Make Atlantis Great Again

Three weeks ago, Aquaman, the King of Atlantis, began a personal evolution. It is not a coincidence that the transformation began right after meeting Trump, the strange orange-skinned surface dweller, during a peace summit.

Aquaman had heard many stories from his fellow Justice Leaguers about Trump’s atrocious acts, but up close, in person, he was a walking bloody decapitated car accident. You could not look away. Aquaman saw in Trump, a rabid unicorn, a rare being, yet completely disgusting in every conceivable way: his voice, the way he spoke and over-gesticulated, the way he ate with his mouth open, in general, the way he carried himself.

He was mesmerized and had so many questions. How does a thing of that stature find comfort and ease behaving so boorishly? How much privilege does it take to turn into this sort of walking hatred and disrespect? Is it too much pride, or the absence of pride, which creates such a despicable monster?

As he stared at the piece of garbage, Trump lifted his hands in the air while speaking to foreign ambassadors, “Look over there at Aquaman. He’s doing fantastic things over there in Atlantis. Come on over here. Come on.”

Aquaman responded half-heartedly, and proceeded to own the moment with regal stride. Trump put his arm around him and smiled for a photo. Aquaman, utterly unaware, blinked with his mouth wide open. This would be the picture shared around the world.

“I just want you to know, you’re doing a great job.” With this, Trump handed him a package, whispering, “Here’s a little parting present to remember me by.”

To be absolutely precise, it was immediately after opening the “gift”, Aquaman was forever changed. All he wanted to do now was to divide, play golf, and Tweet® opinions. He considered himself blessed by discovering how easy it is to let yourself go. Unchecked, unfiltered. Those low IQ barracudas need to shut the fuck up or I’ll show them fire and fury like they have never seen the likes of before. Atlantis will have a border wall and the shit hole surface dwellers will pay for it.

Sitting on the armrest of the throne was a VHS tape in a zip-lock™ bag. Written on the spine: EXPERIMENTAL TEENAGE FISH SEX.