Someone—probably Harley—had the brilliant idea of throwing a Legion of Doom pool party.

Which was how Lex Luthor found himself standing at the edge of an Olympic-sized pool shaped like a skull, wearing $10,000 sunglasses and the single most uncomfortable expression money could buy.

Black Manta refused to take off his helmet, arguing that it was technically swimwear. Cheetah had already clawed up three pool floats. Riddler was setting up some kind of trivia-based death trap by the diving board, and Captain Cold was threatening to turn the shallow end into an ice rink.

Meanwhile, Harley Quinn and Sinestro were locked in an epic chicken fight atop inflatable flamingos, shrieking like banshees.

Lex pinched the bridge of his nose. “This was supposed to be a networking event.”

Grodd, sipping a piña colada the size of a small car, shrugged. “It’s team bonding.”

If they didn’t kill each other by sunset, it would be a miracle.