Seanbaby: Jesus, Aquaman's pie ads suck. But I love how he and his pals dress so crazy that the astronauts think they're aliens (this has happened before). Why are the astronauts even there? Doesn't the space program keep track of things like this? It seem like they should put someone in charge of remembering that a 20 million dollar space capsule filled with astronauts was landing that day.

"Ah... Houston, I don't know if you remember, but ah, it's the sixth. We landed. We believe our location to be somewhere in the Atlantic -- be advised we've encountered two gay space monsters in their underwear and several talking fish. Request immediate retrieval and two pairs of pants. Over."

Mr. Fish: I'm glad you were there to give your input on the radar reading, Mera. "Perhaps a meteor from another planet?!" Yeah. That could be, dingbat. Or maybe it's a magic pony on its way over to give your boyfriend a ride to the anal toy shop. Why don't you shut your idiot mouth and look? Or better yet, go try to find an Aqua-Radar that does more than light up a giant button whenever something is nearby. You people might as well be talking to Lassie or those giant pink seahorses you ride, and probably fuck. Not that there's anything wrong with that, I guess. Glub. I hump fish. Hell, I've humped a tuna sandwich. And turkey sandwiches. Once I boned a jar of mayonnaise and ... what was I talking about?

Luke Cage: What the hell kind of ad is this? Sweet Christmas, this underwater fruity pants couldn't sell me a pie if I was dying of... not having a pie... man, how the HELL am I supposed to write a joke with all these people dying in the streets? Shit.

Dr. Doom: Rrrggghhhh! Doom prays for death! Doom knows fully well that he will one day control the universe and posess power even beyond his incomprehensible imagination. Even so, Doom feels the only way to purge such intolerable filth as this pie adventure from his remarkable mind is death. Sweet embracing death where no such Aquaman advertisements can be found. Kill.... Doom...