“Ivy,” Batman said, grabbing Robin by the collar to pull him out of the way of a lashing plant root. “Where’s Nightwing.”
“You’ll find out soon enough,” Poison Ivy sang, lounging on an approximately king-sized fly amanita. Her dress looked like a pitcher plant.
“If anything’s happened to him—”
“You have to warn us if you whammied him!” Robin interrupted, cutting to the chase.
“If I — what?” Ivy’s features all scrunched sideways, splaying out her fingers in confusion.
“Answer the question.” A carefully-aimed batarang severed the connection between the main plant system and the closest roots.
“I don’t understand the question,” Ivy said.
“Did you whammy him or not?” Catwoman asked. Harley Quinn’s hammer cracked concrete as Catwoman dodged sideways.
“What’s whammied?” Ivy demanded, exasperated.
“You know,” Robin said, using an encroaching root as a jumping-off point. “Whammied.” He made a face and gestured with both hands.
“That doesn’t mean anything!” Ivy said, irritated, sitting upright and giving up on lounging entirely. She looked to Harley for support.
Harley lifted the hammer up to rest it on her shoulder, taking a break from trying to hit Catwoman. She cupped her hands around her mouth. “They mean fuckmadness!”
“Hey!” Robin protested with faint offense.
Ivy threw up her hands and then let them fall. “Why didn’t you just say so?”
“Why didn’t I just say ‘fuckmadness’.” It both was and was not a question.
“Stop saying that!” Robin protested, navigating back toward Batman.
Harley swung her hammer at Catwoman with enough force for a quadruple pirouette. “Fuckmadness?” she asked, stumbling in a circle.
Robin, frustrated, grabbed Batman’s hands and pressed them against his ears. “There is an impressionable child present!”
Ivy squinted. “Is he serious?”
“I don’t know.” Batman attempted to reclaim his hands, and lifted Robin off the ground. Robin continued to hold Batman’s hands like earmuffs, and kicked furiously at vines with both legs. “I think it’s some kind of ironic meme thing.”