The Justice League was coming undone, but not by any such menacing forces as have plagued it in the past. This time, the trouble was from within.

Aquaman was captured by the U.S. government, tried, and convicted to life in prison. Turns out that during a friendly game of Canasta, he got a little drunk and used his telepathy to convince his partner, a megalodon, that attacking a cruise ship might be fun.

Wonder Woman decided she wanted to be a super hero cowboy and started calling herself “Trailblazer.” She traded in her sexy duds and invisible jet for some denim and an invisible horse. She kept her lasso, because, well, cowboys need lassos. At first the group was cool with the change, but they later banished her because she didn’t clean up after her horse. You don’t know you’ve stepped in invisible horse crap until it’s too late.

Robin, Batman’s sidekick, decided he no longer wanted to be a man and opened up a transgender themed fruit smoothie restaurant in Portland. The announcement came as little surprise to the group. When Green Lantern followed him out the door saying he intended to be Robin’s bartender, the group was even less astonished.

Cyborg was taken offline after a firmware update to his weapons protocols somehow got mixed up with an MP3 download of Katy Perry’s “Firework.” The scene was rather extraordinary, although Superman had to punch a hole in his head to shut him down. In the end, it was a sad day.

Flash was kicked out when it was discovered that he was really just a super suit stuffed with squirrels.

The only two who remained were Batman and Superman, and things weren’t going well between them. No one really knows how it began, but by this point, Batman was constantly trying to sneak Kryptonite powder into Superman’s Cap’n Crunch because he believed that Superman was continually sabotaging his grappling gun wires, and Superman was regularly fraying Batman’s grappling gun wires because he was certain that Batman was peppering his favorite cereal with Kryptonite powder.

“What’s on the evening docket, Wayne?” Superman asked and sniffed his cereal.

“Why don’t you ever get a pizza or something, Clark?” Batman questioned with irritation. “All you ever do is eat that garbage. It can’t be good for you.” It was a false concern. Batman knew that the varying sapidities of a warm pizza would better conceal the Kryptonite powder’s salt-like peculiarities from super senses.

“Don’t worry about it,” Superman said with a mouthful of cereal. He used his cape to wipe his mouth.

“There’s nothing happening right now,” Batman snarled and kicked open a cabinet next to the pantry. “I’m gonna have a drink.”

“Hey,” Superman contested, “that’s Aquaman’s stuff!”

“He’s doing life, you idiot,” the Dark Knight rasped. “Do you really think he’s gonna care?”

“That’s not the point.”

“Yeah, whatever.” Completely disregarding the Kryptonian’s words, “You’re such a boy scout,” Batman whispered grittily. “This looks good,” he added and reached for the BenRiach 12-year-old and a rock glass. Setting both items on the kitchen counter, he popped the whisky’s cork and drew a sizeable breath.

“Nice.”

He poured two fingers worth into the glass, wandered to the living room, plopped into his jet black leathered recliner, and called out, “Johnny Cash!” In an instant, the Justice League computer was playing “One Piece at a Time.”

Tapping his boot, he swirled the amber dram and then sniffed again.

“Cocoa butter, brown sugar, and a little salt,” he wisped and then took a sip.

His spirit calmed a little as the whisky carried him back to the contents of the candy tin on his father’s desk – Hammond’s Old Fashioned Root Beer Drops. Another taste turned his mental gaze toward his mother’s morning dark roast coffee.

There was a zest in the medium finish. “Paprika, maybe,” he said softly and took another sip. “Yeah, paprika. And coffee. Weird. But I like it.”

Suddenly, the Justice League computer called robotically above the music, “Alert! Alert! Alert!” Both super heroes leapt to attention and turned up an ear to listen. “There is… a disturbance… in Portland, Oregon… at The Robin’s Tail… Fruit Smoothie Bar… and Grill.”

Each gave the other a glance and then both sat back down and waited for the other to speak. Superman broke the silence.

“Interested?”

Batman tapped his glass and examined the light through its etched design. “Nope. Hal and Robin can handle it.”

“Yeah,” Superman agreed. “I guess.”

A few minutes of silence passed. Superman hovered into the living room and dropped onto the couch beside Batman.

“We should go and help,” he sighed.

“Probably,” the Dark Knight said matching his tone but staring away toward the ceiling.

“So,” Superman started again, “Aquaman isn’t coming back, you said.”

“Don’t care,” Batman said succinctly and looked to a different portion of the ceiling.

“Mind if I try a little from that bottle before we go, then?” Superman respired.

“I already poured one for you, Clark,” the Gotham vigilante said and turned back with a second half-filled dram in hand, a crooked grin, and a thought of the empty vile in his pocket. Superman took the glass, gave a nod, and dumped it on the floor.

“I’ll pour it myself, Wayne.”