On the Town

My closeout sale was a huge success! We managed to sell everything except for the boat-sized Orandoan jockstrap, which was studded with dazzle gems, ornamented by some gorgeous spectrium filigree and, for some reason, powered by hydrogen. So it probably was intended for a "niche market." I sure as hell wasn't going to haul the bastard back to my pirate ship, and I didn't want to just turn it over to the U.P. I was stuck... until I remembered that we were on Rimbor, the shadiest planet in the galaxy. So we put a little sign on it that said "Do Not Steal". The last I saw it, a dozen young Rimborian gang members were hauling it off, their vertebrae noisily collapsing as they went.

I raked in a ton of space-cheddah with this sale, that's for damn sure. So -- with my typical generosity -- I treated everybody to a night on the town. Just left to our own devices, Rainbow Girl and I would have just gone our separate ways for some jolly, pirate-style, property-destroying, ass-kicking debauchery. Sadly, we had a recovering alcoholic (Storm Boy) and a naive simpleton (Tusker) in tow... so that slowed us down somewhat. We started out with a big dinner. I had ten of the thickest, juiciest kanga-bronc steaks I've ever tasted at a famous Rimborian joint, "Extinction" E Sau's Eatery. At E Sau's, every animal on the menu is personally hunted down and mercilessly slaughtered for you by E Sau himself, while-u-wait, for guaranteed freshness! Afterwards, we strolled through Rimbor's historical Moonshiner's District, taking in the sights.

At one point, a beautiful girl waved at Tusker and gestured for him to come talk to her. This made Tusker dejected for some reason, and he quickly put his head down and tried to ignore her. We all cajoled him to go over there and flirt. He said, "Nothin' good ever happens to me whenever somebody says 'come over here.' Usually they're tryin' to sell me somethin' or they wanna pick a fight with me, or maybe they just kick me in the 'nads and take my wallet."

"You dumb jerk," I said, warmly. "You've got to wake up to the fact that you're an interesting, well-dressed guy who the ladies (and a lot of men) are going to be attracted to! Stop hating on yourself, you idiot! Go over there and chat her up!" So Tusker went to talk with her. I spotted a tavern where, years ago, I beat the crap out of and then made love to an entire hover-bike gang and while I was telling the story to Rainbow Girl and Storm Boy I glanced back over at Tusker and saw him laid out on the sidewalk, howling with pain and grasping his privates, while the beautiful girl made off with his wallet.

Rainbow Girl and Storm Boy helped Tusker up while I nabbed the thief. I confiscated the wallet and carted her back over to Tusker.

"Told you," pouted Tusker.

I asked the beautiful girl if she only asked Tusker to talk to her so she could rob him. As I could have predicted, she answered, "Well, actually I thought he looked kind of sexy and dangerous and cool and I was thinking maybe we might go somewhere and make out. But when he started talking to me, he came off like this self-pitying whiner, y'know, just a total jerk-off, so I figured I'd just kick him in the 'nads and take his wallet."

I thumped Tusker in the nose with his wallet. "See, you dope? Self-fulfilling prophecy." I think I saw a glint of recognition in his big sad eyes. Maybe my words are finally starting to sink in.

Rainbow Girl really wanted to do some bar-hopping. Since Storm Boy was looking a little shaken in the midst of so much cheap booze, we decided to split up. Rainbow Girl took Tusker with her while I squired Storm Boy. To distract Storm Boy from the temptations of Demon Rum, I took him to a show. There were a lot of good plays and pageants to choose from! We finally wound up seeing the all-android revival of Leroy Anderson's "Goldilocks."

It was a heckuva spectacle, made all-the-more thrilling by the fact that they used two android replicas of Elaine Stritch -- one as the sexy, sassy young ingenue, which is the role Stritch originated, and an older version for the part of the duplicitous landlady. I'd hoped the show would cheer Storm Boy up a little. And for the most part I think it did, but I noticed him silently crying during the poignant ballad "I Never Know When to Say When." Also, he glanced longingly over at me for much of the song "Who's Been Sitting in My Chair?" -- especially the part where Android Stritch sings "I'd like a two-fisted biped for my budoir." Still, we left the show laughing and singing little bits of the songs and just having a grand old time, and I deposited him back at the ship in good spirits. And then I hit Rimbor's famed Man-Whore District like a tsunami and pretty much leveled the place. I woke up the next morning, all sore and groggy, to hear Storm Boy singing "The Pussyfoot" from "Goldilocks":

Tiger cats
Tip their hats
Flip their whiskers and purr,
Pekingese
Tell their fleas
Fellas, fellas, it's her!
It don't behoove a lady to lie.
There is no other pussy like I...

And then I clamped my pillow over my ears and went back to sleep.

Call Me Madman

Because I based my clearance event salespitch on "Can You Use Any Money Today" from the Irving Berlin musical "Call Me Madam" and then let Storm Boy deliver it... as a rap.

Well, THERE'S That Uncluttered Desk--!

Although it still looks a little messy to me... hang on. *sweeps back of hairy arm into telephone, knocking it onto floor* There. Now it's perfect. *sighs contentedly*

What, me have issues?

Anyway, not only can we finally see the top of that desk, but the whole room no longer has the spooky "Night Gallery" lighting going on... now that the Abominable Mister Kline is no longer in it! Nope, Mister Kline is like a Bizarro version of my dad, making sure that any time somebody leaves a room that they turn the lights on. ("Me am made of money, you don't know!") Because if there's anything that impresses people more than handling the delay causation of a personage, it's making sure that nobody can ever see your face, or your delicate, bird-like... ankles... holy shit.

I just figured out who Mister Kline really is! (And what he does in his "off hours", heh-heh...)

The Ladies of So Super Duper (Well, Two of Them, Anyway)

Brian Andersen's "So Super Duper" has some solid costume designs, but I think some of the female characters could dress a little more... professionally. So with Brian Blessed -- er, I mean Brian's blessing -- I tried my hand at redesigning a few of the ladies' costumes! I worked on three of them but my "Sky Girl" picture turned out pretty effed-up looking, to be honest, and just as a good chef won't serve a meal that's sub-par, I'm not going to post it. (Seriously, she looked like Quasimodo, as played by Jennifer Lopez. It was a nightmare.)

But at least I can show you my designs for Sass and Tink!

Here's Sass, the team's super-tough strong lady. I gave her a semi-relaxed afro like Beyonce wore in that Austin Powers movie she did. The collar on the one-piece is based on real-world fashions. I wanted to make sure the bottom was cut low enough to be practical (i.e. it wouldn't ride up or require a bikini wax). Ladies, you'll have to let me know if I succeeded or not. There's a clasp/brooch on the waist where a belt buckle would be (one of my trademarks) and I added a short cape for the nostalgia factor and to give the eye a rest from all that purple. The clasps on the shoulders mirror the design of the "buckle."

I still have a lot of practicing before I can draw women as easily as men, so maybe Tink was easier for me because she's a fairy and I wasn't trying to make her face or bodily proportions as realistic-looking as I did with Sass.

I replaced Tink's cheerleader duds with a straight-up superhero costume because I liked the visual/conceptual contrast it made with her fairy body, wings and all. I gave her longer hair, styled how some of the retro pin-up gals like to wear it -- pinned back with two flowers in it. I continued the flower theme by putting a stylized lily on the bodice. And although Tink looks like a total ditz in "So Super Duper" I liked the idea that she might have a dark side, and that the airhead thing was all an act. That's why I drew the "mean" face in the lower left-hand corner. You don't want this thing angry with you. Trust me.

Oh, and about Sky Girl... you can find my idea of her new costume amongst my other scribblings right here... she's the gal in the J-Lo/Rhoda Morgenstern headwrap, with the hurricane symbol on her bosom.

Extreme Blockadeover: This is the Champion, My Friends

Congratulations, Lydean "Silvercat" Kind!

After much anguished, heart-rending, beard-tugging deliberation, I've chosen your submission to be my new costume! Yours came out on top because I liked the pure superhero vibe of it, combined with the castle-shaped cutout to show off my intimidating crop of chest hair. It's genius, and something your standard (i.e. "straight") male superhero would never wear in a million years. (Power Boy doesn't count, because he waxes his chest, and also because he's not exactly a good guy.) Also, I've been thinking about getting more into the superhero/adventurer side of things in some capacity, so this will be a perfect look for me. And it helps that when I was scouting locations for my tent sale in the Rimbor Black Mega-Market this morning, I bought these KEWL bracers that shoot brick-wall-shaped forcefields that can knock my foes on their asses!

(Hey, Storm Boy... think fast! *SHPA-PAANNNGGG!!!* Aw, too slow, buddy! ...Heh, heh...)

So anyway, there's the offensive capability I need to be a proper superhero, and it fits my name and my personality! I mean, as most of my former lovers will tell you, I'm all about the blunt-force trauma.

For your prize, I'd be happy to send you the original artwork for the action shot I posted up there. Or I can do something else if you like. It's no trouble at all! Just e-mail me with your request. If you'd rather not give out your mailing address, I can send the art to a P.O. box or even another person on your behalf. Just let me know!

Extreme Blockadeover: the Contenders

CLANG!

That's the sound of the deadline crashing down on my contest to discover my next great costume! Thank you, everybody who sent me an entry... even the obvious joke ones, which were uniformly hilarious. Now I have to sort through my "maybe" pile. Let's see...

Going in chronological order, there's Jonathan Munroe's 'stache-tastic steampunk aviator design...

...Chawunky's design is sophisticated-sexy with the briefest bolero jacket I've ever laid eyes on...

...Philip Rice's gold-trimmed leather suit takes me from business casual to a night on the prowl by just zipping down the jacket and giving every guy an eyeful of my fantastic fur...

...After one of my trademark tongue-lashings, MaGnUs roared into the "maybe" pile with this smart, unpretentious Musketeer look... okay, so maybe the facial hair is pretentious, but that's the way I likes it!...

...Justin Garrett Blum rocked my world with this Ditko-esque fantasy barbarian look (even if I've got about 150 pounds more muscle than the model he used)...

...MaGnUs reworked a gimpy "no thanks" into a take-charge "maybe" with this design that's like a John Romita, Jr. X-Men costume, only tasteful...

...Lydean "Silvercat" Kind devised this classically bad-ass fortress-themed look...

...Here's Nicolas M.'s sleek, prismatic suit with appropriately close-cropped hair and beard...

...And finally, we have Dr. Tectonic's dashing "rainbow warrior"... he's proud and out -- to kick your ass!

They're all great designs, in different ways. I'm going to have a tough time deciding on one! I'd better do it quick, though, because I want to look cool for my Brigadier Blockade Blowout Event on Rimbor today! (Everything must go! All sales are final! No "window shopping" allowed! I'm serious! Don't make me mess you up!)

How I dress is especially important now that I have to look for a new job. And I don't even know what I want to apply for! Say, maybe the costume I choose will inspire me! Well, no matter what I decide to do, at least I know I'll look cool doin' it...

Extreme Blockadeover: Phillip Ginder, Part Two

Phillip sent me a late entry, but since I'm not a total hard-ass I'm considering it anyway.

Phillip writes:

It's late, and I can't draw with a mouse (or a pencil, or a pen...) but here you go. The gloves might be a little too floppy, maybe. This is pretty much what I was thinking of, but now that I see it it looks... well, gay. In my mind it was butcher, somehow. I think I might have to re-evaluate my own wardrobe, now...

Aw...! I'm the one who might be wearing it, so I'll decide if it's not butch enough, Phillip.

Yeah, that's not butch enough.

I think the problem might be that there's too much crenelation. (Isn't that always the way--?) And maybe it's the scale of it, but it looks delicate, like a bric-a-brac trim from some grandma-infested fabric store.

I'll take, oh, around 30% of the responsibility for it not looking butch enough, though, because of the way I drew that blank form... I mean, the cocked hip, the eye-rolling... I might as well have drawn in a big speech balloon that said "HEL-LOOOO!!!" That's what I get for having Storm Boy model for me!

Extreme Chamber of Blockadeover Horrors

I'm working on those redesigns for some of the female characters in "So Super Duper" and I'll post 'em either tonight or tomorrow. Right now, I have a terrifying e-mail to share with you all, from my most prolific commenter, "Anonymous."

Yes, the guy who comments (and therefore loves) me most is Anonymous. Sorry, MaGnUs, but this guy's got you beat. Not only does he comment multiple times on the same post, but he even adopts different "voices", conflicting opinions, and on occasion even signs his Anonymous posts with the names of different people. I don't know where he finds the time!

This morning I received a message from the gentleman behind the Anonymous mask. Yup, now I know his real name! I made a solemn promise to never reveal it, though... and that's just as well, since the abomination I'm about to show you might inspire some of my more rabid fans to hunt him down with a torch and a pitchfork, like in an old Frankenstein movie. Rest assured, dear readers, this revolting abortion of high-tech fabric and otherworldly technology was instantly banned from the now-legendary "maybe" pile the nanosecond I laid eyes upon it, and I shall do everything in my power to keep it from coming to pass in my own universe.

Now, steel yourselves, my friends... for THIS!

*ULP*... *HORK*... Hang on... *wipes dribble of vomit from corner of mouth*

Okay, I feel a little better now. How's everyone holding up? Anybody faint? They did? Crap. Somebody grab the smelling salts. ...We good to go now? Okay.

Anonymous has a blood curdling tale to accompany this nightmarish costume design:

So, it's like 5am here, and there's a knock at the door. I stumble across the place in my footie pajamas, wiping my eyes and hoping it's another supermodel with a flat tire or millionaire looking for someplace safe to hide his cash. I open the door, and there's a horrific flash of color.

No, wait. It's just two jerks in loud costumes. This had better be damn good.

One, all in yellow and blue looks normal enough, except that his skin, eyes, hair, and goatee are all colored to match. The other is wearing what looks like a loincloth made of oranges and violets and has the worst skin condition I ever did see. Chalk-white. Maybe he's had a scare. Or maybe he's a zombie. There's a Native burial site just down...well, you don't want to hear about that.

The duo invite themselves in and the goateed guy starts making waffles.
Turns out I own a waffle iron. Hm.

Anyway, they start telling their story. Goatee is Barricade Brat of Earth-3, as it turns out, and he's been on a roadtrip with Bizarro-Blockade-Boy. Scanning wi-fi signals as they drove through my neighborhood, they caught me reading your blog and decided they want in.

Wow. These waffles are awful. But one of these guys is evil and the other is eating my television remote, so I'm humoring them as well as I can.

"We wish to help our Blockade Bro'," BBrat (so he insists I call him) explains. There was also talk about their own formerly robotic dingi, keeping them as souvenirs-slash-weapons, and...well, it was too early for that, especially with the waffles trying to make an escape, so I cut that talk short and tried to hurry them to the point.

"Me and Bratty-cade am designing costume," BBB shouts as I shoo him away from my cat. "Me am sad it am so ugly." Then there was a quick argument over whether the Bizarro conjugation of "beautiful" should be "ugly" in that context, but I'll spare you.

I present you with what they described, mostly because they're threatening to make me walk the plank, and I really don't want to find out how they'll force the issue. Alas, none of us can draw worth a damn, except Bizarro-Blockade-Boy, and he only wanted to make turkey pictures after tracing our hands. And my laptop doesn't have any actual artsy software, so it was all in Microsoft Paint based on the template you provided.

Ready? Take a deep breath, because we're going in.

BBrat insisted on maintaining the classic colors, even though it made coloring the skin impossible with a palette of sixteen colors. Red and silver might have made better options, but I was overruled. By which I mean I was smacked in the head with a begonia. I don't remember owning one of those either, by the way. In any case, your hair in this scenario is dyed to orange (or silver--ouch!), and has very light muttonchops (or are those sideburns?) that sculpt up at the ends. For subtle contrast, there's also a soulpatch dyed purple. These are supposed to be a shade or two darker than the costume colors. Oh, and there's a Superboy-like spit-curl, which appears to balance out the other (facial hair) features.

The costume itself is all one piece, though a complex piece. From the capeless collar, we spread across your upper back to the sleeves. Sure, this reduces the frequency of backrubs, and sure, it's sort of an atrocity. But we're not done, yet.

"To get anywhere in life, you have to break all the rules." BBrat has a point, I guess, even if he's the worst chef ever. "He doesn't like long sleeves and bare legs? He'll change his mind when his costume is ONLY long sleeves and bare legs!" No matter how much he twirls his moustache, I'm thinking no, he/you won't. But there it is. From the collar, we go into the sleeves. They're voluminous sleeves, though it's unclear in the picture. Baggy sleeves out of Golden Age Quality Comics.
I talked them down from making it sheer, at least. The seams are done up in orange piping that gets all twisty, attach at the...I'll call it a belt for now, and then--I swear they wanted it this way, and it wasn't my idea, the damn things flow into the toes of the boots! The piping becomes the soles, and then there's another pipe across the boot rim.

BBrat said something about "liquid fabric" to explain why you weren't going to trip over them. BBB held onto a boa made of violets and made flapping motions when he tried to explain it.

The sleeves are held together in front by a tasteful (so they tell me) gold chain.

Oh, the belt? That's a super-high-tech anti-gravity apparatus, they tell me. It has kilt-like qualities, so you can feel free to wear what you like beneath, without violating the Comics Code. But it's also a holographic billboard that lets you strobe messages as you see fit.
Fighting in a library and can't banter with your foes? Program in "you're about to be Blockaded!" and make your feelings and wit known.

And there's a bench around the insite for Cootie to sit. There's also a mechanism to retract any surplus sleeve that's in your way, and feed it out when there's not enough. Oh, and there is plenty of space in case you need to carry weapons or tools with you.

Things I think I should draw your attention to, in case they're unclear given the artistic tools at hand, include the recurring "BB" motif. The pendant dangling from the chain is a gold mirroring of an Interlac B, of course. The cut-outs extending from the sleeve (following your collarbone along the top) likewise resemble the Interlac letter. We would also trim your soul patch to a simplified version of that shape, one stem, where it looks more like a 20th century T. Finally, when you stretch out your arms, the mega-sleeves will hang much as your current BB symbol does. Or not so finally. That's a pinky ring on your left hand. Gold-colored Legion flight ring, with amethyst flakes in your classic insignia. You can punch people and leave it on their foreheads like Pulp vigilantes did.

Similarly, while not to the extent that others have tried, the tops of the boots are intended to very subtly evoke tower crenelations.

Lastly, I'm asked to tell you that the belt/kilt gadget "am Bizarro-belly-shirt."

Be grateful. I talked them out of swapping the colors on one sleeve.
BBB hate asymmetry.

I'm sorry you had to go through that, Anonymous. If I ever run into these two, I'll give 'em each a punch in the 'nads on your behalf.

Extreme Blockadeover: Dr. Tectonic, Part Two

My "Extreme Blockadeover" contest ends tonight at midnight, so don't put it off any longer! Stop being tormented by the alluringly handsome image of me that haunts your every waking hour... scribble it down and e-mail it to me, before you lose your goddamn mind!

They say you always remember your first... contestant, so I was pleased as punch to get a revised costume design from none other than Dr. Tectonic! I've got fashion fever and the only prescription is a new outfit! What do you prescribe, Dr.?

Okay, you got one more out of me. Seeing what worked and didn't work for everyone else was very educational, so I decided to give it one last try. Especially since everyone has now learned the word "crenellations"!

Even reduced to a headband, the hat really wasn't working, so away it went. Kept the gloves and boots, of course, and the knee-guards; why not? The facial hair is a little exotic, but I think it's handsome. I wasn't really expecting the shirt to do what it did -- it just kinda happened -- but I'm pretty pleased with it.

And of course, you needed A CAPE because they are awesome. It looks a little dorky in the picture because I had to position a fan to blow on it so you could see the shape; the natural drape of the fabric is normally much better. Please note that I steadfastly resisted temptation and did NOT give you little round tower-tops epaulets for the attachment points. The cape is held on with buckles like the ones on the boots and gloves.

You also might not be able to see the waistline of the pants very well because THE MODEL'S HANDS ARE IN THE WAY, HELLO! It's the crenellation motif again.

Please note also that the only offensive capability you have here is your natural charm, so make sure you only go up against foes who might be, y'know, into you if you use the old masculine wiles; fortunately, in this outfit, that should work pretty well.

You forget, Dr. Tectonic, that the guys who aren't "into me" (and technically I'm "into" them, a-thank you very much) are scared shitless by my raw masculinity so I can work the hero thing from that angle as well. But that's a minor quibble. Let's see what you came up with!

I wasn't totally sure about this one, but then I realized I could drape the cape over my shoulders like you kind-of suggested, and that gave it the color balance it needed. And now I really love this design! Plus, the hair is bangin'. It's a sleek, smart costume all the way around.

Good work, buddy! This is one for the "maybe" pile!

There's Still Time to Enter!

So send me a costume design already! The deadline slams down like a steel wall at midnight tomorrow night, Central Standard Time. That's more than enough time to knock together something to knock my socks (or pants) off! My "maybe" pile is burgeoning with the potent imaginings of my readers, and they're all so good I still can't pick out a clear front-runner. Will the design you send me wind up on top of the heap? There's only one way to find out! So send me sumpin' before it's too late!

In the meantime, I wanted to share a new drawing sent to me by Jonathan Munroe -- it shows me dressed in the design he submitted, minus the aviator's helmet.

Jonathan writes:

Just because I had some extra time at work, as well as to show you what the hair looks like. Surprise! It's just as you imagined.

Here you are at the futuristic wheel of the Exquisite , shouting "Charge!" or "Arrrrrrrr!" or "Pulsar Stargraaaaaaaaaaaaave!" as you barrel through the void.

Or maybe even "Janet Pyyyyyyymmmmmmmmm!!!"

Well, I thought it was funny, anyway. And what are the odds the hairstyle looks just like I'd guessed it would? Maybe I'm part-Naltorian!

Oh, and my post about forcibly undressing Tusker has some of my readers concerned over my treatment of the big lummox, so I might as well clarify: Tusker's a great guy -- loyal like a bulldog, he is -- but if he's going to survive out here in the wilds of space he's going to have to toughen the eff up. So I sometimes find myself having to act like a really sexy drill sergeant around him. I'll get 'im there. And anyway, he knew when he signed on with me that when I tell a man to take his pants off, he'd better goddamn well take his pants off or I'll do it for him.

Hell, I even put that part in the classified ad!

Extreme Blockadeover: Phillip Ginder

Phillip Ginder sent in a quartet of designs (okay, technically it was a trio) that show off my awe-inspiring pelt to full advantage. Take it away, Phil!

Okay, I keep seeing all these costume designs on your blog, so I said, "What the hell!".

Haw!

The first two are the same with different backgrounds. Pretty simple stuff, big tough boots paired with lots of hairy flesh is a look I thought you might enjoy. I was inspired to do these by Lydean Kind's "belly shirt" design, actually. I liked the crenelations on the bottom of the shirt but not the shirt itself. What I was trying to get at with these designs was sort of the "inverse" of that; covered belly, exposed pecs, + crenelation. My artistic skills leave much to be desired and HeroMachine wasn't giving me what I wanted so it ended up as these sorta Captain America stripes.

(I decided to only show one of the first two designs he sent in, since the background was the only difference between them.)

Interesting, but the equal distribution of orange and purple makes my eyeballs itch. Also, I'm not really sure what's going on with the orange highlights on the purple shorts and boots. Is it supposed to be iridescent, kind of?

The third & fourth pics have matching gloves & belt if that sort of thing is important to you. I personally like the shorter gloves.

I dunno... the main part of the costume is so close to looking like a girdle anyway that it almost needs the bigger gloves to distract from it. Hmm.

The fourth pic is a little closer thanks to MSPaint, but really I don't like the stripes too much. I'll try and refine it and send you another one, but I think you get the idea. (Imagine solid orange w/ purple crenelation.)

This is better (and I'm looking forward to your revision) because the crenelation makes for a more interesting silhouette. Exactly how would the crenelation be purple? Would it be like a thick outline, maybe? Because the stripes/bars just ain't workin' for me. Anything else you'd like to add, Phil?

Oh yeah, the hair! The hair & beard is based on my own because I have no imagination. I actually have about 1/8th of an inch of hair on my head 'cause fully bald looks kinda crappy with my skull, but obviously you don't have that problem.:) My beard pretty much looks like this but it isn't orange.

Hope you like the designs!

-Phill (aka devojane, aka devophill)

The beard is great, and of course a dude with a beard like that would have an ever-present cigar. (Even Peter David's Aquaman had a cigar, but he could never smoke it because, y'know... he was underwater.)

I'll have to pass on this batch -- reluctantly -- but it sounds like your upcoming revision has a lot of potential.

Extreme Blockadeover: Nicolas M., Part Two

Nico was nice enough to send me a revision of his original costume design, based on my comments!

Instead of working on the many, many things I needed to get accomplished tonight, I played a little bit with the costume design keeping your advice in mind.
I got rid of the flash of bare leg because I decided that shorts would look silly with boots that high, and I wanted to keep the boots.

I couldn't decide on an appropriate logo, so I just used a simple star, cause your a star baby! (or maybe 'cause it's a pre-existing brush shape in photoshop elements and I am too tired to try for something freehand).

It's still a very simple looking design, but I like it. Thanks for having the contest. This has been fun.

Nice! I like this a whole lot better, Nico. The addition of a purple "imperial" soul patch in the middle of that close-cropped orange beard is a great little detail. And I see you managed to draw in the chest hair without a sink hole swallowing up your house or a flock of rabid canaries attacking you.

Congratulations! It's goin' in the "maybe" pile!

Legion of Substitute Costumes: Tusker (Revised)

When I designed Tusker's last costume, I was trying to "think outside the crotch" and devise a male costume that didn't rely on sex appeal for it's primary visual impact. In retrospect, I wound up creating a garish eyesore. So I scrapped that costume -- literally, by tearing it off a startled and terrified Tusker and tossing it into the atomic incinerator while he watched with big confused tears running down his cheeks. Then I patted him warmly on the shoulder and buttocks and explained I was making him a much better costume. That cheered him up, just a little.

Tusker had trouble working those thought-controlled automatic dental tools on his old duds because, well, he's rock-stupid... so I decided to go low-tech this go-round. I also wanted a more iconic look for him. Starting with the dentist angle, the image of a bloody smock appeared in my mind, and from there I imagined a leather apron like butchers (and serial killers) use, and I finally had a concept that combined the stylings of dentists, butchers, blacksmiths and Olde Tyme executioners:

The leather is crimson instead of boring old black or brown because it stands out more, and it looks good with Tusker's pinkish skin and carrot-hued hair. And as you can see, ol' Tusker has some new mouth bling goin' on! The last time I tried to get him to replace one of his tusks with a gold-plated version he balked at the last possible second. But after Weight Wizard kicked one o' those choppers clean out of his mouth he really had no choice in the matter. I think it makes him look pretty tough! The two dental pliers can be held by straps on his belt when he's not using them to de-fang an enemy. The beautiful silver of the tools is carried through on his costume by his chrome-plated "T" symbol and his steel-toed/heeled boots. I'm taking the whole crew out on the town when we land on Rimbor and I think this new look should net him a lot of hot sexy action! And if he's lucky, some of it might even be with women! (Heh, heh...)

Extreme Blockadeover: Lydean Kind

I've been collaborating with Storm Boy on my sales pitch for the Brigadier Blockade Blowout Event at Rimbor's black mega-market this Sunday, and I think it'll be pretty sweet. I just hope my voice is booming enough. (...Aw, who am I kiddin'? Like an elephant, I am!) I'm also fitting Tusker for his new costume, and he was nervous about showing more skin, but once I explained it would make him a "babe magnet" he showed a lot more enthusiasm. I even designed a sweet new symbol for him. It's graphic and clean, and it would even look right at home on the Legion mission board, y'know, if they ever... induct -- heh! Haw! HA HA HA oh GOD I can't even SAY it without laughing HA HA oh JESUS CHRIST! Oh! *wipes tears from eyes*

Meanwhile, I have another set of costume designs to peruse! Kick-ass! These are from "Silvercat", a.k.a. a young (?) lady (?) "named" "Lydean Kind" but as you know, I trust no one at this point when it comes to names. Some quick anagramming shows that the letters "Lydean Kind" can be rearranged into:

• "LinK and dye"... some kind of advertising ploy?
• "diaL Kenny d"... hang on, I'll try it. ...Nope, he never even heard about the costume contest. Or so he claims.
• "Lend any kiD"... holy cats, it's a creepy temporary adoption scheme! Probably for celebrities, who hoist the kids on their shoulders at photo-ops and then deposit the hapless tots behind a Taco Bell somewhere. Or maybe this is a savings-and-loan for toddlers.
• andy KindLe... which is one letter away from the name of one of my favorite stand-up comics, Andy Kindler.*

Y'know what? Maybe I'm just paranoid. Okay, forget it, "Lydean." Whatever your secret is, it's safe.

She writes:

I honestly can draw, but I'm tired and my hand hurts and I'm running out of paper, so you get modified HeroMachine stuff. Sorry.

I stuck with the classic purple and orange and they're all variations. I gave you dark purple with orange accents. Some chunky technological bracers and a belt to keep all your art supplies and stuff. I probably should've played some more, but, again, tired, hand hurts, so feel free to pick and choose (like you wouldn't anyway)

On the last one I tried to give a subtle crenelated effect to the mask. Otherwise, I think they speak for themselves.

So, yeah, I have no chance of winning and you're going to let the entire internet know I'm a lazy bastard (or would be if I was a guy). Oh well.

Hmm. Sounds interesting. Let's peruse her collection!

Not bad!

Sweet!

Yikes. No thanks, I don't do the belly shirt thing. And the mask stands out too much from the rest of the outfit.

But I love the second one! It's going in the "maybe" pile, in fact! It's classic with a twist -- the castle cut-out -- which really sets it apart. And there's just enough crenelation to make it distinctive without overwhelming the eye. And of course, the beard rawks. Good job, Lydean!

*In my opinion, one of the funniest jokes Andy Kindler ever did was this: "What I hate, is when a comedian bases a joke on an incorrect premise. Like this one comic, he starts his set with 'So I was in the store the other day and I see they're selling sugarless chocolate. Who's that for?' ...IT'S FOR DIABETICS, that's who it's for! Yeah, so I was in the hospital the other day, and I saw people getting injected with insulin, what's that all about? Who's that for?"

Extreme Blockadeover: Nicolas M.

The H.M.S. Exquisite has a new, turbo-charged, eight-gazillion-cylinder nuclear engine and I've set course for Rimbor and the galaxy's largest open-air black market! Once we arrive we'll try to sell everything we can before the U.P. can show up and take my pirate's license away.

I wish there was somebody on my crew who was missing enough body parts to qualify as a replacement but no. They're all just strutting around, showboating their non-amputated arms and legs, like they're trying to piss me off on purpose, goddammit. I'd volunteer for an operation myself if I wasn't planning on quitting the space pirate game anyway. I just wish I could keep some of the great stuff I've stolen -- like this great Imskian hairbrush set that I use for grooming my eyebrows. I'm morally opposed to guys "shaping" their eyebrows through hair removal but I do like to make sure they're nice and combed. Sometimes I "set" them with a little gel.

Which brings me in a roundabout way to the latest entry in my costume design contest! It's from Nicolas "Nico" M., who was faced with major interruptions -- like power blackouts and emergency phonecalls -- every time he attempted to delineate my chest hair! It's eerie. Clearly, some diabolical force was trying to prevent him from entering my contest. Weight Wizard's ghost, perhaps?

First, Nico sent me a "joke" entry, but it's so brilliant that I'm going to share it with you all anyway.

Gah! Scary! Nico explains:

Considering that I faced power outages and other distractions the first few times I tried to work on a costume, maybe it’s not odd that I finally ended up with an outfit not for you, but rather for your evil earth-3 (or whatever their calling it these days) counterpart Barricade Boy, the hairless wonder.

He originally used his power to turn into a moderately sized chain link fence to commit petty crimes, but these days he calls himself a hairstylist. Meaning that he mugs people and threatens to zap them with his depilatory laser unless they hand over their wallet.


Sorry, a real entry should be forthcoming.

I should hope so. Hell, you should hope so, because your nightmarish imagery caused one of my billions of beard hairs to turn white, and I'm a little pissed off at you right now. *yanks out white hair and grunts, manfully*

Now, this is more like it. And don't worry, I'm picturing it with a copious pelt in all the exposed areas, not just the calves.

OK, here’s a real costume. I suspect that it may be a bit too simple for your taste, but I wanted something that didn’t distract too much from your body. With luck, the cut of the arms and chest serve to emphasize your size. The flash of skin at your legs is there mainly cause I’m a bit of a leg man.

Aw, so close! I like the combination of the close-cropped hair and beard. The neckline is perfect. And I think the gradated colors are absolutely terrific. It's striking but it's not garish, because the colors are still predominantly solid. The boots are perfect, being a solid, darker color that doesn't compete with the rest of the outfit. However, I don't care for the high-water tights. Exposed calves are cool, but I think raising the hem to just over the knee would have worked a lot better. The way it is, it almost looks like regular pants that shrunk a little. Also, with the simple silhouette of the garment, it needs a logo somewhere to focus they eye. It doesn't have to be big. It could just be on my left man-breast, like a badge, or maybe on the waist, like a buckle (you know how I like to design those belt-less buckles.) As it stands, I'm going to have to pass on it.

From your LiveJournal I get the impression you don't have a lot of time to spare for something like this, so I really appreciate that you sent me these. If you want to revamp the last one a little, that'd be awesome... but I totally understand if you're too busy.

Thanks, pal!

Your Memories Have Just Been Sold

Your corrupt, ramshackle 21st Century press machine has at last seen fit to publish an article on yours truly, in this month's issue of "Instinct." Go buy a copy, or I'll know, somehow. Go on. Right now! Git! I don't care if you're in Uruguay or whatever. Get your ass on a plane and fly someplace th' dang magazine is available! It's your blogtriotic duty.

Okay, fine. Here's a big image of the blurb.

Crybabies.

The writing's okay, I suppose, but I wish people would stop attributing my blog to Jeremy Rizza. Okay, so I crashed at his old pad for a year-and-a-half and he let me use his computer, and I'm still accessing it now, from my glorious future world that you filthy Neanderthals couldn't even begin to comprehend, but that doesn't make him the blog's "author." Why is that so hard for everybody to understand?

I don't really like that picture they used of me, either. That one's from a few months ago, when I was messing around with a re-design of one of my older costumes, just to see if I wanted to cover up my cyborg legs. I decided against it. And my eyes look crazy. Probably from staying up for a solid week working on the damn thing, with only coffee and Weight Wizard's travel-sized hotness to keep me going.

Also, no way, no how am I "bitchy." Storm Boy is bitchy. When you're as big and hairy and as reeking of testosterone (and certain other intoxicating aromas) as I am, you're "gruff" or "saturnine" or "a harsh taskmaster" and that's that.

"...even more bitchily than Mr. Blackwell." Damn it...

Spectrevision

Who needs televangelists when you can just speak directly to the Lord himself via whatever gizmo Mister Kline has? ("Are you there, Kline? It's Me, God!") Just try not to piss Him off.

Mister Kline: ...and before I sign off for today, could You maybe do something about this thing on my foot? *hoists foot onto uncluttered desk, pulls off shoe and sock*

God: Suppose you tell Me what I'm supposed to be looking at, exactly--?

Mr. Kline: That white spot... I think it's a Plantar's wart?

God: So? Go down to the corner drugstore and pick up some of that remover.

Mr. Kline: Well... I mean, You're right here, couldn't You just heal it for me?

God: Ugh. Stop wasting My time. I was going to give you a chance to repent for all the terrorism business, but you know what? This is the last straw. You're going straight to hell.

Mr. Kline *panicked*: But, I--!

God: Peace out!

[The shimmering image evaporates, leaving Mr. Kline in total darkness.]

Jagged Edge Explosion Balloon!

After those one-and-a-half pages of rousing action, we're gonna take a breather while Mister Kline tries to set the alarm on his clock radio.

Listen... I wanna get "real" with you now. Can we "rap"? We can? Good. Thank you.

Over the course of gouging a ragged, bloody hole in this comic's neck and shitting down its windpipe examining this comic, I've grown to enjoy the figurework of George Tuska. His looming, lumbering characters have a warmth somehow lacking in the work of the similarly-styled Don Heck. (Heck's characters tend to have odd, leering, Pan-like faces that make them look like they've endured some seriously botched rounds of plastic surgery.) Sure, Tuska's characters tend more toward the "beetle-browed and oafish" end of the spectrum, but here it's softened by the exquisite inking of Jim Mooney. I just wish that Tuska's backgrounds just once would have had anything at all to do with his figurework. Take this panel. It's as dramatic as any "turning that one knob" panel could every hope to be, and Mr. Kline's immaculately-manicured hand is rendered beautifully. And yet the background is practically a collage. What is all that crap piled up back there? I see a picture frame (not sure there's anything in it), a scrap of wicker, a windowsill air conditioner, a two-by-four... just where th' heck is he? May I expect Fred Sanford to wander in at any moment? ("Kline, you dummy--!") And are all those hundreds of lines radiating from that magenta lightbulb or blister or everlasting gobstopper or what-have-you meant to indicate that it's glowing or just really anxious? (Performance anxiety!)

Oh, and mister letterer guy? Artie? I'm pretty sure a caption about a guy turning a knob doesn't merit the Jagged Edge Explosion Balloon. (My new rock band!) I'm just sayin'.

And Now, the Crustacean You've All Been Waiting For

Y'know, I was going to break this sequence down into individual panels, but as you can see, George Tuska (pencils) and Artie Simek (lettering) made it damn near impossible. So screw it. And heck, it is the book's climax, and as I used to say to my dates, "I might as well show it to you in all its uncut glory."

• The very idea of Demitrius lends itself well to the kind of surreal, almost dadaist fun that superhero comics can do so well. Unfortunately, it's all weighted down by mounds of soggy, pretentious "Marvel Method" prose. Blech.
• "Creature"? "Transformed non-man"? Sure, a guy sprouts a couple of cranial lobster arms and suddenly he's a monster. Would you have used those words if you'd written the comic where Abra Kadabra turned the Flash into a marionette, Young Gerry Conway? I should think not. Young Gerry Conway is unfair to mutated proto-Serbs!
• [Setting: the interior of a brownstone in Hackensack. The Del Pieros, a retired couple, are having coffee in their dining room when someone rings the doorbell.]
  
  Mrs. Del Piero: I'll get it, honey. [She opens the door and sees a twenty-foot-tall man in green coveralls, with lobster-clawed arms protruding from his skull.] Yes...? Oh! You must be the new delivery guy my neighbor Mrs. Totti mentioned... Demitrius, is it?"
  
  UPS guy: Yea... I am Demitrius -- and I bring DEATH! [He presents her with a small cardboard box.]
  
  Mrs. Del Piero: Death? For me? But I didn't send away for any death.
  
  [Demitrius is busy punching buttons on his electronic clipboard, but acknowledges her with a shrug.]
  
  Mrs. Del Piero [calling to husband]: Honey? Did you order my death?
  
  Mr. Del Piero [raises coffee mug cheerfully]: Not today, honey! But don't tempt me!
  
  [They both chuckle at this.]
  
  Demitrius [presents her with the clipboard and his stylus]: Just sign here, and here, and here.
  
  Mrs. Del Piero [hesitates]: I don't know if I'm-- I mean, could I send this back? If it's no trouble? It's just that I not ready for death.
  
  Mr. Del Piero: Who's it from?
  
  Mrs. Del Piero: Hang on, I'm talking to the delivery guy!
  
  Mr. Del Piero [louder]: What...? Who's it from? Who sent it to you?
  
  Mrs. Del Piero [frustrated]: How should I know?!
  
  Mr. Del Piero: Well, it's got a shipping label, don't it?
  
  Mrs. Del Piero: Oh, for--! Fine! [she examines the box] Oh! It's from my sister!
  
  Mr. Del Piero: WHAT...?!!
  
  Mrs. Del Piero [hollers]: IT'S FROM MY SISTER! [to herself] I suppose I can't send this back to her...
  
  [She reluctantly signs the form, and Demitrius departs. She carries the little box into the dining room and sits back down with her husband.]
  
  Mr. Del Piero: Well? Aren't you gonna open it?
  
  Mrs. Del Piero: Oh, I'd rather not. I guess I'll just put it away somewhere.
  
  Mr. Del Piero: Like where?
  
  Mrs. Del Piero: I thought maybe in the -- [catches herself, smiles, and wags her finger at him] Oh! You're a very naughty boy!
  
  Mr. Del Piero: Almost got you! [grins, takes a sip of coffee] So what are you gonna tell your sister when she calls and asks how you like your death?
  
  Mrs. Del Piero: I'll just lie and tell her it's wonderful.
  
  Mr. Del Piero: Ah, so it'll be just like our wedding night! [then, wistfully] ...Y'know, I probably will kill you someday.
  
  Mrs. Del Piero: Get in line, darling.
  
  [They both laugh.]
  
  [Fade out.]
• Reading the captions, I have to wonder if Young Gerry Conway ever intended for Demitrius to be drawn with lobster-clawed cranial appendages in the first goddamn place. He talks about fire and lightning bursting from Demitrius's brain and grabbing Iron Man, not some kooky monster arms. I'm guessing he had pictured some kinda Kirby-kracklin' energy spewing out from a bloated noggin and not the Golden Age-styled nonsense Tuska wound up drawing. The sad part is, the story's better for Tuska's "mistake."
• Demitrius to Slasher: "And that is why you are the tool--!" Preach it, brother!
• "Mister Kline!" Ugh. Once again, this limpest of villain names ruins a perfectly good melodramatic pronouncement. It would have been exponentially cooler if Demitrius had said "Doctor Doom!" or "Kang the Conqueror!" or hell, even "Zarrko the Tomorrow Man!" Anything but "Mister Kline!"
• George Tuska's groundhog-like fear of delineating shadows makes it easy to pretend that in that largest panel, Demitrius hasn't quadrupled in size after all, but has merely leapfrogged over Iron Man, into the foreground. And as we all know, Demitrius is fond of leaping.
• Are your appetites whetted for a balls-out battle between Iron Man and Demitrius? They are? Well, too damn bad, because Young Gerry Conway thought the next panels would be best put to use looking in on Mr. Kline and his "uncluttered desk." Heh.

L'il Gerry Conway and the Eastside Boyz

Why yes, it is "KRUNK", isn't it?

Slasher really isn't into the whole "banter" thing. Mainly because it takes time away from his soliloquizing. (This just in: sources report that Slasher was wedded to the sound of his own voice this past weekend, in a grim Socialist ceremony in the crater of a smoking volcano.) Check it: in the second panel, Iron Man turns Slasher's attempted filibustering into a charming bit of overlapping dialog that wouldn't sound out-of-place in "The Philadelphia Story." Take that, "Fingers"!

Extreme Blockadeover: MaGnUs, Part Four

The H.M.S. Exquisite has docked at an out-of-the-way planetoid for repairs. Since the Exquisite is a pirate spaceship I had to take the old girl to a skeezy chop-shop establishment. They're replacing the melted nuclear engine with one they "reclaimed" from a fancy U.P. battle cruiser. Already I can hear the mechanics whispering shit like "That's the famous Brigadier Blockade? I thought he was a cyborg!" and "He's got all his body parts! What's up with that? You can't be a pirate if you still got all your arms and legs!" and "The U.P.'s gonna take back his pirate's license for sure!" and (of course) "Now that's what I call a man! Do you think he'd roger me in the grease pit if I asked real nice?" (I get that last one all the time.) But yeah, word that I'm no longer officially qualified to be a pirate is going to spread pretty fast now. And I'd threaten these guys to keep 'em quiet but it sounds like they're into that. Which is fine, I don't even want to be a pirate anymore (so there!) but if the U.P. catches up to me before I've had a chance to unload my booty (so to speak) they're going to confiscate it all! So I've got to get the Exquisite up and running and off to someplace I can make a helluva deal for all my legally-stolen merchandise.

In the meantime, I've got some more mail! From MaGnUs! And he says...

So, here goes my last batch

Sure it is, buddy. Sure it is...! *thunderous-yet-congenial laughter*

This is the x-costume again, with less skin showing, and less of a gimpy feel to it. I dropped the cowl, but left the goggles, and kept the huge-ass X on the chest, as well as the textured gloves. Black bodysuit, and a belt only as a fashion accesory (like Rogue used to wear); with multi-buckled boots to match. I don't expect you to put this one on the maybe pile, but I just wanted to show you the redesign.

Well, tough shit because I am putting it on the "maybe" pile.

Just for shit and giggles: Detective Blockade goes to Reboot Era and has mutiple pouches to hold all the bullets he needs to kill people who call themselves stuff like "Apparition", "Live Wire" or "Inferno".

Heh. Cute. It's a non-starter for me, of course, because of the gray temples (which don't exactly go with "Boy") and the generic costume. Also, I kind of miss the cigar. Even though I'm more of a pipe man myself. Oh well.

Professor Blockade: Mad scientist get up, again, just for fun. Absent-minded mad scientist.

I know, but I decided to post this anyway. Because I really like the goggles, the bald head, and (especially) the walrus mustache. Koo-koo-katchoo, motherfuckers! The bow tie is a nice touch as well. Y'know, it's a shame this is mostly street clothes, or else I'd consider it for the "maybe" pile.

Kung-Fu Blockade: Just a regular kung-fu fighter outfit, with the sunglasses to give it a modern touch, and of course, a black belt.

Wow! No, thank you. Although I like the idea of showing my big, ape-like feet to all the world. On the few occasions I've walked around barefoot in public, I'd see strangers glance down at my feet and get these ridiculous scrunched-up "disgusted" faces, so then of course I had to pin them up against a wall -- with one of my feet -- and say "You know what your problem is? You just can handle how fabulous my feet are!" (Yes, I sometimes paraphrase dialog from the Whitney Houston version of "Cinderella.") And then I pimp-slap them a couple of times. With my feet.

There, won't torture you again with my designs

Oh! Well, I'm glad we've come to some sort of an understanding...

unless I get new ideas...

D'oh!

So Super Duper

Brian Andersen's "So Super Duper" is a fun, frenetic little comic about a motor-mouthed and deeply closeted twink, and his travails as the least-powerful member of a rather bitchy JLA-type team called "the Amazin'naughts." Andersen's artwork is cartoon-styled (it reminded me a lot of DC's old "Angel Love" comic) but his character's faces and poses are so expressive that there's never any doubt as to what's happening in a panel. Also, some of the costumes are so well-designed that I wanted to try my hand at depicting them in a slightly more realistic style.

Here's the star of "So Super Duper", the empathic (and that's it) Psyche. He often strikes these kinds of melodramatic poses in the midst of all his swanning about. To bring a sense of that into my own drawing, I based his posture on a photo of a cheerleader. A teenage, female cheerleader.

One of the many other superheroes to be found in "So Super Duper" is Comet, who is also in denial about his sexuality, and who seems to have a little crush on Psyche. Comet is one of the few genuinely sweet characters in the book. (Seriously, poor Psyche is just surrounded by jerks, the poor guy. Let's hope these two crazy kids manage to hook up!) This is my favorite out of all of Andersen's character designs. The icing on the cake? Comet and his twin sister Star have matching cheek-moles. Adorable!

Remember those jerks I mentioned? Here's one of 'em! ...Okay, so he hasn't had much panel time -- in fact, I have no idea what his boots look like so I just mimicked the style of his gloves -- but he seemed pretty snide to me. And it wasn't even anything he said! I guess it's just his face. Which is par for the course, since he has fire powers. Heck, I can't think of any heroes with fire powers who had gently-arching Joel Hodgson eyebrows. There must be some kind of genetic link between pyrokinetics and angry-looking Romulan eyebrows (with red hair).

There are also a lot of female superheroes in "So Super Duper" but to be honest, most of their outfits either veer perilously close to Hoochie Mama Territory or just flat-out plunge right into it, off a cliff, like Thelma and Louise. But then, Brian told me he wouldn't mind me posting some costume redesigns for his characters, so... I'll work on some for next week!

Just Six More Panels 'Til Lobstertime

Luckily for Slasher, Iron Man is only in the first stage of drunkenness: the "light-hearted, irreverent life-of-the-party" stage. (That's the stage Dean Martin hovered around for most of his benighted existence.) Things might've gone a lot worse if Iron Man had chanced upon them in one of his other five stages of drunkenness. (Depending on the intelligence of the individual, one can experience up to ten distinct stages of drunkenness. Brainiac 5 is rumored to go through thirty-eight stages of drunkenness, Storm Boy has nine stages and Tusker has one-half.) I ran a computer simulation, and here are stages two through six of Iron Man's drunkenness:

Stage Two Drunkenness: "The Benefactor"

Iron Man: Hey! Hey, guys! What's up, buddies?

Slasher: You! Stand back! I'll use my eyes--!

Iron Man [picks up the transmitter, vigorously shakes it]: This broke or sumpin'? Don't worry, I can totally fix it for you. Didja know, did I ever tell you before, I gots my own technology company? I think. I'm like a total expert on these things. Say, what's this do? [presses sequence of buttons]

Slasher: Don't touch that, you fool--!

[They're all vaporized by a small nuclear explosion]

Stage Three Drunkenness: "The Lothario"

Iron Man: Well, hello there, flyboy! I got iron in my pants and I want to dance!

Slasher: You!

Iron Man [seizes Slasher and does wild "Lindy hop" with him around the alley, swinging his body around like a rag doll]: You like polka dots baby? 'Cause I know who I'd like to "polka"...

Slasher: Let go of me, you fool!

Iron Man: Hang on, gorgeous, this next move's a little tricky...

[He tosses Slasher in the air but is distracted by a shiny new nickel and forgets to catch him. Slasher lands on the transmitter, setting off a small nuclear explosion.]

Stage Four Drunkenness: "The Patriotic Homophobe"

Iron Man: Two guys in an alley... in matching jumpsuits?! Aw, hells no.

Slasher: You!

Iron Man: What the fuck kind of accent is that? What're you, a Russkie? Zero tolerance, motherfucker! [He incinerates both Slasher and Demitrius while chanting "U.S.A., U.S.A., U.S.A.--!"]

Stage Five Drunkenness: "The Bitter A-hole" (note: this is often indistinguishable from Stage Four)

Iron Man: Goddamn it, now what? I suppose I gotta fly down there now and "do something"... Christ, why does it always have to be me?

Slasher: You!

Iron Man: Yeah, "me." It's always goddamn "me", goddamn it! D.C.'s a big town; why can't they get their own goddman superhero? Huh? Answer me that!

Slasher: I must use... my eyes! [He fires laser beams at Iron Man, creating a couple of small, smoking pock-marks in his chestplate]

Iron Man [looks down at damaged chestplate, sighs]: Oh, that tears it.

Slasher: You'll never take us into police custody! So swears the--

Iron Man: Yeah, you got that shit right. [He incinerates Slasher and Demitrius. Then he stands there for a while, looking warily around at the depressing alleyway, at the Capital Building in the distance, and at the moist Washington sky.] Aw, what's the goddamn point? [He twists one of his hip-frisbees a few degrees, setting off a small nuclear explosion]

Stage Six Drunkenness: "The Vegetative Stagesman" (reserved and dignified, yet barely conscious, prone to propping self up in large chairs and occasionally waving or nodding to people)

Slasher: It's Iron Man! And he's headed right for us! Stand back, you fool! He's raised his arm and is going to use his repulsor beams! I must wait until he gets within range of... my eyes! ...He's not firing his repulsor beams! He-- he seems to be... giving us a "thumbs-up"?! He's not slowing down! Run, Demitrius! He's about to--[Iron Man plows into the alleyway, setting off a small nuclear explosion]

Have All My Friends Had Fun at Play?

...Aaaannnd now you know why Demitrius was never hired as host of the DC-area "Romper Room." *points to Storm Boy, who obligingly plays "flashback glissando" on re-rebuilt Electric Sousasaxotimpanibone*

Director: I gotta say, you are acing this audition, Demitrius!

Demitrius: Bolshoi spasibo, tovarisch-- er, um, I mean, thanks.

Director: Let's just skip to then end, then... that'd be the top of page five in your script. And you can just improv the children's names... feel free to "riff" here.

Demitrius [nods, excitedly flips through script]: Romper, bomper, stomper, boo. Tell me, tell me, tell me, do. Magic mirror, tell me today, have all my friends had fun at play? ...I can see Mike, and Skip, and Farrah, and Jon, and... Guss, and, and Maggie, and Phil, I, I can see so many children, oh God! Head... pounding...!

Director: Whoa! You okay there, buddy?

Demitrius [hyperventilating, trembling]: ...And Phil, and Jen, and Aaron! Jayson! Dorian! Sweet Lord, Slasher, their names--!!!

Director [looks around at otherwise empty room]: "Slasher"? Who the hell--?

Demitrius: I can't hold it in any longer!

Director: Oh, uh, if you need to take a bathroom break, that's cool, we can just--

Demitrius: The change... starting!!! [His forehead bulges and bubbles like some guy from "Scanners" and then two prehensile lobster-clawed arms pop out] GRRRRRAAAAAAARRRRGGGGHHHH!!! MUST... DESTROY...

Director [calmly picks up telephone and punches a button]: Sally, please send in the next applicant... oh, and get the police on the line, would you? Thanks.

I.M. So Glad We Had This Time Together

Much as Carol Burnett used to secretly give a "shout out" to her grandmother by tugging on her ear, Iron Man likes to acknowledge various bystanders he's bedded with a similar gesture. Many a lass (and lad!) has spotted Iron Man weaving tipsily through the troposphere and wondered, "Does he recall that glorious night we spent in (Palm Springs/Omaha/the Motel 6/that abandoned rendering plant/a fugue state)?" And then they see Iron Man giving the "signal" (even as his metal faceplate remains infuriatingly sphinx-like). Their spirits soar, the sun seems to shine a little more brightly, and their day seems suddenly rich with promise. With beaming smiles, they return the signal... and then they see (on average) eight other people, from all walks of life, smiling up at Iron Man and doing the exact same thing.

Extreme Blockadeover: Justin Garrett Blum

This next submission just materialized in the air right in front of me and hung there, floating, while I was in the middle of my morning ablutions. Tusker was so startled he dropped the scrub brush and threw himself back against the nearest wall. His big, dopey head whipped around. "Are we under attack?" he cried. I, of course, didn't even raise a bushy eyebrow. One of my sinewy arms shot out (The speed of a python, I have!) and grabbed it.

I sniffed at the envelope, paused, taking in the scent, and then I ran my nose all over it, inhaling the odor greedily with loud snorfling noises. I waved the letter at Tusker. "Magic," I said with a grim smile. "I'd recognize it anywhere."

"Plus it just appeared out of the blue and it was floating," Tusker pointed out, so of course I had to pummel him for making me look uncool. But I only slapped him around a little, because I'm always in a good mood when somebody sends me a costume design! This one is from Justin Garrett Blum, who starts out with some wholly unnecessary damage control:

Dear Blockade Boy,

Okay, before you view the image, I plead with you to bear with me just a minute. First of all, my apologies for the crappy scan and coloring job. I penciled the image pretty small and then to make it worse, I went over it with a fine-tip sharpie, which bled, so I lost some of the detail, and I couldn’t quite get the detail I wanted in any case, even in pencil. Also, I have a feeling you’re probably going to tear me a new asshole anyway, so I didn’t want to spend a whole night on it or anything. J

The one thing I wish I could go back and do over (but I’m too lazy to) is the face. I was attempting to give you sort of an ursine characteristic with the big, round beard, but I’m afraid that with the scale I was working at, I couldn’t pull it off. Also, I have no idea how to computer color somebody with so much hair. You came out looking sort of like Tygra from Thundercats. Not really bad, just not what I was really going for. But hopefully you get the idea.

Right then, apologies out of the way…

I really only had one goal with this design—and that was to keep it as simple as possible, but without sacrificing style. When I first started reading your blog over a year ago, one of the first posts I read was something you did about Doctor Strange’s kick ass robe. I remembered that—because I thought that robe was the bees knees, as well—so I knew going in that I wanted to give you something floor length and stylin’. At the same time, I wanted your outfit to be as stripped down as possible—literally. I mean, what’s the point of having all that body hair if you can’t show it off, right? With that in mind, I thought, “Let’s see, Blockade Boy is a pirate, and pirates are rough, but at the same time, he’s also a dandy.” I had to merge those two sensibilities somehow.

Then I hit upon it. The Romans. Kick ass mofos, no doubt, but also one of the most indulgent societies to ever exist. Then I was like, “What would a hard-core Roman look like if he were actually a gay fashion designer pirate from the far future?” And, well, this is what I came up with.

Here’s what I like about it: nobody’s going to mess with a dude dressed like this. You know why? Because if a person dresses like this, he’s got to have some serious balls—figuratively and literally.

Anyway, just keep an open mind. That’s all I ask. See, I even let one of your nipples peak out and everything!


Regards,

Justin

Justin, don't worry about the technical quality of your artwork. As long as it gets the basic idea across, I'm cool with it. And that's also why I decided to allow folks to elaborate on their designs with their letters. I should be able to get the gist of what you're trying to sell me with some simple artwork and a paragraph or two. Okay... *breathes deeply* ...Let's take a look at this puppy!

I have just two words for you, Justin: Kick. Ass.

What I especially love about this design is the balance of contrasts. The huge theatrical cape is juxtaposed with the daintier briefs and accessories, and the flamboyance of the costume is set against an animalistic beard and hairstyle (and, of course, my brawny, furry bod). Well done, lad. This one's headed for the finals!

Extreme Blockadeover: Ed Novak

Ah, another missive for me from the 21st Century! This one is from an "Ed Novak" but after that "Loren Lassiter" business (I'm still not convinced, "Loren") I'm treating the name of every new correspondent as a puzzle that must be solved! For example, I see that "Ed Novak" is an anagram for "Oak Vend." Huh. ...Yeah, I got nothin'. I'll have to file that one away for later. You've won this round, "Ed." Go ahead and show me your wares. Speak to me from the dusty eons of yore!

Well, seein' as MaGnUs has managed to prove that an interesting costume can be done with HeroMachine, I've decided to put my limited skills to the test. Hope you think this is as cool as I do!

Yeah. Me too.

Huh. Well, I--

Don't eliminate him yet!

How's about you don't tell me what to do, Mr. Vend or whoever you really are? *grumbles*

Your chest is mostly naked beneath the cowl, including your diamond cutters. The purple leotard ends in a sort of triangular point beneath the cape (y'know, I could probably just make a version without the cape...one sec. There we go.) I know you'd prefer your chest exposed at all times, but check this out -- you can show it off whenever you want...WITH A DRAMATIC CAPE FLIP! You'll start a fight with the menacing, cloaked appearance Batman always has, but once you start kicking ass, your rugged shoulders and manly nipples will be out there for your foes (and press) to admire! C'mon, you know that's awesome. And hey, if you want 'em on display all the time, you can just throw the cape back.

Also, the grayness of it kinda evokes the whole "moderately-sized steel wall" thing. And I thought, y'know...it looked nice.

Well, don't tell me, boy! Show me!

Uh-huh. This looks really familiar to me for some reason... where have I seen this before? I know it'll come to me. Any last words while I try to shake a memory out of my battered noggin?

Finally, you're "Blockade" now because the costume makes ya look a little older, wiser, grizzled, and more experienced. Also, it sounds much more badass without the "boy." At least I think so. Please don't hurt me.

You did not just tell me what to do again! *grabs rebuilt Electric Sousasaxotimpanibone from passing Storm Boy and smashes it to bits* Balls. Now see what you made me do. *stews for a minute*

Oh! I just remembered! About the costume... this is almost exactly what I wore to Junior Prom! (And you don't want to know where Weight Wizard wanted me to put the boutonniere.)

Okay, judgment time: I like the idea of the peekaboo cape -- very clever. However, the extreme angle of the "truss" makes it a little too reminiscent of ladies' evening gowns for my tastes. And while it's a good design in general, there's not much in it that makes it stand out to me. (The orange side-patches on the legs remind me of my earlier designs from a couple of years ago... or was it twenty? Damn sliding timeline!) So I'm going to pass on it. Thanks for playin', Oak!

P.S. About the name change... it's so crazy it just might work. I'm still kind of attached to the whole "Boy" thing, though, especially with the Legion still going by "Boy" and "Lad" and "Kid" even while they're pre-registering their kids for private schools and setting up retirement accounts. What do you think, readers? Should I drop the "Boy" from my codename?

We Are Not Amused

...Aw, who am I kiddin'? I was laughing my ass off. Gyuss Baaltar sent me this costume design, prefacing it with:

attached are my ideas for the blockadeover. I thought someone ought to show a costume both in casual and "powered on" mode.

Sorry for the crayon, they don't like us to have pens in here.

Here's the "costume" (Justice is coming, and it wears Converse All-Stars!) in my reg'lar brawling humanoid mode:

And here it is in my "wall" form:

They let this guy teach skydiving?! The man is a Coleman Francis movie just waiting to happen! (He feels real free up there, in the high blue sky...)

Of course my powers don't work like that, thank the Luck Lords. Maybe in the "Tiny Titans" universe. Man, would Blockade Tot ever rock their world...!