Spinner Rack: Aquaman - The Fish in the Iron Mask, Part One

I'll admit it: I used to think Aquaman was pretty lame. He was always the one in the Justice League whose challenge felt made up because of shoehorning water into the equation. But I decided to write about Aquaman because a friend of mine used to think he was the coolest character in the DCU. She's since passed away, so I'm sending this one out in her memory.

And yet, even to honor my friend, I still thought Aquaman was lame! That is until I started reading "Invasion of the Giant Reptiles" in Aquaman #13. What are two of the worst disasters this planet has seen in the past couple of years? One is the recent horrific tsunami in Japan. Another is the recent catastrophic oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico. This story opens with a tsunami and an oil tanker and a double disaster in the making. And yet Aquaman manages to avert both calamities. That's about as non-lame as a character can be. If Aquaman had been around after Japan's earthquakes, he could have stopped the tsunami. If Aquaman had been swimming the seven seas he could have capped the oil spill with only a barrel or two lost.

Why doesn't Aquaman exist?

At least he can be found in comics filled with silvery goodness. Rather than go with the Giant Reptile story — and it was a temptation, believe me — I decided instead to read a World's Finest #132 story (in my Showcase Presents Aquaman 2, hence the black and white scans) entitled, "The Fish in the Iron Mask." How on earth was I supposed to resist that title?

The story opens with an assurance that "It wasn't a dream, or a fantastic disguise," just in case we didn't believe what we were about to read. "No, it was all grimly true," it tells us. Really? “Grimly true?” I wonder if any children fell for that line thinking that this particular Aquaman adventure really happened? I wonder if anyone made a documentary of it, because trust me, I'd pay good money to see that.

The splash page shows Aquaman fighting an octopus that is wearing an iron mask. The octopus is speaking English, and Aqualad, who appears free from peril, tells us that the octopus is Topo. He then states the obvious, telling us Topo is speaking aloud and wearing an iron mask, just in case we didn't notice those two things. But it's his final line that brings this into the realm of the sublime. “Aquaman! None of it makes any sense!” No kidding, Aqualad!

The story begins with Aquaman and Aqualad hanging out at home after a long patrol. This opening panel gives us one of the craziest things I have ever seen in a comic book — and trust me when I say I look for crazy. I delight in crazy. This one, however, goes in my crazy Hall of Fame. In their “undersea home” Aquaman and Aqualad have a pet fish. The pet fish is in a goldfish bowl and the bowl has a waterline on it. To review: they're underwater, they have a goldfish bowl with a fish in it, and you can see the waterline on the goldfish bowl. How does that work? How do they get the fish, which seems a bit large for the bowl, to stay in its tiny home? What happens when he tries to pour fish flakes in — do they all just float away? Do any of them make it into the bowl? Why is Aquaman so cruel? And why can I accept that a man breathes water, lives in the ocean, never appears to have any problems with depth pressures and swims almost as fast as the Flash runs, but the goldfish bowl thing is well beyond my suspension of disbelief?

I can't believe I'm on the first page and I've already found a panel that has this much absurdity. Sometimes life is sooo good!

Before I get too hung up on the goldfish bowl (and I admit, I passed that benchmark a while ago) let's get back to the story. Aquaman is concerned because he hasn't been able to reach his pet octopus, Topo, for several hours. Perhaps he should keep Topo in a bowl. Suddenly, a signal fish (there are signal fish?) tells him that an octopus is running wild on the SS Minnow. Apparently Gilligan is in trouble. Will Aquaman be able to stop the cephalopod from stealing the professor's coconut-driven car?

When they arrived at the SS Minnow (which has nothing to do with Gilligan!) They come upon “an astonishing sight.” What they see is an iron-mask-wearing octopus attacking a bunch of sailors. They instantly identify this masked octopus as Topo. I have no idea how Aquaman managed this particular astounding ID. The head is covered up, so he can't see his friend's face. The helmet keeps Topo's brainwaves from getting out so telepathy didn't help. Perhaps Aquaman just knows Topo's tentacles so very well. I guess I never realized that tentacles were so individualized. But then, I've never had a pet octopus.

Aquaman rushes to get between the sailors and Topo and tries to put an end to the fight. Topo grabs him and throws him across the deck. Aqualad, who is apparently there not to fight, but to narrate, says, “Leaping lionfish! He doesn't recognize you!” (Let's hope that was what it was and not that Aquaman was two-timing Topo with a cuttlefish.) Next Topo grabs an anchor chain while Aqualad tells us what's in the drawing by saying, “Aquaman—Topo's twirling that anchor chain as easily as a lasso! He must have the strength of 100 octopi!”

To which Aquaman replies, “Yes — and he'll really hurt someone if we don't stop him!” You think, Aquaman? I'm assuming that stopping the out-of-control rogue pet octopus was sort of the point of this story. Well, that and getting the mask off so you can be sure it really was Topo.

Aquaman sends up a bunch of electric eels to zap Topo in the helmet, which gets its attention pretty quickly. Topo dives over the side of the boat and then starts chasing an old man in a motor boat. Topo drags the boat, grabs the old man in his tentacles and then releases the old man without harming him. This is quite inexplicable to Aquaman, but doesn't remain so for long because Topo begins to speak.

In a human voice, Topo explains that he let the man go because he was old and that wouldn't do for his purposes. Aquaman, however, would be perfect for his plan. Then Aqualad, still repeating everything so we are all on the same page, says, “T-Topo! A-Are you actually talking out loud?” I thought we had pretty much established that. I think Aqualad may be a little … slow.

“No, you fool — the voice and brains are mine, Merdo the wizard!” Okay, the joke is on me. I apologize, Aqualad, for calling you slow. It was not a dumb question. Who could have possibly guessed that it wasn't Topo behind all these rogue actions, but rather Merdo the wizard?

I wonder who Merdo the wizard is?

If you don't know, you had better mark your calendars to come back next month and find out exactly how Topo, the friendly cephalopod, became Merdo, the really not-nice wizard! And yet there's more! More aquatic adventures! More dazzling mysteries! More repetitive narrating of what's in a panel by Aqualad! You can't miss this!

If you'd like to learn more, including a detailed bio and more information about Joanna's books, please visit her website.

This is a guest article. The thoughts and opinions in this piece are those of their author and are not necessarily the thoughts of the Certified Collectibles Group.