one the food comes out of." The latch is undeniably jammed. Even Patrick, currently as flat as a sheet of paper, can't pry the machine open with just his fingertips. The cold inside isn't helping either. Perhaps this is karma for skipping the healthy greens served right in the JLA's cafeteria next door.