Dear Aquaman,
Look. We all think it’s pretty neat that you can talk to fish. We understand that you’ve
made some great friends among us, and from our perspective it’s been cool to talk to someone
with thoughts more complex than “EAT AND BREED” who isn’t some asshole dolphin.
But in a lot of ways, you’ve kind of been like that friend who asks to stay over at your place and
then eats your whole krill supply, accidentally crushes half of your developing eggs, and smokes
your weed without asking. (On a related note, please get us more weed. You know how hard
it was for us to get it last time, seeing as we are fish and all).
Remember that time you had to stop that hooded idiot from taking over the world and
you defeated him by throwing a hammerhead shark at his face? That shark had a name. His
name was Terry. He had a wife and three young kids that were left fatherless after the whole
throwing incident. Who’s going to fight to bring them the choicest pieces of flesh off of fallen
whale carcasses now, Aquaman? Will it be you? We somehow doubt it.
Speaking of whale carcasses, let’s not forget the blue whale you used as a giant meat shield
in your battle with Hooded Idiot #2. They’re still finding (and eating, if we’re being honest)
pieces of her all over the Pacific. According to an observant yellowfin tuna who was there at
the time, you convinced her to get in the way of that laser by saying, and I quote, “It’s fine, it’s
actually a fat-reduction laser” and that “the other whales will finally stop making fun of you
for being the ‘biggest thing in the ocean.’” What the fuck, dude?
And these offenses are really only the beginning. You’ve used dolphins as living jetskis and
mantis shrimps as living bottle openers to impress human females (who, we might add, are so
useless that they can’t even breathe underwater and can only bear one to three of your young
at a time). The squids have also told us about the frankly disturbing pornographic films you
wanted to include them in (although the word on the street is that the octopuses were more
than willing to participate). You also apparently cheat in your games of Go against the cuttlefish
(I wasn’t even going to include that one, but they’re really pissed and they get pretty scary
when they’re like that).
Our proposal is simple: You have to do shit for us, too. If you get to call on the might of
the ocean’s residents to do your dirty work, it’s only fair that we get to call on the might of your
nimble human fingers when we want to search Google Maps for frequently fished areas of the
sea. I’d say that every whale meat shield is worth at least 200 cans of distributed fish food (and
not the Costco brand crap, the real deal) and every shark thrown at someone’s face is worth
at least one skinned fishing-industry executive with the message “FISH ARE FRIENDS,
NOT FOOD” written in blood next to his body. Anyway, we can work out the details later—
let us know if you’re in. You know where to find us.
Love,
Denizens of the ocean
—I. Gonzalez
