BATMAN WANTS WAFFLES FOR BREAKFAST SO HE CAN CELEBRATE THE FOURTH OF JULY (BECAUSE EVERYONE KNOWS IT'S AN AMERICAN TRADITION TO EAT WAFFLES ON THE FOURTH OF JULY, AND BY EVERYONE, WE MEAN NO ONE), BUT, ALAS, THE WAFFLER IS BROKEN, BECAUSE BATMAN ACCIDENTALLY BROKE IT WHEN HE TRIED TO MAKE WAFFLES YESTERDAY SO HE COULD EAT WAFFLES ON FREE COMIC BOOK DAY (WHICH REALLY IS JULY THE THIRD, SILVER METEOR SCORED TWO FREE COMIC BOOKS FROM HER LOCAL HASTINGS) BUT ENDED UP BURNING THE BATTER AND PUNCHING THE WAFFLER IN FRUSTRATION, AND A REPLACEMENT WAFFLER WAS NOT FOUND (BRUCE WAYNE EXPLAINS) BECAUSE FOR THE WANT OF A NAIL, THE SHOE WAS LOST, AND FOR THE WANT OF THE SHOE, THE HORSE WAS LOST, AND FOR THE WANT OF A HORSE, THE MESSENGER WAS LOST, AND FOR THE WANT OF THE MESSENGER, THE MESSAGE WAS LOST, AND FOR THE WANT OF THE MESSAGE, ALFRED WAS NOT INFORMED THAT THE WAFFLER WAS BROKEN AND DID NOT PURCHASE A NEW ONE, AND FOR THE WANT OF THE WAFFLER THE WAFFLES WERE LOST

And to make a long story short, that's why we're not having waffles this morning, finished Bruce Wayne proudly.

One question, said Dick Grayson, as he wearily lifted his head from the spot on the table where he had previously banging it, What the hell are you smoking, Bruce?

No no, I'm high off of oxygen, Dick, answered Bruce Wayne cheerfully, syruping his Cinnamon Toast Crunch, which was substituting for the wanting waffles. Why do you ask?

Tim Drake, in his caps-lock induced stupor, forgot to keep his head upright and it was sent headfirst into his bowl of Raisin Bran, splattering milk and deformed grapes everywhere.