And it's the very first panel of him doing anything and yet he "can't... keep up this pace for long"?! Holy balls. Didn't he remember to charge up the suit before he left home? Or was he too busy grooming his mustache and chest hair? (In which case I totally forgive him.)
As for the people on the "trembling edifice", I'm not even sure they're falling! I'm pretty sure some of them are floating, actually! The whole panel looks like a collage (or Colorforms), with people placed hither and thither at random and nobody casting a shadow to anchor them to any one spot. ...Hey, wait just a dad-burned minute! No shadows? Well, hell! They're all vampires, Iron Man! Let 'em fall!
4 comments:
Looks like ol' Shellhead is trying to hold that crumbling balcony up with his thought balloons!
Crimson Avenger? Uncanny Repulsor Beams?
Iron Man is a trademark infringement suit just waiting to happen. And we haven't even gotten to the page with the Dark Night Flash-Lite and the Fastest Flan Alive.
And seriously, how old is he that he can't keep up the "pace" of getting off his butt and standing in place for maybe five minutes to presumably save lives? Even my hoplessly drunken grandfather can handle that much!
Giants have ... hail? When did giants get their own hail?
Conway's prose is clearly some separate, semi-sentient entity that does as it wills, because no human being could write such Dadaesque nonsense.
Isaac: Heh. They are shoring up the damage quite nicely, aren't they?
Anonymous: To be fair, the glacially-crumbling building is apparently racing away from the airplane at about ninety miles per hour. That'll add a degree of difficulty.
Scipio: I can just imagine an angry Young Conway on hold with tech support because his Melodramautomatic Prose Proctor 2000 machine (from the makers of Mister Coffee!) is spitting out gibberish. But with his deadline looming, he finally gives up and just sends the dang script in, as-is!
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