Some Live Like Tantalus

Hey there, pals! And also, GAH!!! (The Blockade Boy, he is frustrated!) My pelt is growing in quite nicely, but a new problem has developed: Tusker showed up with a heaping helping of space-roc broth, which was a nice-enough gesture, until he spilled it into my high-tech Comic Book Scanning Apparatamatron, ruining it forever. Luckily, I still had some old panels from a dopey Superboy-as-Tarzan story, lying around.

Still, it seems like everything's up in the air. Storm Boy's blind date with my Bear buddy, Darzil Hek, has been on hiatus while the grizzled actor shoots a reality show. It's called "Celebrity Wraith-Mate", and the isolated contestants have to complete "kooky" chores while being sabotaged by an unidentified cast member who is really possessed by an alien phantom. Also, I've designed a killer Twink-a-rific costume for Storm Boy, which makes him look lightyears younger, plus it really shows off his new tats. (You heard me.) Meanwhile, Tusker has only just now had his big night clubbing with his new mentor and self-styled "ladies' man", Nightmare Boy. Aw, man... that's a whole big story, kind of.

When Tusker showed up at my door with the broth, I asked him how it went, learning to be a "playa." He spread his arms out wide, and with a big, goofy grin on his big, goofy mug, he said (in an off-key sing-song tone) "Guess who got MARRIED...!" I groaned, probably like you all are doing now. I told him I was severely disappointed, and yet hardly surprised. I may have used the phrase "dumb sap." And then he got mad at me, because he had been actually joking. So then, I had to sit him down and explain to him that joking about your own shortcomings is totally not cool, because folks are likely to take you seriously, and especially because it betrays a lack of self-confidence. Running yourself down in a comedic manner is still running yourself down, people. Besides, that's what your friends are for. Still, our Tusker did, apparently, manage to "get it on" with some mutant gal. Her name is Cajun Kid, and from the holo-photo he showed me, she's quite the looker. Supposedly Tusker "felt a real connection" with her, and they've been boinking on a near-hourly basis seeing each other whenever they could spare the time. The only drawback that I can see, is that Cajun Kid's power is to slough off roiling clouds of her own highly-irritating (yet flavorful) skin cells, and -- you guessed it -- she can't control it. So now Tusker's skin is as red as a space beet, and his eyes and nose are watering all the time. Plus he sneezes a lot. Which may account for his spilling the space-roc broth into my scanner.

The dumb sap.