Do you see black and blue or white and gold? Aquaman® sees a suit of great responsibility.
Aquaman® was beside himself. He was absolutely pissed. It was supposed to be his day of serious rest and relaxation. Instead, taking the advice of his main man, Vulko®, he found himself speechifying in front of a small group of mollusks, assorted crustaceans, and starfish in order to strengthen support from all of his subjects. There had been a great divide after an offhand ichthyologist joke he made in an interview with robot Lester Holt®. All because of an offhand pun about sea anemones, enemies, and frenemies. It was a rhyme. It was cute. He didn’t mean it. In short, Karma® sucks. Apologizing wasn’t enough, so now he was on this tedious spin tour. Keep in mind, he was the type to wear his heart on his sleeve, thus it was reflective in his body language. He took the stance of a vegetarian at a meat festival behind the podium, hunched over and anxious. It was painfully obvious that he had better things to do.
“This is what it sounds like, when Silver Age Aquaman dies.”
After the strategic assassination of The Silver Age Aquaman®, it was just a matter of time before the United Villain Front™, led by current president of the United States, Donald Trump, systematically picked off The Superhero Society Force™. 80% of The Force™ were downed in one fell swoop at the funeral. It was sneaky how the bad guys planted a neutralizing dirty bomb on the corpse. Now, most of the heroes were either dead, maimed, incarcerated, crippled, or worse. It mattered naught, for the bottom line was, they were worthless against this powerful organized UVF™. The remaining heroes tried to invent a battle cry based around their 20% status to no avail.
Aquaman’s® ears were burning. Someone or some people were talking about him.
There I was, standing before my criminal peers, as well as the bosses, the dons, the capos, the crime lords, the masterminds, and the world conquerors. My objective is to convince them that I am most worthy to kill our greatest enemy, Aquaman®. I had to call upon all the eloquence Mama Killer Brick taught me. I had to call upon the conviction of every pastor and rabbi I had ever mugged. I don’t want to come off entitled, but my hatred for Aquaman® was humongous. So humongous, there is no term yet invented. If I had to invent that word, gazillious or googolnormous.
Artist’s rendering of tragic events at The Unhappy Hunting Grounds, circa 1942.
“In conclusion, that is why I believe I bear the right to kill Aquaman®.” After a detailed thirteen-minute Power Point® presentation of how Aquaman® savagely killed his brothers and father by throwing a hungry polar bear at them. The clutch-your-heart-and-squeeze moment came while the gory close-ups of the deceased faded and swiped into each other, while Sarah McLachlan’s “I Will Remember You” played. Heartstrings tugged successfully and there was not one dry eye in the house. Pretty good, considering the hall was filled with at least 200 cold-hearted criminals.