Nipples, Italian Style

Well, of course, he'd dress like that. He's a hypnotist. (I remember when a traffic court ordered me to see an anger-management therapist. The doctor was dressed only in combat boots and a jockstrap... by the time I'd gotten done with him, anyway.)

From the extensive files of the International Hero website comes "Argoman"! This strapping (if disappointingly hairless) specimen of manhood is the star of an Italian film from the 1960's. But hey! Check out them nipples! Rrrowr! I'm guessing the actual costume worn by the actor was some sort of spandex deal, so you couldn't really see his nipples. A guy can dream, though. Can't he?

Alias "Sir Reginald Hoover", Argoman has super-strength, super-hearing, telekinetic powers, and a "These are not the cannoli you're looking for" type of hypnotic suggestion, which is to say it only works on really stupid people. Bonus: he loses all his powers for about six hours after having sex. Sound familiar, guys? Not to me, of course. I'm so dad-blamed virile, I wear dudes out in their efforts to satiate me. I often find myself in a "Prince of Space" scenario, where my weary partners will try to tire me out with some newfangled sex toy (or three), and I'll bellow, "Your weapons are useless against me!" Then I'll let fly with a deep, thundering chortle which terrifies/thrills them.

"So, other than the nipples -- and might I add, 'enough already!' -- how did you like the costume, Mister Blockade Boy?" Thank you for asking. And don't sass me! Once I tore my eyes off his nipples -- which took a while -- I saw that it was a pretty lame costume. Sort of a mash-up among the Black Condor, Hourman, and Cyclops. I hate it when capes are attached to the wrists. The belt is the most interesting thing about him. And it sucks. So no, I don't like the costume. But since it's Italian, I'm sure the tailoring is impeccable.