The League had been abuzz with talk of a dating app since the incident with Bruce's phone blowing up during a meeting. And if Clark and Bruce could have Tinder accounts, why not Diana? She was single. She was willing. And most importantly, she was a woman on a mission.

She was very selective when it came to swiping right. And by "very selective," she meant: did they have a dog? A cat? A spider? A snake? A cow? A dragon bat? An incomprehensible, friend-shaped Elder God? They did? She was swiping right. Dates were great, yes, but petting every last animal she could get her hands on? Now that was true bliss. What a great little app this was!

Diana had no problem landing dates, probably because a very large segment of the population had a thing for wondrous women who could crush a man where he stood. She hadn't truly clicked with any of her matches, not really, but she had been able to pet thirty-five different animals and counting (and some of her dates had been able to pet Diana's biceps, but that was neither here nor there). It would've been more, but she only had so many hours of free time, after all.

Tonight, she happened to be available. A great opportunity to locate an animal for petting purposes. And maybe connect with the owner, if everything went well. Pets first, though. "What a beautiful creature you have in your profile photo," she messaged her latest match. "Is it friendly?"