All Bobs Must Die:

Another night, another weirdo criminal causing trouble in Gotham. Right now Condiment King was trying to hold up the Gotham branch of the First National Bank. His condiment guns had definitely been upgraded since Tim last saw him. Now, he could manage a very acidic mustard, vinegar, ketchup, relish, and nutella.

The last one was the one that posed the most risk, given how many people had nut allergies. Which meant of course that he had to be taken down before he plastered someone with it that was allergic.

Kon was a long way from Smallville. In the past, he would've just jumped in and probably wrecked the street or something, but he'd long since learned not to just barrel into a situation until he knew what was going on.

That meant, just for a moment, as Condiment King tried to fight his way away from the bank, that he got to watch Tim work. Which was impressive, as usual.

Still, right now, he didn't know whether to help or just laugh his butt off. To start with, he settled with watching, just to make sure the condiment thing was really the only ace up this guy's sleeve.

You have got to be kidding me...