"So, these two guys walk into a reservoir..."
It's not just a great start for a filthy joke; it's also a pithy summary of page twelve of "The Perfect Fighting Machine." Which wouldn't be so bad, if it wasn't a seventeen-page story.
The top third of the page: "Bye, Alfred! I'm goin' to the reservoir!"
The middle third of the page: "Here comes Batman! To the reservoir!"
The bottom third of the page: "And there goes our guy into the reservoir!"
You're right, Incredible Melting Alfred. He could've turned out like Green Arrow or Iron Man. "Better the douche you know," as they say.
Ugh... a floppy-rimmed Old Man Hat. Those things give me the willies. But then, so do floppy old-man willies.
And it looks like that "jacked-up mummy hand" disease has jumped from Alfred to General Angst. That pretty much confirms for me that it's an STD.
The hell with internal logic! Denny O'Neil learned a new medical term, and he's gonna insert it into the dialog if it takes a crowbar and a sledge hammer.
I mean, all Moon did was give Tub a little silicone enhancement and then have him work out twelve hours a day. If that turns a guy into a moron, then... oh.