Seanbaby
In the '70s and '80s, you'd find most superheroes trapped in spider webs or flying toy airplanes because every villain they ever faced invented the shrink ray. Batman and Robin have spent more time in jars than they have in healthy relationships. However, in the episode 
Here's the plot: Gulliver and his unexplainedly intelligent cat Igor started shrinking the world's people, and when the Super Friends tried to stop him, he shrank them too. He even got his cat involved:
Oh, the other thing about the first season of Super Friends is that it was an hour long. Which meant that in this episode, the stars of the show spent 40 fucking minutes trapped in pickle jars and listening to a madman explain how a planet of two inch people would solve our food shortages and make our beaches less crowded. He wasn't completely batshit, though. He mentioned how he'd leave a few people regular size to drive tractors or whatever. What's weird is that the man who invented the world's 1,328th shrink ray didn't consider all the problems being two inches tall would cause. For example, chili is now served like the world's worst hot tub. A broken lock on a hamster cage is an extinction level event. And everyone's 14 inch dildo now just looks ridiculous.
Batman and Robin flew a paper airplane into the cat's head that was, no bullshit, the hardest impact against a super villain in the entire history of the show. Meanwhile, Aquaman sat around wishing he wasn't in a dry, fishless basement and all of these plans somehow came together to zap Gulliver with his own ray and help him see that shrinking people against their will is wrong. At first I thought this might be some preachy anti-American propaganda about not imposing your superior values onto others. However, as Superman went on and on and on about it, it became clear that there was no allegory or metaphor. The lesson being taught to children here really was that you should never shrink anyone. And more importantly, you should never get a job writing cartoons when your main hobbies are recreational drugs and head injuries.
It's understandable that this children's cartoon didn't deal much with the catastrophic results of a monster ripping its way out of a moon right next to our planet. I give them the artistic license to ignore that. Watching millions die under tidal waves and lunar debris would be depressing and hard to draw. Then again, they might have no idea what planets and stars are. For instance, when the moon monster spits Superman into the sun and he lays there complaining about how he's being turned into hydrogen... that's something you'd write after you had to look up "the sun" in a dictionary. "I've got to resist 28 percent of me becoming helium, and fast!"
Talking, awesome, alien termites are blasted to Earth from a volcano on Venus and within four minutes, every building on the planet has been devoured. The animators didn't draw any actual people being eaten the termites, but it'd be pretty stupid to assume the death count was anything less than hundreds of millions. Superman, Samurai, Batman and Robin do the only thing that makes sense-- they fly to a remote area of the world and discuss how fucked they are. Through sheer dumb luck, they fall into a pit, encounter the leader of the space termites, and the rest of the cartoon is spent running from him. I'm not a psychologist, but was this script shrieked at rescue workers while a writer was being eaten alive by termites?
Like most people, I didn't pursue a lot of science after 9th grade stopped requiring it, but I'm pretty sure this episode was delivered to us from a universe with a completely different set of thermodynamic laws. It is biblically deranged. A giant rubs Earth in his beard and throws our planet into his purse... why would you even write something like that if you weren't trying to prove your grade school teachers were wolves? It's either a prank on the viewers or a prank on Hanna Barbera studios. All I'm saying is that if I was a Korean animator, drawing this nonsense is exactly how I would tell an American cartoon writer to fuck himself.
Three martian convicts named Omo, Jabu, and Never Mentioned steal a Mars probe heading back to Earth and immediately begin kicking ass. And I mean that in the hardest possible way-- they don't simply attack monuments or declare themselves king-- they start eating an aircraft carrier, leave Superman and Green Lantern on the bottom of the ocean, and steal three F-18s.
No way is anyone on this planet beating anything as tough as the Martian Convicts. Superman realizes this and comes up with the fantastic plan of putting them somewhere else. He flies over to NASA and demands their best rocket. They don't have one, so he builds one in about five seconds. Wait, how lazy is Superman? He'd rather watch the Earth get eaten than throw termites into space for more than a minute, and he'd rather nag a guy for a free rocket in twice the time it would take to build his own? He is a genius, though. His plan was a success and the Martians left in their new rocket. Your problem now, space! The Super Friends win again!
Actually, that didn't work. In order to explain what happened next I'll have to use the sentence I've been waiting my entire life to type: One of the Rock and Roll Space Bandits switched to keytar mode and rocked the mind of a construction worker into hitting the giant lobster with a crane. Batman switched on his Batjet's Bat Sound Absorber and it neutralized all of their hypnotic music. Strangely, it did not neutralize any of the conversation that took place afterwards, which means the Bat Sound Absorber only absorbs rock n' roll from outer space. Holy crap, let that sink in. Still, it saved the day and it's as close as any Bat Device has ever come to working as intended.
Seanbaby is probably the world's leading Super Friends expert. For real, look: 