Bold claim: a $25,000 bronze statue of Handsome Squidward has vanished beneath the Mediterranean to scramble the minds of future archaeologists. And yes, this isn’t a joke—it's a meticulously planned underwater prank with real money behind it.
Sunday Nobody, a Seattle-based meme artist famous for audacious internet stunts, orchestrated a three-meter sculpture that blends Myron’s Discobolus with the meme’d Squidward, then sunk it in deep water to fuel debates about what future scholars might think. The bronze piece is genuine, the money is real, and the stunt fits Nobody’s signature blend of chaos and craft.
How the project came to life
Nobody, 29, has built a reputation on grand, impractical projects that go viral precisely because they defy common sense. His catalog includes a 3,000-pound Flamin’ Hot Cheetos sarcophagus, a Bob Ross portrait created from 7,104 paint samples, a CNC-written rendition of the entire Shrek script, a colossal Bee Movie maze, and a legal fake-ID vending machine in Brooklyn. His guiding question is straightforward: if someone asks why, he answers with why not.
For this undertaking, he forged a student ID and consulted a university archaeologist about materials that could endure a millennium underwater. Bronze won the debate about durability and safety for marine life, and Nobody explains in a 14-minute YouTube documentary that the goal was longevity without harming the ocean.
The production involved two full-size bronzes, each three meters tall, cast by China’s Cinuo Sculpture Company for roughly $4,000 apiece, plus smaller versions. The design fuses the ancient Discobolus—one of antiquity’s most copied sculptures—with Handsome Squidward, the ultra-muscled SpongeBob character representing extreme self-confidence and dramatic transformations. Once the crates reached Greece, Nobody, aided by his studio assistant Nattie and local workers on the Halkidiki Peninsula, moved the statues to the sea. They floated them on inflatable rafts and even an air mattress, cut the lines, and watched the sculpture sink upright to a favorable landing after a brief 25–30 foot descent. A short GoPro edit followed, and the clip exploded online, especially after a December 8, 2025 repost from @nexta_tv.
Broader impact and reactions
The stunt ripples beyond the art world in surprising ways. A Solana-based meme coin inspired by the act, $DISCOBOLUS, briefly spiked to a multimillion-dollar market cap as the footage circulated, illustrating how internet spectacle can spill over into crypto hype. The second bronze statue is up for auction on Nobody’s site (last listed around $4,001), and the limited-run mini versions, priced at $500, sold out quickly.
What future archaeologists might make of it all
Nobody is transparent about his motive: to place Handsome Squidward’s face on an ancient Greek statue and sink it to the Mediterranean floor to confuse future archaeologists. The internet, however, quickly spotted a flaw: we currently live in an era of unprecedented documentation. As one commenter observed, “Nothing will confuse archaeologists of the future. We are in the most well-documented era of humankind.” Another noted, “Even if the internet vanished, people know what kind of stupid things other people could do.” Still, the joke travels far, with imagined scholars in 3025 decoding SpongeBob mythology or debating the “Squidward culture” that so inspired this piece. The repost from @nexta_tv helped push the hashtag #SquidwardStatue into trending territory, amassing millions of views.
This stunt also sparked a serious debate among archaeologists about the ethics and practicalities of planting fabricated artifacts, even as jokes. Introducing artificial objects can complicate underwater heritage work and future surveys, a concern underscored by UNESCO guidelines. Nobody acknowledges that he operated in a legal gray area, noting he did not obtain permits.
Why this resonates (and unsettles) audiences
For many observers, the project reveals a deeper tension: modern culture’s love of remixing ancient aesthetics with meme-driven humor. In a century when nearly everything is archived, the mystery that once fueled archaeology feels harder to recreate, even when someone sinks a three-meter bronze Squidward to the sea floor. And yet the spectacle captivates because it forces us to ponder how meaning evolves when myth blends with memes, art with internet chaos, and heritage with viral stunts.
