"Hello, your pizzas are here." Schiller called using the deliveryman's phone. "You'll probably need to send someone down to get them, since there's quite a lot. I may not be able to bring everything up in one trip... All right, I'll wait for you at the entrance."
The moment he hung up, a flash of golden light streaked past him. A youth in a red uniform appeared before him and said, "Oh, thanks for your hard work, sir. Where are our pizzas?"
"Good Lord! Are you The Flash? Are you?!" Schiller's tone changed completely, making him sound like an enthusiastic young fan with a hint of a Southern accent.
"Yes. But are you my fan? I have fans in Gotham?" The Flash looked surprised. "I thought you all liked Batman."
"Don't joke around. Why would I like that rich guy? He's completely out of touch. Only a young hero like you could be my idol! Oh, right, I saw you used an amazing eighteen-dollar coupon when ordering the pizzas. That was yours, wasn't it?"
"Oh my God, you noticed?!" The Flash practically jumped with excitement. "I redeemed that after doing missions for three days! I even placed two wrong orders for it. Everyone said I was wasting time, but I saved a full eighteen dollars!"
Schiller stepped forward, put an arm around his shoulders, and patted his back. "Don't mind those people. They're rich folks who don't know the value of money. I only make eight dollars on a delivery like this. Eighteen dollars is a lot!"
The Flash was clearly delighted. "Great, someone finally understands me. Actually, the coupon isn't that hard to get. You just have to check in for three straight days and complete a few small tasks. I'll show you..."
The Flash pulled out his phone