It's never easy having a famous parent. Just ask one Nanaue Sha'ark, the son of Poseidon. Or Namaka. Or Neptune. Or Kamohoalii. He didn't really know, but the results from Star Labs definitely hinted at something divine.

He was an amphibious demigod with dominion over the land or the sea, with hide tough enough to shrug off machine gun bullets, tensile jaw strength that could break Superman's hide, and was possibly the unmentionable cousin of Wonder Woman… but all of that really didn't mean that much because he was certifiably DUMB AS A BRICK.

Perhaps it was a lack of good schools in the ocean. (Schools of fish don't count.) Perhaps it was the genetic havok caused by interspecies romance. Perhaps he simply never desired to question life beyond his predatory instincts whenever he wandered onto land.

No one really knows, not even King Shark himself. Because frankly, he had either forgotten centuries ago or lacked the vocabulary to articulate his id.

It was his daily habits that truly displayed King Shark's dumbness. For instance, attempting to make toast while taking a bath, gnawing on his own limbs when he got restless, being surprised to discover the person on O Magazine was Oprah Winfrey every single time - that sort of thing.

He was by far the least desired guard duty assignment in Belle Reve, given his propensity for eating prison guards, inmates, other sharks and even the occasional death row inmate he got every once in a while for good behavior. If not for the incredibly gory and profanity-filled nature of the video's Albrecht Krieger "Pardoned Prank" would have made for a great internet video.

But as long as you kept all of your person out of the water during bath time or your hands outside of the prison bars he really just kept to himself. The few better-natured employees of Belle Reve had even amused themselves by patiently teaching him certain curse words and phrases to better communicate with him.

For instance, "fuck" whenever he was frustrated, "nom nom" whenever he was hungry, and for some inexplicable reason "teletubby" whenever he wanted to watch television. No one claimed credit for teaching him this, so they could only assume he had somehow learned this elsewhere.

That was exactly the kind of environment that existed the day King Shark did the dumbest thing he had ever done in his life. He was attempting to finish The Fountainhead, a gift from the superhero who had brought him in, The Question. After four years of imprisonment and little else to do, he was still unsuccessful in finishing it. He literally and figuratively didn't understand the concept of A is A.

On guard were Frank Bole, Gregory Wolfe, and Richard Craemer.

"So, King Shark, I've always been curious." One Bole asked. "Who was the shark - your Mom or your Dad?"

"Aw, man, don't ask him that." Wolfe cringed. "Some things are better left a mystery. Like why he thinks he's fooling anybody when he's reading a book upside-down..."

"KING SHARK READ IN FREE TIME." King Shark said. "SO SMART."

"Yeah, you're a regular reading rainbow." Bole said. "I just saw The Simpsons parody of it, like a slob. I was curious, pal - do you remember who your parents were?"

"MOM AND DAD?" King Shark mused. "I DUNNO. ONE SHARK, ONE HUMAN THEY TELL ME."

"I remember in my mythology course they said the Greek gods often turned into animals when they wanted to get away from their spouses. What if… both were human and one of them just turned into a shark when they - you know-" Bole motioned crudely.

"Eeeeeeuuuuuuwwwww." Craemer said.

Wolfe simply shook his head and motioned his finger to his mouth, sticking his tongue out.

"That's nasty. Why did you even take that class, Bole?" Wolfe said. "You got your degree. I mean it was from Bludhaven, but still."

"For your information, Central City, I took it for research." Bole said. "I mean, between that archeologist chick witching out, someone running around who claims to be the daughter of Zeus and Jabberjaw there… can't afford to not know this stuff nowadays."

"Hmmm. That's what I keep telling everyone." Craemer said. "I'm putting in a request to Warden Cash to have him attend mass, maybe he'll find some friends there."

A blue light flashing overhead signalled that their superior was entering, one Aaron Cash.

"At ease." Cash said, gesturing with his left arm and right hand tucked into his pocket. "Mr. Sha'ark, your time has come to serve your country's interests. You know, the one where you follow the rats but don't eat them. Mind, you don't enjoy American citizenship, but you washed up on Hanalei Bay, therefore you're our problem."

"BUSY. GO AWAY." King Shark said. "I STAY AWAKE THIS TIME."

"Don't worry, I'll be sure to leave your place. Be sure to follow the rats but don't eat them." Cash said. He held up his radio to his ear. "Control, give SBV4#1 a mild topsy."

Light flooded the room around the cell as an electrical charge filled King Shark's body, knocking him on the floor.

"OW." He said.

Cash rolled his eyes as his subordinates winced. They hadn't even him before delivering the charge, it was no more painful than a joy buzzer to one such as King Shark. And they, if anyone, knew why he was not prone to taking another chance with anthropomorphic

water-dwelling creatures.

"Get the muzzle prepared before he wakes up." Cash scratched his beard absentmindedly, the metal of his hand hot from the Louisiana sun. "Wolfe, you're up for a raise, so you get attaching duty."

"Seriously?" Wolfe shook his head. "This is bullshit. Shoulda have taken that job at Iron Heights."

King Shark punctured the moment by belching in his stupor, sending a few soggy pages from out of his mouth.

…

A few hours later, King Shark had been briefed on the mission, and was prowling for escapees of Task Force X in the sewers of Central City. King Shark had a keen sense of smell and could breathe underwater, so he was the ideal choice for such an endeavor.

"SMELLS LIKE JERSEY." King Shark said, parroting a phrase Bole had taught him to say. As he wandered around, he sniffed about diligently and dimly recognized a rat poking around in the garbage about fifty feet away.

"NOM-NOM." King Shark whispered.

"No, no, no! Not nom-nom!" Cash's voice protested over the comms. "What have I told you over the past few - just stay perfectly still, okay? It'll report back to its masters if it sees you."

But it was too late. King Shark thundered towards the rat who attempted to scurry away, but it was fruitless. With a crunch and a frightened squeak, all of the creature's troubles came to an end.

"We told you about this." Cash groaned. "We have been preparing you for this mission for - what has it been - thank you, Cramey, MONTHS now - don't eat the rats. She doesn't like it when you eat rats. You're such a doofus."

"NO, KING SHARK IS A SHARK." King Shark rebutted. "I EAT HER WHILE STILL ALIVE. DINNER AND SHOW."

Cramey blanched, realizing that he had made the same mistake Harleen Quinzel had made so many years before. At least he could take comfort in the fact it had only been on a platonic level.

As King Shark turned a corner, without warning a mischief of rats swarmed upon King Shark. He lunged forward greedily, hoping to gobble all of them up, only for vice versa to happen as they entered his body and consumed him from the inside out as he had so many before. Only at least they had the decency to share.

As the crew back in Belle Reve were scrambling to pick up a visual (unaware the camera attached to King Shark's head had been consumed in the feeding frenzy), a figure clad in a brown cloak, wooden staff and gas mask watched as her babies fed, having avenged their family member.

"I'm sorry, Nanaue." Ratcatcher shook her head. "You may have been king up there, but I am queen down here."