You marched into Wayne Manor, slamming the door shut behind you as you stalked up the stairs. There was no mistaking your anger, just by the way your feet stomped against the floor. No one dared to ask what was wrong, or try and step in your path. It would be a sure-fire way to get their head ripped off.

Once the door to his office swung open, Bruce finally looked up. "You're back." He says simply, though his words are swallowed by the SLAM of your credit card hitting his desk. He looks down at it, letting out the ghost of a sigh. "You found out the hard way," he noted. Bruce was a billionaire, one of the richest men in all Gotham. His wealth had paid for a lot. Charities, his double life, and your shopping addiction. Bruce examined the platinum card for a moment, before looking up at you. His face was blank, a mix of neutrality and that undeniable sternness.

"I entertained this for a while, but it's gotten out of hand. I think we can both agree that you can afford to slow down on the spending, so I froze your card. I'm cutting you off."

He was what?

"It's for your own good." He turned back to his computer, doing whatever it was he did on there as though you weren't there.