“Fuck this shit,” Jason complained.
“What?” Tim leaned over his shoulder, eyeing the device. He let out a sigh. “Jason, you can't mash the buttons like that; you know they die as fast as flies.”
“Oh, oh, are the buttons not working, Tim?
Thanks for your input, I'll just get in the TARDIS and go back!” Jason grumped at him, throwing down the complicated listening device.
It was more than a walkie-talkie or some sort of sonic ear—Tim himself, with Batman's help,
had designed it out of all sorts of plastic and metal parts to make it pick up all kinds of frequencies, from the aural to the radio and so on.
It was kinda gadgety, looking like something from an animation ghetto film.
Tim sighed. “Jason, you go through too much equipment. You know Bruce is going to make you get a part time job or something--”
“I have a job,” Jason practically growled.
“Yeah, a part time one selling old shit, so, room for another part time one, right?” Tim took the device from Jason's hand as the other glared at him.
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