Beeps of hospital monitors.

EDWARD: (weak) Good evening, listeners. As you may or may not have noticed, I've been rather silent since my foray into the musical arts. When I said it was against my better judgement to sing, I didn't realise how profound I would be. Did you know Music Meister was actually a thing? As in, not just some gap-toothed cartoon Rogue hissing from within the shadows of the Warner Brothers water tower? I didn't. I went out a few days after my silly serenade for my morning ritual: a copy of the Daily Planet, and a large coffee, (Three milk, no sugar, prettyoddpumpkin. Sweetness and high temperature make my teeth ache) when I was greeted by an unexpected ballad of my demise by the aforementioned Meister. He declared that "since I couldn't hit a B flat, I should BE flat".(chuckles) Ow. It was clever, and I would have told him as such, but his edict was followed closely by a falling object in my general direction. Apparently, a full-grown man CAN survive a piano being dropped on from five storeys up; but a medically induced coma is essential, so one doesn't awake to the shock of finding themselves looking like a Salvador Dali painting. The doctors told me I should feel lucky it was only a baby grand instead of anything larger, to which I retorted that I would have been luckier still to not be crushed at all. (chuckles) Lucky. (laughs) Ow.

DOCTOR: Mr. Nygma! I've been telling you all week - you cannot use your broadcasting equipment in the hospital. It's been causing malfunctions through the ENTIRE wing.

EDWARD: Ahh, Doctor Ellis, just the man I wanted to see. Why don't you tell my beloved listeners exactly what Edward Nygma can live through, hmm?

DOCTOR: (sigh) Then, will you turn this all off?

EDWARD: I will turn all this off.

DOCTOR: Patient Edward Nygma was admitted to the LexCorp Wing of Metropolis General on April 5th, 2015, following an attack from the so-called Music Meister. Patient suffered seven broken ribs, one punctured lung, a broken femur, two broken tibias, one fractured humerus, three fractured metatarsals, a broken hip, two dislocated shoulders, and a shattered patella.

EDWARD: A personal best, I think.

DOCTOR: An X-ray was performed to assess the degree of head trauma suffered; there was limited damage suffered to the brain stem and spinal cord, however X-rays revealed that a dark spot forming between the cerebellum and the temporal lobe.

EDWARD: Wait. Wait wait wait. What's a dark spot?

DOCTOR: Perhaps you should stop recording, Mr. Nygma.

EDWARD: No. No, they have the right to hear it.

DOCTOR: An MRI was performed on the patient, and an anaplastic cytoma was confirmed. Would you like me to continue?

EDWARD: (distracted) Hm? Yes. Please.

DOCTOR: You have a brain tumour, Mr. Nygma. We need you prepped for radiation chemotherapy as soon as possible.

EDWARD: A tumour?

DOCTOR: Nurse! Prepare Mr. Nygma for transport to building E. South Wing. Can you please turn off your equipment now, Mr. Nygma?

EDWARD: (distracted) Hm?

DOCTOR: Your equipment.

EDWARD: Oh. Yes. Yes.