EDWARD: Ogrebanani said: Riddler, good day to you. Only one question for you at the moment: Why turn your vast intellect toward foiling The Batman when there must certainly be larger minds against which to test your mettle?

Believe it or not, this is a question I have often asked myself. In the long ago, at the beginning of my career, I was the only person in the universe, as far as I was concerned. Why should I not do as I please and fleece that bank of her embarrassment of riches? I was aware of the Bat, in the same way that one is aware of Bruce Wayne. (chuckles) One so potently visible cannot go unnoticed. As I became more prolific in my misdeeds, I made the List, as it were. My face and name joined the ranks of the Rogue's Gallery, and there I have remained. Such visibility, alas, can have its drawbacks: the feeble of foot that is the GCPD cede to the Bat more when you one of his special people. In this way, I lost my villain status and moved into the realm of the supervillains. My crimes became events. I have never minded this - the more attention the better, I believe - but it has rather forced my hand into becoming grandiose. I compete with myself to be better, and it is easy to lose grasp on what the desired outcome once was, when the spectacle is The Thing. I struggle with this, I admit, as much as I struggle with my concept of the Bat. He began as a mere hindrance; the spoiler of perfect schemes. But he persisted in irritating me by solving my puzzles. Whether he cheated or not, I do not care; the end result was my defeat, regardless. Thus, the desire to defeat this mind, this meddlesome mind, became ever more acute.

I'm sure there are greater intellects out there, and I would topple them like tenpins. However... I only truly want to beat one. Just that one. I want him to know his defeat was by my brain, conducted by my hands. For if - when - I best this mind that may
have cheated me in the past, then how transcendent, how absolute, would this prove my mind to be? That I could create the perfect puzzle that cannot be defeated by conventional or nefarious means? To say that this is my goal is a gross understatement - it is my life's work, my noble purpose on this ridiculous planet. More so than these unappreciated recordings, at any rate. (clicks a button, walks away and slumps down, lets out an angry exhale)

(Ikky squawks)

EDWARD: Oh darling, I'm not upset with you. (bitter) It's that the drawl of a Georgian jackass, and the flap of a jackdaw's wings is all that is required to lure those fickle listeners away. (becoming angry) They seek only hollow sentiment, sycophantic lies and mindless consumption at the expense of my precious time with so few signs of any gratitude. Did they believe that I do not know how many people access these files? Everyone listens, but it seemingly falls on deaf ears. Does no one want their mind expanded any more? Is there no credit for genius? What is it, am I not good enough for them? Do I interfere with their refined aesthetic of shitposts, ships, and dank fucking memes? I was almost happy! I was in good spirits! How DARE they do this to me? (angry huff, covers face with hands)

(Ikky squawks)

EDWARD: (muffled voice) Why do I even bother? (scoffs, voice unmuffled, amused) Good question. You know, I must make you a tiny set of glasses, dear, or perhaps a monocle. You're better at this psychology schtick than that old stiff Crane; and much easier on the eye, I might add.

(Ikky squawks)

EDWARD: Fine, you can have your answer. I do these recordings for myself: I appreciate my literary references and witty parlance; despite feeling intellectually offended and personally angry at the silent masses, my own approval is still all I need. If I were fed on the gratitude and kudos of others, I would have starved years ago. You know what? They can lick the boots of Jonathan all they want - sooner or later his true colours will break through that chemical facade and he'll kick them in the face. And as for you - let them covet you, Ikky, but I alone allow them access to you. And as for my audio files, well... (smug) I can stop that particular farce whenever I please. (pause) Huh. The recording light is still on. (voice getting closer) That's what I get for taking off my glasses, I suppose. Oh well - I stand by what I said.