Robin... Batman is being killed. You need him to help him with the giant cats. Don't throw their friend a cup cake. He's just going to give a monologue about how tasty the choclaty icing is. And when he's finally finished with that, you'll be waiting for jungle predators to shit out your friend with Catman laughing until delicious moist crumbs are coming out his nose.
Cat science: when you want your girlfriend to make you cupcakes, you don't fill the oven with cats, and when you want someone to call off their cats, you don't fill their mouth with cupcakes. Man, if I was Batman I'd kick your ass when we got back to the cave. Wait. Now that I think about it, if I was Batman, I guess the thing I'd do to Robin is gay sex. Sorry.
Did these idiots set their watches wrong? They're both talking about how it's night time. "OH-OH!" It's like noon, geniuses. And look at Catman. Glub. Just look at him.
Sweet sister, I've seen some bad outfits, but this tablecloth cape and matching hot pants on a banana body suit even stunk up the seventies. Man, I knew a guy in my neighborhood just wore a codpiece he made out of a watermelon, and he looked better than this sucka. I once had to eat a piece of his pants on a bet.
Indeed, this Catman truly was on the prowl. Only if one defines "prowl" as "dressed as a child predator signal flare and talking to oneself." Doom's dictionary-like mind assures you such a definition is incorrect. Doom also senses a certain swelling of his supreme bladder. It appears the great Doom has to use his unstoppable bathroom. With immediacy, Doom must locate a can opener to release his immeasurable penis.