The Diagnosis
Disclaimer: I don't own Batman, (created by Bob Kane and owned by DC comics), or any of the characters therein.
Oh, it was her again. The Doctor with the annoying voice and the permanent happy grin. He couldn't stand her- she had the effect of making him think in oxymorons, she was so depressingly cheerful.
'Morning, Mr. Nygma!'
'Hah.' He kept going with the morning crossword.
'I've completed your initial psycho-analysis, as I'm sure you'll be glad to learn.'
'Oh, yes. I can barely maintain my excitement.' The Riddler put down the paper and decided to actually listen to what she had to say.
'Your test results show you to be highly intelligent-
'Tell me something I don't know.'
'With an obsessive mania for puzzles and questions-'
'Are you sure? Really sure about that?'
'Alongside a raging superiority complex.'
He considered this for a minute. 'It's only complex because you're too stupid to understand it.'
Fin.
A/N: It was in my head, and now it's out of my head. I really have no excuse, except a love of...well. It's not even a pun, really, is it? Oh well. Thank you for reading.