In news surely troubling to anybody concerned about the future of the DC cinematic universe, Jason Momoa revealed this week that he finds it hard to “poopsie” (oh Khal Drogo, how far you have fallen) in his Aquaman costume.
“It looks like it’s easy to pee in that, but really it’s not,” Momoa told Entertainment Weekly. “And if you have the poopsies, it is very challenging. You’ve gotta be really good at holding it.”
Once you’ve taken a quick moment for yourself to visualize a pre-moistened Jason Momoa struggling to extricate himself from his pine-green spandex hero tights, let’s ask ourselves the obvious question: Why does Aquaman need to find a bathroom in the first place? If the character’s raison d’etre is “humanoid aquatic mammal,” then let him see that through to its logical conclusion: Giant underwater shit typhoons.
Here’s the thing: Once you get past the whole “talks to fish” thing, Aquaman’s powers are kinda boilerplate: Super strength, super toughness, super stamina — in general, your basic brawler set (having eyes adapted to see at 6,000 fathoms might be useful for finding your underwear in the dark, but it’s not the most intimidating of powers). Let’s give Aquaman an upgrade by gifting him the preferred self-defense mechanism of the sperm whale: The “poonado.”
“The marine mammal managed to create a whirlwind of excrement by spinning on its side and flapping its tail,” goes the narration in the above video, recounting the tale of four divers who got a nasty surprise from the anxious whale. “Although it isn’t uncommon to see whales defecate as they descend, this was a bowel movement with a difference, spanning over 30 meters in diameter.” The video goes on to describe the horrifying experience of one diver in particular, who had entered the water that day with just goggles and a snorkel (you can probably imagine how that turned out for him, but the phrase “wetsuit full of poop” remains a pretty striking image).
It’s also not uncommon for “hard objects such as the beaks of squids” to be passed during a whale bowel movement, and I’m sorry, but if you don’t want to watch Aquaman angrily shitting out a squid beak during a violent encounter with Ocean Master, then you and I may never be friends.
Letting Aquaman poop like a whale might also give us a good in-story explanation of how he funds some of his crime fighting activity on land, since there are surely only so many sunken pirate ships full of gold booty to be found. You may already be familiar with ambergris, a flammable, earthy-scented substance beloved by perfumers for its properties as a fixative. But did you know that ambergris is produced in the intestines of sperm whales, and mostly found in their discarded poop (and not, as is often erroneously reported, their vomit)? That seems like a talent Aquaman could make use of: As it currently stands, ambergris can be worth somewhere between $10,000 and $20,000 per pound — that’s roughly equivalent to gold.
Now, I’m not necessarily saying that I need a scene of Aquaman foraging through knee-deep piles of his own poo, pulling out nuggets of ambergris like waxy grey sweet corn chunks, but a throwaway line of dialogue referring to his “semi-liquid assets” would certainly bring a smile to my dumb, dumb face.
Finally, why not do it just for the realism factor? Whale poops are a sight to behold — a veritable haboob of liquified fecal matter, stained red with the iron-rich bodies of the krill they feast on. To see Aquaman casually unleash such a crimson torrent as he gurgles his way down to Atlantis might finally lend DC’s movies the veracity they’ve so desperately been chasing. If they really want to lean into the “mature” elements they’re so keen on touting, they can treat his sex life the same way, too, albeit this time based on the humble herring. Imagine it: An emotional, string-scored love scene in which Amber Heard’s Mera carefully deposits 30,000 of her eggs in large clumps amongst the seaweed, while Aquaman darts about, furiously ejaculating huge, gelatinous clouds of wriggling Aqua-sperm until the ocean itself turns the off-milk color of burnished ivory.
Hot.
And if it doesn’t work out? Well, who cares — it would hardly be the first time DC have presented us with a screen filled with reeking, murky, amorphous shit, and it surely won’t be the last.
Nick Leftley
Nick Leftley is MEL's senior editor, or something like that, it's not entirely clear. He writes and edits stuff, and has been doing so since print magazines were actually a thing. He smells pretty good.
