Danny: *Gag* It's okay. Almost done. A few more bites. You can do this, Fenton. *chew* *Gag, chock gag*
Damian: Oh, for Pete's sake! Fenton! Stop it! It's just a salad! You do not have to retch every time you have some! Especially in the school cafeteria! It's gross!
Danny startled: Oh sorry, Mr. Wayne, I didn't mean bother you.
Damian: Tsk. Don't call me Mr. Wayne, we are the same age. Now, what seems to be the problem? Why must you make that noise every time you eat a salad?
Danny: I'm sorry, I don't know why I do that, but every time I try to be healthy, I just gag. My mom says it because I'm a picky eater, and I just have to force myself-
Damian: Your mother is a fool. Forcing yourself to eat something that causes such a repulsive reaction means something else is obviously at play and not you being picky. What part of the salad makes you react?
Danny: Oh-sorry- the lettuce?
Damian: Are you allergic?
Damian: You don't think so? This means you had never had a professional check to be sure, does it not?
Damian: I know a free clinic that will test you. If you are not allergic, then it's likely a texture issue or something psychological. Whatever the reason, no more forcing yourself to eat it. Do you understand?
Damian: *Slams hand on table* Do. You. Understand?
Danny: But....the salad is all I can afford off the Academy menu and we aren't allowed to bring outside food.
Damian: No matter. I will purchase your meals from now on.
Danny: What!? I can't accept that! I don't want to take advantage!
Damian: Hmmmm so your sense of justice and pride are a issue? Then do something for me in exchange for the meals.
Damian: The animal shelter need more volunteers. They do not have enough funds to hire someone full time but the animals are the ones suffering for it and I will not stand it. You will accompany me to the shelter everyday of the week to help out in exchange for five meals out of the week. Do we have an accord?
Danny: Yes! Yes, ugh, yes I can do that.
Damian: Good. Now, let's get you some lunch that wont make you sick. Up, pretty boy.