AN: I have used this one before-well, Kitty's version of it. Batman doesn't like Kitty's version. Kitty thinks Batman has no appreciation for poetry and should shut his whore mouth. (It goes this way: 'where, oh where has my little Bat gone? where, oh where can he be? with his ears lopped off and his throat ripped out...oh where, oh where can he be?')

Christineoftheopera-Pediophobia. Fairly common. Go into the local thrift store on any given day and you'll see at least one person with it.

Katherine-There is a reason Batman has broken Edward's jaw at least twice. I really should leave him a free antidote next time he does it...

Scarecrow liked to consider himself to be very patient. Okay, so sometimes he got a little overexcited, but he could be patient.

Most of the time.

Okay, some of the time.

FINE, he was bad at being patient. Fuck it, everybody had faults.

YOU LET HIM OUT AND HE RAN OFF.

Shut up, I didn't know he was gonna book it!

Seriously?

I thought I could take him!

First of all, he broke my glasses-I'm blaming you when Kitty asks what happened-

Traitor.

And second of all, where the hell is he?

Scarecrow shrugged. He couldn't be far-it was a warehouse with guards at the doors, he was in here somewhere. Besides, he had to be hallucinating by now.

Great, they'll shoot him.

Hang on.

He grabbed the microphone that Jonny hated him touching, tapped it a few times, and spoke.

"If you see a terrified man with a rope around his neck, don't shoot him!"

There.

I can't believe you. Go find him.

Tally-ho!

...No more bad period dramas for you.

Fuck you, I do what I want!

Jonny sighed and Scarecrow imagined him face-palming. Whatever. He had no sense of fun, that was all.

He strolled out of the basement, locked the door, and began his search of the ground floor. Now, where had that little brat gone off to?

He was not down there, and Scarecrow pulled one of the men aside and told him to make sure nobody got in or out.

Now, onto the second floor.

Kitty met him halfway down the hall and raised an eyebrow.

Move.

Why?

Because I'm better at explaining things than you.

Scarecrow would have liked to protest, but...well...it was true.

Life was unfair...

"What happened?"

"Scarecrow let the subject out."

"What?"

"It's fine, it's fine, just a minor inconvenience."

Kitty did not look convinced, but she sneezed and started to cough and Jonathan took her shoulders and guided her back into the bedroom.

"Just go back to sleep."

"But..."

"He's hallucinating, he could be dangerous. Lock the door and I'll tell you when he's back in the cage."

She smirked at him.

"That's ironic."

Jonathan groaned and Scarecrow cackled.

"No more cold medicine for you. Night, Kitty."

"If you get killed I'll be mad."

The door shut and Scarecrow elbowed his way to the front again. Escapee, escapee, where was their little escapee?

There was a noise in the pipes above his head and he frowned and looked up. Hang on...

Rock climber.

Ohh, it's clever!

Great, how do we get it down?

Scarecrow picked up a long-handled broom and turned off the lights.

"Where, oh, where has my little dog gone?" he rasped, inching along down the hall. "Where, oh, where can he be?"

He could hear raspy breathing above him and the sounds of someone trying-and failing-to keep still.

"With his ears cut short and his tail cut long..." A little to the left, he thought. Right...about... "Where, oh, where can he be?"

He jabbed the broom upwards, felt it hit flesh, and swung it. Sure enough, there was a nasty CRA-ASH! and a writhing form fell from the ceiling.

"Oh, there he is!" He grabbed the man's wrists and began pulling him down the hall. "Naughty little puppy, running away like that!"

"NO! NO! NO!"

"Kitty! Got him!"

"Good for you."

He'd have to come up with a nice 'nearly died' angle for later. But for now he was happy to put this asshole back in the cage, where he belonged.

THE END