It's something he talks about inside his own head. Is all. Narrating to himself, trying not to let old film reels of memory burn up. Please return my fucking calls. Getting more than a little sad, after so many years.

But.

Bruce accepts the googly-eyed cup, listening to the faint clink of plastic googlies, giving it serious consideration. After a moment he returns it to the shelf. Rejected.

"Too obvious."

Also, it's absurd enough to deserve a customer who appreciates it for its surreal glory. Bruce peruses some more, fully aware that whatever cup he selects will end up in a storage room at the back of the manor's secondary kitchen, at best. If it's especially tasteless, a box sent to Goodwill. So there's care that must go into selecting the right one, striking a balance between annoying and entertaining Alfred. Bruce knows he still has a Tokyo Disney one in the house proper, even, he's just strategic about not showing anyone.

"Lois?"