Oh, I can sympathize with Batman. Only last month, I had this Plantar's wart that just would not go away. I tried putting some dry ice on it, and I swear to the Luck Lords, not only did the damn thing actually get bigger, but a squeaky, scoffing voice issued from it, informing me that it "washes [its] balls in ice water," just like that Russian mob guy that Paulie and Christopher tried to kill in the snow, on "The Sopranos." One night, when when the wart was about the size of a bottle cap, it just opened up like a flower, and a handsome, well-hung (proportionately, anyway) little faerie-man (with hummingbird wings!) flitted out of it. He was beautiful. I was moved beyond words. I didn't cry, though. AND I'LL FIGHT ANY MAN WHO SAYS I DID! *looks around, menacingly* Anyway, the tiny fella pretty much immediately slammed into my patio door and knocked himself out.
And then Cootie ate him.
Where was I?
Oh, yeah. The Mole. I don't understand why the Batman's minor medical crisis warrants an entire cover, but...
Oh.
Yeah, that'll jack up your prize-winning rose bushes.
And yes, this is a Roy Thomas story. Which means it's chock-full of horribly, wonderfully bloviated caption boxes like these:
"Not quite the Witching Hour"? Then who gives a shit?
And if you ask me, this comic would have been a lot better if they would have added an accent mark to the "e" in "Mole". 'Cause then the story could have followed a mysterious figure, named after a type of delicious Mexican sauce. I'm picturing a cross between "El Mariachi" and "Iron Chef." ("Today's mystery ingredient is... a machine gun!" *cue kick-ass gun battle*)
But wait! What's that intriguing poster I spy on the left side of the frame? Computer, zoom out!
Why, it's an advertisement for Batman's lounge act, "Urban Terrorist", in town for one night only, at the Gotham Cabaret! Thrill as his rendition of "September Song" devolves into a prolonged rant about America's criminal justice system! Then retreat into the lobby and buy one of his cassette tapes from that creepy college kid in the scaly green shorts.
The Mole is so mind-bendingly
But as a consolation, please, enjoy this panel of Doctor Abraham Lincoln, Freudian analyst:
10 comments:
Dude, he's casually playing with his glasses while tapping his pipe? That's some serious psychaiatristing there.
Omigod, this story guest-stars Woody Allen's Analyst??? I must know the details!
That logo and title on the lounge act poster--Ack! It's an early solicit for All-Star Batman and Robin!
So, how exactly do we convince DC to let you write a Molé mini-series? I'll buy it. Especially if it takes place a little before (but of course not at) the Witching Hour. That's a different book, you see.
Blockade boy, I love and heart and need your blog. Where would I be now without it? Are you single? I've always wanted to date a super. Super!
I laughed not once, not twice...but thrice! And then some more times after that...
Jon: Hey, Lincoln doesn't shit around. Just ask Robert E. Lee.
Phillip: Heh! The funny thing is, the doc's patient is a nebbishy l'il shlub of a man. Only, he's built more like a young Jackie Mason.
Anonymous: I'm putting you in charge of the e-mail campaign. And maybe it would help if the book guest-starred the ice-cream vigilante I envisioned in my 10/27/2006 post!
CT: You're terribly sweet, but it would never work. I live nearly 1,000 years in the future, and in a parallel universe. And I hate commuting.
Justin: I hope you remembered to rest, in between. Also, you should drink plenty of water. I don't want any of my readers perishing of dehydration.
Well then what do you want us to perish from?
I prefer the Spook to the Mole, although now I'm thinking about an entire Mole family for him to surround himself with: "Big" Harry Mole, exchange-student turned reluctant criminal Guaca Mole, the merciless "Whacka" Mole, the beautiful and inscrutable Mole Antonelliana. You don't see thematically related crime families quite the way you used to.
I think I need to go to sleep.
Gotta love Roy Thomas' way with words.
And I'd pay good money to read a Brave & The Bold featuring Mole (with an accent over the e) and Matter-Eater Lad!
Bill S.: Death by snoo-snoo!
I got a helluva chuckle out of your Mole Family (a Dollar Comics title if ever I heard one) and I agree: the Mole Antonelliana is gorgeous.
Fortress Keeper: They could rename the book, "The Bold and the Spicy!"
I thought I had a Plantar's Wart once. Thank God it was just a Manitou.
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