The Batplane roared through the night sky, speeding towards Gotham City. Within its cockpit and rear compartment, five heroines (and two tiny men) were cramped close together like colorfully-clad sardines in a can. Not the most luxurious conditions but their time was too short for the grounded helicopter to be winched to the larger aircraft. The situation was dire and all secretly feared they would be too late to save the Batman. Thankfully, the Dark Knight’s distress signal had flared to life the second they entered the plane. If nothing else, they now had a destination.

Batgirl had gratefully swapped places with Lady Blackhawk, allowing an experienced pilot to take the controls. “Yee-hah!” the uniformed blonde had said. “I get to fly me a real, live Batplane! Hot diggety dog, look at all them buttons!”

Oracle wheeled her chair to the co-pilot position, hoping she remembered enough of her training to inform the other woman just what those myriad buttons, lights, and levers were for. The Batplane was not exactly a standard aircraft. Behind her, Batgirl, Black Canary, and the Huntress sat shoulder to shoulder, wincing as every bank and weave of the plane squeezed them all tighter against one another.

The miniature Robin and Nightwing were seated together on Batgirl’s lap, relieved to be in the company of someone of less monstrous proportions. Had they so desired, they could have crossed from one giant set of legs to the next, traversing their allies’ laps like a gently rolling landscape. Robin in particular had blushed more than once when he caught a glimpse of the creamy fishnet-covered plateau of the Canary’s thighs. Though their minds were on other business, the journey was tempting.

“I’m still not used to this,” he told Nightwing. He found it refreshing to be able to speak to someone without shouting his lungs out. “Everyone’s so damn huge!”

“Tell me about it,” Nightwing replied. “Babs almost swallowed me.”

“What? Get out!”

“Yeah. And Huntress sat on me. Long story.”

Robin shivered. “I keep getting these images of what Ivy might be doing to Batman. Biting off his head, ripping his little arms out, who knows what? Dick…do you think we’ll be in time?”

“I’m…not sure, Tim,” Nightwing admitted. “But if I know Batman, he’s probably already gone all ‘Jack the Giant-Killer’ on her. You know how Bruce’s mind works. He probably had a contingency plan for this situation the minute the Atom first joined the Justice League.”

* * * *

In fact, Batman had several contingencies worked out in the event of miniaturization by white dwarf radiation or other scientific/metaphysical means. But on paper, such a plan was one thing and in practice, it was a whole different animal. Instead of outwitting and escaping his giant captors right away, he’d been subjected to numerous humiliations and now hid himself among the grime and dust bunnies below Harley and Ivy’s couch.

Batman cursed himself for not finding a way out of this and winced in pain from what were surely several broken ribs and fractured bones. His deductive mind reasoned that the size and mass-altering effects of the Atom’s invention had increased his durability by a small margin. But the wounds he sustained within Poison Ivy’s constrictive décolletage were significant nonetheless.

A massive female hand reached below the sofa and began grasping blindly for him like a huge spider. Batman removed several mini-bombs from his belt and flung them at the offending digits. Poison Ivy quickly pulled her hand back from the tiny blasts. Though the explosions had no greater effect than a cigarette burn, they had still hurt. What’s more, they had made her angrier than ever.

“I’ll pop you like a grape, little man!” she snarled at him, sucking on her singed fingers. “Harley, help me move this couch!”

The clown-girl stood at her partner’s side hesitantly. “Aww, don’t hurt him, Red! Can’t he be our pet? I was gonna get a cage and an exercise wheel and some food pellets and everything! And just think of all the…fun we could have with him,” she said, smiling wickedly. “Like Richard Gere and his hamsters!”

Ivy answered in a sing-songy voice. “I’ll let you use the mallet…”

“Ooo, goody!” Harley squealed, jumping up and down and abruptly changing her mind. “Just like Wac-a-Mole!”

As the women bent over the sofa to lift it up, Hugo Strange admired the sight of their rumps protruding into the air. Ivy looked back over her shoulder in annoyance.

“You know, you could make yourself useful, Professor.”

“A scientist merely observes,” Strange replied. “To act upon an experiment would inevitably alter its outcome.”

“I’ll alter your outcome, you beady-eyed creep,” Ivy muttered.

With the sofa now relocated, Harley and Ivy peered down at the dirty floor but found no sign of their prey. At once, a series of pre-planted mini-bombs exploded like a line of firecrackers, causing the women to stumble backwards in surprise.

“Oh, that’s it,” said Ivy. “I’m gonna EAT that son of a bitch! Why did I let you talk me into keeping him alive this long?”

“Hey, you were having fun playing with him too, Red,” Harley insisted. “It’s like Geek-Boy over there said. You got all dom on the petrie-urkel oppressor.”

“Patriarchal.”

“That too.”

Batman, meanwhile, had scurried to another corner of the room (he hoped it never got out that the fearsome Dark Knight Detective had in fact “scurried” at one time). His keen eyes searched the hideout for somewhere he could conceal himself until help arrived. The vast jungle of potted plants was right out. This was Poison Ivy’s lair. Even an innocuous house plant was likely to be a carnivorous flesh-hungry mutant. Similarly, he hurried past one of Harley’s discarded bras, the curve of which now towered over him like a geodesic dome. Such a hiding spot would only court disaster. He finally slipped unnoticed into a crack in the wall.

The tiny Batman slunk into the shadows, clutching his injured side and acclimating to his new surroundings. In the darkness behind him came a low hiss and a bone-chilling shriek. He spun around to find himself in the path of a (relatively speaking) ten foot rat.

“It’s just one of those nights…” the miniature vigilante groaned, preparing for battle.

Meanwhile, unnoticed by the villainesses, a large, black object had come to a silent stop above the building, hovering ominously in the open air. The Batplane’s hatch opened and its passengers piled out onto the rooftop, relieved to be able to stretch once more.

“Gee, an abandoned building,” the Huntress whispered, inspecting their location. “That hasn’t been done before…”

“Well, where do you want super-villains to stay?” asked Black Canary in a similarly hushed tone. “The Hilton?”

“All right, ladies,” said Oracle from the open hatch of the plane. “Be on your guard. There’s no telling what those two nuts are up to or how small Batman is at this point. I’ll stay here to look after our Toy Wonders.” Batgirl stepped forward and dropped the shrunken Robin and Nightwing into Oracle’s upturned hand. The tiny figures tumbled over each other and rolled down the slope of her fingers.

As the other women sought an entrance to the villains’ lair, Oracle looked down at her little friends, leaning her huge face unnervingly close. A curtain of scarlet tresses surrounded them on both sides and her warm breath swept over them like a summer breeze. Robin and Nightwing could only focus on the movement of those massive, pillowy lips directly above their heads.

“How you holding up, boys?”

“Just dandy, Babs,” Nightwing called, projecting his voice once again. “I was just thinking about what Zinda said earlier about a bird in the hand.”

“Me too.” Oracle smiled. “Looks like I have a couple of them now.”

“Indeed,” the little man said. “But don’t get any ideas about the second part. You know, how it’s worth ‘two in the bush?’” Nightwing and the giant woman shared a chuckle but at these words, Robin was once again blushing like a school boy.

“Aww,” Oracle cooed, tickling the tiny teen with a fingertip. “I think we’re making Tim uncomfortable.”

Robin pushed the enormous finger aside in frustration. “How can you guys joke at a time like this? Batman could be nothing but a greasy stain or an undigested lump in Ivy’s stomach by now!”

Above him, Oracle’s expression immediately resumed a serious tenor. “I know, Robin,” she sighed. “We’re trying not to think about it. It’s out of our hands at the moment. Let’s just hope Canary and the girls come through.”

This aforementioned group had made its way to the skylight at the center of the roof and was preparing to stage an invasion as they spoke. “Since we’re about to rescue him,” said Black Canary, “how about an homage to the big guy? Dramatic skylight entrance in a shower of glass.”

“Careful where you land,” Huntress added. “We’re trying to save Batman, not squish him.”

“Woohoo, subterfuge,” Lady Blackhawk whispered. “So who’s first?”

Batgirl pushed past the older women. “Watch and learn,” she said.

The costumed teen leaped onto the center of the skylight, shattering the glass with her boots and shooting down into the building like a stone. Extending her arms, she spread her dark, gray cape to both sides with a near-silent flutter, casting the shadow of huge wings upon the criminals below. The cape billowed elegantly, slowing her descent like a parachute and allowing her to drift dramatically into the startled villains’ midst. She landed gracefully and immediately assumed a battle-ready position.

“Show-off,” Black Canary smirked as she lowered a rope down for herself and the others.

“Playtime’s over, girls,” Canary called to the villains. She soon noticed the presence of Hugo Strange. “Why, Prof. Strange! Just the demented misfit of science we were looking for!”

“Nice to be popular,” Strange answered with a sinister grin.

“Not so big without your shrink ray, are you, Prof?” Huntress sneered.

Behind Strange, Batgirl was already making mincemeat of the decidedly outclassed Harley Quinn.

“Ahhhh! Not in the face, not in the face!”

“All right, where’s Batman?” Canary continued.

Poison Ivy made a slight flourish with her hand, awakening the various genetically-altered “darlings” in her garden. Canary, Huntress, and Lady B were soon assaulted by slithering vines, flying spores, and toothy Venus flytraps from every side.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Ivy scoffed.

“Uh, Red? Ow!” Harley called between beatings. “Wouldn’t we—ow!—like to know as well?”

“Shut up, Harley,” her partner snapped.

Seeing her allies in danger, Batgirl sent the clown to the floor with a well-placed kick to the stomach and bolted towards Ivy, hoping to break the woman’s hold on the deadly plants. She stopped in mid-stride as a familiar beam struck her body, causing it to rapidly dwindle. Within seconds, Batgirl had been reduced to three inches in height.

“Always carry a spare,” Strange said, producing a second shrink ray from his coat.

“Aw, crap,” said Canary. “Scatter!”

Strange swung his arm in a strafing maneuver, pointing the lens of the device and projecting beams left and right. Tables, chairs, plants and other assorted objects began to lose mass and assume an assortment of sizes. As the scientist laughed madly, the room became littered with miniatures and began to take on the appearance of an oddly scaled funhouse. A wayward beam struck the Huntress and reduced her to the proportions of a cricket. Another shrank Lady Blackhawk, turning the buxom blonde into a three foot dwarf. Black Canary attempted to evade but soon found herself a convincing double for her own action figures, little more than six inches high.

“Mmm, tiny ladies,” Poison Ivy purred. “Kinky.”

The voluptuous villainess stepped confidently towards the shrunken heroines, a sadistic gleam in her eyes. Lady Blackhawk instantly attacked the giantess’s shins but, lacking the combat training of her now smaller associates, proved ineffective. Ivy placed a hand on the small woman’s forehead and pushed her aside forcefully. The midget pilot landed in a heap.

“Watch it, hobbit,” said Ivy. “Or I’ll give you a spanking.”

The giant redhead loomed above the smaller members of the group, darkening their world in shadow. The ground rumbled and shook with each approaching step. This time, Ivy intended not to make the same mistake as with Batman. Lifting her foot high, she attempted to stomp the tiny women out of existence. The heroines darted away in panic, scurrying from Ivy’s feet like mice.

At an inch and a half tall, Huntress’s tiny legs could only carry her so far. Her blood ran cold as the huge shadow enveloped her again and Ivy’s vast boot hovered menacingly above. She closed her eyes and fingered the cross at her neck, whispering a prayer to God. Tears streaked Helena Bertinelli’s face and she hoped her sins would be forgiven.

As the massive green juggernaut descended, Batgirl charged forward and tackled the smaller Huntress, pushing them both out of the way. Ivy’s foot came down behind them with a deafening crash. She soon pivoted and made ready for another attempt.

“Hey, bubble-butt!” Canary shouted up at her, striking Ivy’s leg in a flying kick. “Why don’t you pick on someone who’s at least ankle-height!”

Ivy spun around in fury and dropped into a crouch, sweeping the doll-sized woman into her fist. She stood upright and squeezed the Canary tightly.

“Scream for me, blondie,” Poison Ivy snarled, tightening her fingers around the little woman’s waist.

Black Canary winced in pain and choked out her answer. “If…you…insist.”

Opening her tiny mouth, the Canary released another powerful sonic blast, striking her captor square in the forehead. Ivy’s head snapped back and her balance abandoned her. The curvaceous killer stumbled and fell backwards, cracking her head on the floor. Nearby, Batgirl and Huntress were thrown off their feet by the tremors of Ivy’s impact. A low groan escaped Ivy’s lips and the Canary pried the tree-trunk fingers apart, slipping out of her hand.

“Eat it, bitch!” the miniature blonde cried triumphantly.

From a few feet away, Huntress called out to her teammate. “Madre del Dio! Don’t tell her to eat anything until we’re sure she’s unconscious!”

Seeing that Ivy had failed, Prof. Strange stepped forward to try and collect some new “specimens.” Before he could reach for the tiny women however, the dwarfish Lady Blackhawk jumped onto his back and wrapped her arms about his neck.

“Don’t even try it, poindexter!” she yelled. “Gimme that shrink ray!”

“Miserable urchin!” Strange cried. “Release me at once!”

The two struggled back and forth for a time until Lady B managed to pry the shrinking device from his fingers. As Strange tried to recover it, the diminutive woman tossed it like a girl playing keep-away.

“Hey, Canary! Catch!”

Black Canary jumped to meet the falling gadget in mid-air but found it to be almost half her own size. The ray collided with her torso and sent her tumbling onto her back.

“Oof!”

Huntress and Batgirl ran to her side, helping their friend back to her feet. While Lady B continued to wrestle with Hugo Strange above, the tiny women hurried away. “Thank goodness you broke its fall, Dinah,” the Huntress said.

“Ugh…that’s not all I broke,” Canary replied. “Now how do you change the settings on this thing to grow us all back?”

Huntress, not even knee-high to the now-standing Canary, studied the bizarre device her friend held. “Can’t you, I don’t know, reverse the polarity or something?”

“Reverse the polarity?” Canary balked. “What is this, a Saturday morning cartoon?”

“What about this?” Batgirl said. She tapped a button on the controls and the device hummed to life. From where she lay sprawled nearby, the injured Harley Quinn opened one eye in curiosity.

“Nice work, kid,” Canary said. “But how do we know what that’ll do?”

“Test it on something first,” Huntress suggested. “Like that plant over there.”

Black Canary pointed the lens towards one of the miniaturized plants and fired. Before the beam could reach it however, Harley rolled into its path.

“Oooo….tingly,” she giggled. A few tense seconds followed and the women stared at her in horror. Within moments, Harley began to grow.

“Run!” Canary shouted as the women retreated from Harley’s rapidly expanding form. Strange and Lady B ceased their struggle and peered up at the soaring stature of the lady clown in awe.

“Oh dear…” the professor murmured. Both he and the pilot looked at each other and bolted for the door.

As Harley’s body reached the ceiling and began to fill the entire room, the shrunken heroines ran for cover, seeking refuge in a hole in the wall. The Barbie-sized Black Canary was the last to follow, crawling on all fours and nearly wedging her hips in the narrow opening. She soon squeezed through and joined the others in gawking at what they saw. A half-inch Batman, his costume tattered and blood spattering his face, sat astride a giant rat with a “bat-rope” threaded through its mouth like a pair of reins.

“Uhhh….hiya, Bats,” Canary said.

“Status update,” the Dark Knight barked with urgency.

The sound of a cracking ceiling, falling debris, and a booming giggle caused them all to turn. Huntress peeked out the hole, sheepishly. “Well, Harley Quinn seems to be about fifty feet tall and, um…you’re riding a rat, apparently.”

Batman sighed. “Definitely one of those nights…”