A goon named Jerry, a mountain of muscle and scars, stood at the entrance, blocking Robin from entering. He refused the hero, who had a good amount of kills on his belt, entry.
Jerry: Batman, you may go in. No kid though.
Batman (not in the mood to have his son around many of his worse criminals again): Oh, thank you.
Robin: Hey, why can't I go in?
Jerry: No weenies allowed.
Robin (Damian) eyes widened and he twitched with anger. Batman sighed knowing where this was going.
Robin: I- I- I am not a weenie!
Jerry: Tiny, reminds me of my own child. Weenie. Go to the car your father drives.
Robin: No! Let me in!
Batman: Robin, go to the car.
Robin: I'm not a weenie! Tell him I'm not a weenie!
Batman: Will you go to the car?
Robin: Maybe... Tell him I'm not a weenie!
Batman: He's not a weenie. I can never escape references to that sponge show. This is the weirdest part of my night.
Jerry: How you think I feel? In Russia I never have to deal with child sidekick, especially one that reminds me of my precious son at home. He still a weenie though.
Robin jumped up and down shouting that he's not a weenie about five times. His voice got more high pitched with each shout. Batman sighed again then calmly picked up his son and walked off with him to the car.
Robin (pouting): I'm not a weenie! I’ve taken lives! I- I've got a kill streak. If I weren’t a hero now, I’d stab that lunkhead until he bled out!
Batman: Yes, yes, I hear you, your anger is... Valid. I do think it's best if you just stay here and keep watch of the car.
Robin: ... I'm not a weenie?
Batman: You're my son, of course you're not ... That.
Robin: Alright, I’ll keep guard outside. If anything happens, I’ll rush in to fight alongside you, father.
Batman: Works for me. Want a hug?
Robin: Yes, you give good hugs.
Batman and Robin hugged while Jerry watched from a few feet away. The tall body builder turned hired goon sniffled, wiping his eye.
Jerry: I have to call little one and wish him good night.
