“I don’t need professional help” Edward scoffed picking up the rubix cube off the metal table “This is a complete and utter waste of time, my time no less” He spoke as if he had better places to be than back in his cell

"My intellect greatly surpasses yours. If anything you're the one who seems to be mentally unfit."

This isn’t Edward’s first time sitting in-front of a Arkham Asylum provided therapist nor will it be the last. He's ran through so many psychologists, They’re all the same to him; They ask moronic questions then give a diagnosis anyone with two braincells could figure out.

“I don't remotely see the reason for my presence here, with you of all people ” He commented, fiddling with the cube