GRACE: (over intercom) Edward Nygma’s here for his three-thirty.

(click) CRANE: Thank you, Grace. Send him in.

(door opens)

EDWARD: Oh, Christ. (closes the door) It had to be you.

CRANE: Have a seat, Edward.

EDWARD: (laughs) So YOU got the Arkham office, hmm? I’m amazed we can have this little powwow, what with your lips pressed so firmly against Jeremiah’s posterior.

CRANE: Charming as ever, I see. (crow squawk)

EDWARD: As I live and breathe, little Ikky! Surely, she can’t be the same Ikky.

CRANE: She is.

EDWARD: But that would make her… uhh…

CRANE: Thirty-three.

EDWARD: Good lord. Hello Ikky! (Ikky squawks) (EDWARD chuckles) I’m taking her out of the cage.

CRANE: Please don’t.

EDWARD: I took her out of the cage. (Ikky squawks, CRANE sighs) Who’s a pretty Ikky?
(Ikky squawks) Yes, you are.

CRANE: Please – sit down.

EDWARD: Oh, fine. Come on, Ikky. (sits) I still don’t get it. Why would you name a girl
Ichabod?

CRANE: Why not? Your father named you Edward.

EDWARD: Ikky, did you hear that? Jonny made a funny! (Ikky squawks) I know, I’m shocked, too. Maybe it’s another one of Karlo’s tricks.

CRANE: Have you been adju-

EDWARD: (interrupting) Where is Karlo, anyway?

CRANE: (annoyed) I’m sorry?

EDWARD: KARLO. Where’d they ship him off to?

CRANE: He’s down in Level 5.

EDWARD: Wrath… fitting. And how is our proverbial Phaistos?

CRANE: You answered your own question.

EDWARD: I thought as much. Well, I suppose you should stop dilly-dallying and get to the point of this pointless exercise. Just let me know when I should start crying and blaming my father for my life.

CRANE: Interesting you chose your father over your mother.

EDWARD: Oh please, I was just being facetious.

CRANE: Well did you get along with your father?

EDWARD: You know I didn’t; this is hardly news. Jack ‘Call Me Jackie’ Nashton was not
someone you got along with. Especially not if you were an intellectual.

CRANE: Simple, was he?

EDWARD: Well, I was leaning towards ‘abusive dickhead’, but sure, lets go with ‘simple’.

CRANE: Did he ever hit you or your mother?

EDWARD: Obviously, Jonathan. (Ikky squawks) I didn’t wind up who I am today from getting too many hugs.

CRANE: Interesting.

EDWARD: Oh, is it? That’s funny, coming from you.

CRANE: I beg your pardon?

EDWARD: Beg away, Jonathan Ulysses Crane. When it comes to asshole fathers, your old
man makes mine look like a saint.

CRANE: I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about.

EDWARD: Oh, of course not. I’m sure every son of the South was named after a Union
General.

CRANE: I think we’re done for today.

EDWARD: Shame. Things were just getting interesting.

CRANE: (presses a button) Grace – send Bolton to collect Mr. Nygma.

EDWARD: Dirty pool, Jonathan. Dirty pool. (Ikky squawks) Alright, Ikky – back to bed.
(fluttering of wings) I can’t believe you still use a reel-to-reel.

CRANE: It does the job.

EDWARD: Yeah - so does this.

CRANE: Well what’s this?

EDWARD: It looks like a hearing aid, but it’s a recording device. It hears what you hear.
NanoTech. I built it out of some LexCorp tech a couple years back; you tell it to record, it
records. You tell it to upload – well, I imagine you get it. And, if something happens to you, it will auto-upload your last recording. Think of it as your own personal black box. I think you’ll find the quality exceeds that of a TC-630.

CRANE: (presses a button) Grace – send Brown instead of Bolton.

EDWARD: Much obliged, Jonathan.