I don't see why this is necessary. They already stalk me. Why should I make it easier for them? You owe me at least one favour-you tell them.
What? Fine. But one day you will wake up to a tall figure looming over you. And before you get excited, that tall figure will be carrying a large knife.
You fanfiction writers will be the death of me one day, I swear. Well, some of you have been already. What is that? Are you all death fetishists? Actually, don't answer that. I don't want to know.
I do!
Shut up, Scarecrow. I am the narrator. You can't be trusted.
I have a request. A small one. You should be happy to honour it, since you all apparently love me so much. God knows why, I go out of my way to be unloveable.
It's the face. Or the eyes. Or the backstory.
Shut up, Scarecrow!
PLEASE. Stop writing about me. Stop flinging me into nonsensical situations, or pairing me up with that damned clown, or…anything, really. It's bad enough that I'm at the mercy of my own creators, but to deal with you lot…it's too much!
That felt good.
Please think it over. I beg of you. There, you see what you've done? You've got me to beg. Are you happy now?
Hopefully we won't have this discussion again. Good bye.
Jasmine Scarthing-He shouldn't have invaded my office. I was busy.
Just-Me-and-My-Brain-I get the feeling you'd fling yourself at Batman if I asked. That might be interesting...