Irwin sat at his desk, tapping his pencil against his head, sighing. This was the hard part- everyone at the office knew the supernatural existed. After all, they'd had to clean up after several of Gentleman Ghost's crimes. The trick was getting funding for proper containment for supernatural contaminants since people STILL laughed at the idea of ghosts, or wrote them off as a minor nuisance. He and the rest of the office had spent the last several minutes trying to figure out how he should sneak "check Arkham for demons" into any future cleanups there.

[s][i]Recommend investigation of potential spectral infestation at Arkham Asylum[/i][/s] It's demons and specters summoned by the suffering of the insane, not cockroaches.
[s][i]Suspect potential supernatural activity at Arkham, to be expected from the family that gave the Massachusetts town its name[/i][/s] Not quite sure it's the same Arkhams.
[s][i]Arkham's haunted as hell, call Dr. Fate[/i][/s] Accurate, too informal.
[s][i]Recommend contacting supernatural professionals- Dr. Fate, etc.- to investigate dark forces at work at Arkham Asylum[/i][/s] "Dark Forces" was way too nebulous.

He sighed, dropping his head to his desk, the antennae of the suit twitching towards the TV. He looked up to see the giant transforming robot and stared in shock. He jumped up on his desk, his co-workers sighing. How'd Schwab get the corner office again?

"What? An invading Decepticon?! A news chopper destroyed?! Metropolis in peril?! THIS looks like a job..." Irwin said, pulling off his clip-on tie, "FOR AMBUSH BUG!"

With a twitch of his suit's antennae, a building energy, and a pop, Irwin Schwab stood on top of the Daily Planet globe, watching the robot and trying to figure out just what needed to be done to keep it from hurting people.