Shrink Me Deadly (by Blockade Boy's Pal, Gadfly Lad)

Phht. Amateurs.

Gadfly Lad here! I'm blogging on a secure line (that goes directly to your era and dimension), so I think it's safe to tell you that my one-man, unauthorized, danger-fraught and 98.239% kick-ass secret gonzo rogue mission is going really quite well! (And thanks for asking!)

Here's the deal: since he became a space-pirate, Blockade Boy has enjoyed "cult hero" status with the criminal classes. This only increased once he adopted that bogus "twin brother" identity, because it allowed people to make up shit about what the "real" Blockade Boy was doing. So he was "sighted" everywhere, doing everything people wanted a populist sociopath to do. When those intraweb sites spread the truth of what happened, it could have caused some serious damage to Blockade Boy's "street cred" (as they say on the streets). But of course, the big ape had to spectacularly resist arrest and catapult himself to the top of the U.P. Most Wanted list. And now, he's out there, somewhere, kicking all kinds of tail, and forcibly making over everybody he defeats. He's become a legend.

My idea: infiltrate Lallor's underworld, and get some juicy intel on where Blockade Boy is hiding. Once I locate him, I'm sure I can convince him to turn himself in. He's such a smooth talker (when he's not breaking things) that I bet he can cop to some kind of plea deal and not even do any prison time! Then we can go back to work for Eyeful Ethel and everything will be cool again.

For my scheme to work, I had to adopt a new identity, courtesy of my super-disguise kit. So I shaved off my mustache (which killed me, since I'd been growing it for three years, eight months, two weeks and one day, and it was just starting to come in real nicely, in my opinion) and I buzzed my hair down to a spiky thatch on top, with just some fuzz on the sides that extended down to my sideburns. Then, I dyed it all a cornflower blond. (With as fast as my hair grows, the roots won't show for a good seven weeks, at least.) While I was at it, I went ahead and dyed my body hair -- which is to say, the seven strands on my chest. I changed from my action-costume into a new get-up that included a battered straw cowboy hat, mirrored goggles, a sleeveless flannel shirt, and baggy polymer hip-waders with cacti embroidered on the sides. And there ya go: I'm no longer "Gadfly Lad: private detective", but am instead one Eli "Tater" Bugzz: Winathian "singleton", runt-of-the-litter, con-artist, ladies' man (but of course) and all-around bad dude.

As "Tater", I've been hustling chumps out of their space-cheddah in trivia games at some of the sleaziest dives in town. See, I let 'em start out thinking I'm some dumb hick, and then I drop some knowledge on 'em! BOO-YAH! I've gotten into a couple of scraps over it. No problem. And I gotta tell you, it's a real rush, staying full-size and fighting hand-to-hand, instead of shrinking down and using ranged weaponry or maces. With my naturally-superior size advantage, I'm pretty slippery, and I've got some barely-legal moves I picked up from watching Beat the Living Crap Out of You League exhibition tourneys. Two of the three people I tussled with had switch-lasers. No problem. "Tater's" gimmick is his joy-buzzer work gloves (favored by 28.6% of all Winathian criminals, ages 18-35, according to a recent poll) so I can just apply a judicious shock to the 'nads if I get cornered. I feel amazing after toppling a guy three times my height. It's better than sex! (From what I understand.)

The last pub I was in, I overheard some rough-looking dudes whispering about "the new kid" and how I'd be perfect for "the operation."

Gee, I hope they're talking about a criminal enterprise.

The Middlemath (by special guest-columnist, Gadfly Lad)

I DO NOT WET THE BED. All that much.

Stupid Tusker. I just don't understand why I even told him that. Or when! Hmm. Unless... yeah. It must have been the night of that karaoke party he had over at his pod. He didn't spend a lot of time singing. Or even working the karaoke machine! He made me do that! He said I probably knew everything there is to know about them! And I do. The original karaoke machines were manufactured in [EDITED FOR SPACE] and then yank it out at the very last possible second. But I digress.

What Tusker did do at that party was to serve up alcohol, and puh-lenty of it! Not that I ever saw him do any drinking himself. No, ma'am! He just got us all to blabbing about ourselves, while he listened. I don't know what he would have done if Storm Boy the Rootin' Tootin' Teetotler had shown up. Maybe give him about twenty bunt cakes and see what happens.

And then, Tusker the World's Stupidest Evil Genius lost his "slam book." And then somebody else immediately found it and posted it on the Intergalactic Intraweb, and then everybody everywhere knew everything about everybody in the office.

The upshot? My girlfriend broke up with me, and now I'll probably never have sex, and all the guys from my tabletop gaming club are calling me "Waterbug" and "Supersoaker" and "Urinalysissy" and... OH. You mean, how's everybody else doing?

I'll make this brief. You know how [EDITED FOR SPACE] seats six people, quite comfortably! Sorry; I seem to have gone off on another tangent. So, to sum up: Eyeful Ethel, Rainbow Girl, and Nightmare Boy are all in jail. Phantom Lad refused to press charges against Frigid Queen, so she's okay. Blockade Boy and his cat are on the lam, although I understand their exploits have popped up on the Heroes United forums, while he judges costume designs if you can believe it. And nobody has laid eyes on Tusker since last week. That means that the Eyeful Ethel Detective Agency now consists of Dentata Damsel, Frigid Queen, and I, with Storm Boy somehow in charge! (I didn't vote for him. Heck, I demand a recount!) Oh, and Phantom Lad is answering the phones. During the few moments he can spare between hour-long personal calls.

Storm Boy keeps talking about wanting to keep up Blockade Boy's "legacy" like he's already dead or something, so he's making me post in this dumb blog about comic book covers. From his own collection, and not Blockade Boy's. (The Science Police hoisted away the entire building Blockade Boy's bachelor pod is in, "for evidence.") Here's the first cover Storm Boy showed me:

It took me a good 28.24 seconds to pry this thing out of Storm Boy's hands! He kept mooning over the big hairy dude on the cover. He just would not shut up about the guy's whiskers! *snort* I bet you, I could grow a beard like that. If you gave me 17 years, seven months, and three days (approximately). The arm hair? Yeah, that'll probably never happen.

Huh. So... what can I say about this cover? Hmm.

First of all, I think he should ask that lady back there what the deal is with the voodoo drums. She looks like she just came from outside; maybe she'll know. Also, I'm pretty sure that's a surfboard leaning up against the wall, so maybe he should just hit the beach and "hang some waves" or however it is the saying goes. Or, heck... he should just up and move away from there. Post his resume on SpaceMonster or some other website, and find himself a good job in a big city. Then, maybe he...! Hold on, please. I just got handed another comic.

Oh.

I guess he did!

Gender Reassignment Challenge: Starfire

Before I get to the main part of the post, I have some good news and some bad news -- not affecting this blog one whit, so you can cut the hysterics. Honestly, you're more Pavlovian than the "Dancing with the Stars" audience! Quit yer bawlin'! ...Aw, heck, I'm lashing out at my audience again. I'm sorry! I think I'm having a meltdown! No, wait... that's just my robo-dingus. Hang on while I replenish the radiator fluid. Yeow! Too hot! Shoulda worn gloves! Or at least a condom! Gimme a sec...

...Aaand I'm back. Sizzling comets, what was I about to say?! Oh yeah! The good news: frequent commenter and all-around cool guy Jon the Intergalactic Gladiator invited me to participate in his group blog contest thingie, Last Gladiator Standing 2. That's where the elite invite-only crowd is divided into two teams and each week they individually write posts "in character" with predetermined story elements. After that, an independent judge (not Jon) picks the best post. That person's team wins for the week. The losing team has to e-mail Jon with the name of the person on their team they want to get rid of. (Do you see where I'm headed with the "bad news" part?) Yup, the bad news: I was the first guy voted off the island/boardroom/house/dance floor. Which, if you're a Shear Genius fan, makes me Paul-Jean -- or if your taste runs more toward "Dancing with the Stars", makes me Tucker Carlson. (Never thought I'd say that!) And no, changing that reference to Paulina Porizkova doesn't help. But I appreciate the thought.

Okay, let's get down to "bidness" as the ancient Mayans used to say. Last week I showed you how I imagined Starfire would look if she was evil. This week I'll show you how I envision Starfire, the hot extraterrestrial dude. And boy howdy, was it a tough challenge!

First, the before:

The art is obviously by Tom Grummett, but the design is pure Perez. Check it! We're talking early 80's George Perez at his finest right here: segmented boots, floral amulets, alligator-skin wrist guards, and a carnivorous perm. That hair-do could have headlined its own comic! Its arch-nemesis: one of those scores of disembodied mounds of straight black Japanese hair that one finds everywhere in manga and J-horror films -- and it would be a ninja, natch. Say! Why am I goin' on like this? I suspect most of you aren't even looking at Starfire's head, much less her hair. Yes indeedy, Starfire's astounding orange rack (doubtless covered with a short soft fuzz, like a peach) and the scientifically improbable way those thin purple strips keep in it check are the main reasons I even brought her up in the first place. Starfire's appearance is undoubtedly, whole-heartedly, in-your-face and poke-your-eyes-out feminine. Now, how can I transmogrify that into something suitable for a male hero?

Glad you asked!

I really, really, really wanted to give the male Starfire a ginormous Tamaranian beard like some of the "real" Starfire's relatives had (and a shaven pate for contrast). So why didn't I? For one, it would have obscured the costume. (And I didn't want to repeat myself by making the shape of the beard substitute for a costume element.) Secondly, I wanted to preserve the idea that it left a trail while Starfire flew around, and even I had to admit that a "beard trail" would have looked freakin' goofy. And thirdly, it wouldn't have read as "young" as I wanted. My compromise was to pull the hair back in a Samurai ponytail deal and let it flow from there. I coupled it with a modest Donegal beard because I wanted to make him look more leonine. (Starfire's people are descended from a feline species, after all.)

Costume-wise, the biggest alteration was in the color. Not that a guy couldn't rock a purple outfit -- I've designed plenty of them -- but in Starfire's case, the hue didn't exactly scream "bad-ass warrior." So I shifted it down the spectrum slightly, to blue. I didn't have to change the boots or the wrist guards. I did remove the texture from the wrist guards because I figured it was more masculine to have a simpler, more graphic costume. I also ditched the two bejeweled amulets, although I left a cut-out down around the waist where it would have gone. I made the collar bigger so it covered the neck and the shoulders and I integrated it with the straps on the torso -- which I widened to create a vest.

Do I like it, personally? Eh, not bad. The size of the hair always has been and always will be ridiculous and clown-like to me, so that's a wash. The rest of it I'm pretty happy with. Starfire Dude looks like he could have come straight out of a Jim Starlin comic. He and Adam Warlock would fight and then team up... to do each other's hair!

You'll notice the art is more stylized than is normal for me. That's because I want to experiment with more expressionistic linework. I definitely think this guy looks more solid than my mannered "air guitar" Lionfang drawing from last summer (your time). The big difference: I didn't use any photo reference for Lionfang, whereas I did for Starfire Dude (just like I've been using for most of my drawings). That's one pic (of a bald guy!) for above the waist, another pic (naked, natch) for below the waist, and the face I just made up. Who knows what kind of kooky crap I'll come up with next week? Not me! See you then!

Previous Gender Reassignment Challenges:

• Saturn Girl
• Scarlet Witch
• Looker (and a slight revision)
• Storm
• Marvel Girl
• Black Canary
• Phantom Lady
• Snowbird
• Dazzler
• Mantis
• DC's Enchantress in the Silver Age and the Suicide Squad and the
  Shadowpact
  

Gender Reassignment Challenge: Star Sapphire to Mandarin Garnet

In the gender reversal challenge, I take a very ladylike superheroine costume and redesign it for the male figure, keeping as many of the original elements as possible without making the guy version look like he's in drag. This time, I decided to tackle a supervillainess instead: the notorious Star Sapphire. The Star Sapphire most folks are familiar with is the Silver Age version, who first appeared in a very tasteful outfit designed by Gil Kane.

The girly elements: the color scheme, exposed thighs, and a freakin' tiara.

She's had a goofy assymetrical space-amazon get-up in the 80's and 90's. We shan't speak of it again. But her latest ensemble certainly got tongues wagging!

Yipes. Dominatrix whore much, Star Sapphire? I don't know who's precisely to blame for this. But I'll wag my thick, hairy finger at Ethan VanSciver because to be honest, his art always bugged me. It's basically Brian Bolland minus several years of "life drawing" classes. (And the floating GL insignia he always draws in front of Hal Jordan's chest looks ridiculous.)

The new version's girly elements: big dangly earrings, high heels, and copious boobery (both anatomical and otherwise).

For my male version of Star Sapphire, I first decided I'd have to change the name. "Star Sapphire" is too feminine. I knew I wanted to stick with a gemstone, and something both evocative and plausible for a Silver Age comic. (That's why my first idea -- "Blood Diamond" -- went by the wayside. Too "Image" and also it's a relatively new term, and a politcal term instead of a gemological one. After a little research on gemology, I came up with "Red Emerald." That's one of the names for bixbite, a rare, violet-red stone. I wasn't completely taken with it. It's clumsy and fakey-sounding, and it doesn't scream "supervillain" so much as it does "male stripper." Or a really gay fishing guide! But then I discovered the mandarin garnet! Now, "mandarin" is a great villain name! And "garnet" sounds marginally manlier than "sapphire." Although I recall in "Return to Oz" that Auntie Em's sister is named "Garnet." And before you get all huffy and lecturing, science nerds, I know there is such a thing as a mandarin sapphire. The problem is (according to all the images I've found) the color is washed-out in comparison to the magnificent mandarin garnet. And since the garnet's color is still reddish, it's not too great a change from the pink/magenta of Star Sapphire.

So here's my idea for the Silver Age and modern "Mandarin Garnet":

Er, that's the modern one on the left. And yeah, I kind of over-inked him. Oops.

For the Silver Age version (Carl Ferris!) I changed the tiara into a circlet. To allude to the "bare thighs" thing, I altered the boots, so there's a space between the red on his tights and the red on his calves. And to match the boots, I changed the gloves a little. Since Mandarin Garnet is a guy (no, really!) he can get away with more exposure on the chest. It's very "ballroom dance champion" but I think it works.

Since the current Star Sapphire's costume is already so skimpy, I felt like I could get away with bare thighs on the male version without it looking too girly. To balance out the exposed skin on the thighs, I exposed even more skin on the torso. And yet I covered the nipples, for the more sensitive among my readers. I brought the "tiara" down on his forehead (like I did with the Scarlet Warlock) and I extruded the upper edges into kick-ass devil horns. And since it's modern, he can get away with long hair. And chest fur! RAWK 'N' ROLL!!!

Previous Gender Reassignment Challenges:

• Saturn Girl
• Scarlet Witch
• Looker (and a slight revision)
• Storm
• Marvel Girl
• Black Canary
• Phantom Lady

Next week: Moral Realignment Challenge: Nightwing and Gizmo!

Legion Of Substitute Costumes: Stone Boy

Like Polar Boy, Legion rejectee Stone Boy had complete control over his powers. Unlike Polar Boy, Stone Boy's power was almost completely useless. Except for providing a decoy target for really stupid armies.

"Seed storehouse"?! It's called a sperm bank you bumpkin! Grow the hell up already! Christ. But my rage, it's distracing me from the matter at hand: Stone Boy's costume. Stone Boy's horrendously ugly costume. Not that I blame Stone Boy himself, mind you. I figure his mom made it for him.

Y'see, Stone Mom was about to throw out that bolt of orange spandex she'd found in a dumpster behind the fabric store, when suddenly she got an idea! Also, check out paunchy Stone Dad in the background. (Special guest star: Gordon Jump!) So by the looks of things, not only will Stone Boy never be admitted to the Legion of Super-Heroes, he's also going to go bald one day. Glad I'm not him. *casually runs a hand through my lush, beautiful hair*

But don't think I'm an unsympathetic bastard! Naw, I'm a sympathetic bastard! I came up with a more handsome look for the guy, and a better idea on how he can use his powers. See, all he needs to do is go to the top of a steep slope, wait for a bad guy to show up, crouch into a ball, turn into stone, and VOILA!

I gave him some padded body armor for when he's not using his "will-force" to turn himself to stone (hey, I can do that too, sort of) and I used the shape of the pads to design a logo for him. It's a stylized "S" and "B." Because your old Earth alphabet looks so much better than Interlac. The cropped hair and stubble is a nice tough look for him, and along with his deliciously excessive body hair, it provides a textural contrast with the armor. Which is why I left so many holes in it. What?! He can turn to stone; what the hell would he need body armor for? Oh, now I'm confused. What was I talking about?

Tomorrow: Legion Of Substitute Costumes: The Mess!

Dracula: Prince Of Dorkness

...And my hair is perfect. Nope, this isn't a mask. Unfortunately. AAAARRROOOOOO! *clears throat* Sorry, I'm prone to doing that now. Anyway, take my advice: don't stand in front of the microwave at QuikTrip while you're wearing Zuunium cuff links. I'm afraid I caused quite the ruckus -- a half-dozen fashion victims mauled, and not a stick of beef jerkey left in the place. Grrrrroowwwlll AAARROOOOO! *ahem* But fear not! Such a low dosage of irradiated Zuunium should wear off by tomorrow. For now, though, I have yellow eyes, horrifying teeth, and there's so much fur on my face you can barely make out my facial features. Thank God this is Wichita, Kansas, or else I might stand out. (Halloween, hell! I could walk the streets of this redneck burg on freaking Arbor Day and not draw a crowd.) But enough about my personal problems. You came here for the costumes! Well, I'm in a Monster Mash kind of mood today, so I decided to redesign Dracula's superhero costume.

You heard me.

This is Dell Comics' Dracula. He's not a vampire, but he has ultrasonic hearing (I'm not sure how that's helpful, unless criminals communicate with one another through a series of high-pitched chirps and whistles) and he can turn into a bat and control bats. And yet he looks like a total goober. So here's how I would have dressed him:

I changed the motif from "bat" to "dragon" based on Vlad Dracul's membership in the Order of the Dragon. And since it looks a bit like a rib cage, I added designs that look a bit like bones to the arms and legs. And I replaced the dopey bat-belt with a sash to break up all the red and to add a little historical flavor. No cape, you ask? Damn skippy! My goal was to really emphasize the superhero aspect. My first sketches wound up looking too much like historical costume, with old-timey capes and leather armor and pirate boots and such. Those designs looked fantastic, naturally, but they didn't scream "superhero." That's why I based the final design around a monotone body suit, and just embellished it with the sash and the dragon/bone detailing. For just a pinch more drama, I gave him corpse-like makeup, a beard and long hair. The hair provides the motion that a cape would have, and it contrasts with the angular silhouette of the suit. And yes, I suppose he looks like the old Marvel villain, the Tarantula, but I didn't notice that until I was inking it. Swear to God.

So forget ol' bat-ears up there. This is a guy I'd let sink his teeth into me. Or vice-versa! AAAAAARRRRRRROOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!! *ahem* Sorry.

Marvel Super Hero Uncomfortable Cocktail Party Of Champions, Part One

Did you know that I was part of the "Marvel Super Hero Contest of Champions?" (Above panels from issue #1, June, 1982.) That's the time the Grandmaster kidnapped what appeared to be every single super hero alive on Earth-Marvel and forced a mere handful of them into Olympic -- er, scratch that! I meant to say -- "gladiatorial" combat. (Yup, it's that super-sized special originally intended to coincide with the 1980 Olympic Games, chopped up and redone as a limited series.) I was just in the wrong dimension at the wrong time. What do you mean you don't see me anywhere? I'm that one guy in that one panel in that one crowd scene, way in the back... in silhouette.

I'll admit, the situation was giving me some nasty "Super-Stalag of Space" flashbacks but I managed to keep myself together. Before we heroes found out why we were there, we mainly just milled around and made awkward smalltalk. ("Aren't these vast, windowless rooms phony?") Sadly, there was no alcohol available to make them seem funny or interesting to me. So, I just kept my mouth shut and made notes on what everybody was saying... and wearing!

Ikaris is wearing more than the minimum amount of "flair", which is sure to please his manager, Zuras. By the way, is he wearing pantaloons? I haven't seen "overpants" that baggy since Lightning Lad's day-glo orange depends! This has to be one of Kirby's worst costume designs, which is saying something. Orion's costume may be plain and ugly, but that's better than complicated and ugly. You already know how I feel about Thor's costume, so we'll skip him -- other than saying that's got to be one of the queeniest "landing poses" I've come across in quite some time. In the background, meanwhile, Rom: Spaceknight puts the moves on Jocasta ("Oh, I'm not all robot, baby! Wanna feel?") Christ, I hope Starshine and Ultron don't run into each other at Cinnabon and put two-and-two together. By the way, I always liked Jocasta's look and I thought it was a shame when she got blown to pieces. But Rom's supposedly high-tech cyborg armor is one step removed from being a Halloween costume.

"Uh-oh! Alpha Flight!" Subtext: "I hope these losers aren't going to latch onto my awesomeness and follow me around the whole time we're here. Let's see, how can I ditch them...?" I really liked the original Alpha Flight costumes -- okay, maybe not Shaman's, which had the hideous color combo of orange and green -- but for the most part they were a good example of how to carry a design theme throughout a super-team while still keeping them looking like individuals. Behind Guardian you can see the taut buttocks of Northstar, who was totally checking me out. Sorry, pal, I don't date prettyboys.

In the final panel today, the Beast and Sasquatch argue about which one is going to be the top, before going on to share grooming trips. Sasquatch swears by "Mane N Tail" horse shampoo, and uses "Clubman" mustache wax for those tricky handlebar eyebrows. The Beast was considering changing his hairstyle. But then A Flock Of Seagulls released "And I Ran" that summer, so that delayed things quite a bit. In the background you can see Iron Fist (love his costume -- LOVE IT) standing next to... a mummy? Nope, that's just Janet "Fashion Skank" Pym, who was getting a seaweed wrap at the spa the moment she got zapped over there. Aw, now she'll never tone up those flabby arms.

Rescue Me: Steeplejack II

Hey there, everybody! It's me, Blocked Boy... er, I mean, "Blockade Boy." Sorry this took so long. I was worried I was starting to repeat myself with my costume designs, and it took forever to push through my creative block. So this will be a catch-up weekend for me. I'll post my Grunge-to-Rockabilly design either tonight or tomorrow. My big Thor post will be Monday. They're already designed, so all I have to do is draw them. After that I might back off the artwork posts a tad -- say, only once or twice a week, with my old wise-ass commentary on the other days.

So, by the special request of commenter Simon, I tackled Steeplejack 2. How could I have guessed he'd be my biggest design challenge ever? I knew right away I wanted to get him out of that stupid green bodysuit. And the Golden Age Flash rip-off helmet was a goner (just like Steeplejack 2, heh-heh) along with the meaningless pocket-tastic harness doohickey. But beyond that? My first instinct was to armor the bejeezus out of him but I've done that way too much lately. And I liked the bearish vibe of the meaty, slablike original, but I didn't want to just copy that look, either. I was stuck.

And then I remembered how much I liked the Wrecking Crew. Particularly Bulldozer. And I decided to put him in more of a regular supervillain costume, but with my trademark Blockade Boy twist.



I love to combine old-fashioned super-costume elements with street clothes -- as you can see from my current costume. Steeplejack 2 was a perfect candidate for that look. So I dressed him in a leather outfit that simulates the look of rusting, riveted steel. The trousers have that plunging waistline I like so much. (I just can't seem to help myself on that score.) Then I gave him a genny-ine hardhat and a flannel shirt with the sleeves ripped off, to give him the flavor of a regular "Joe Lunchpail" type.

But I see some of you have raised your hands. To answer your unspoken protests, yes, I know this Maxwell Plumm person is a sleazy businessman and about the furthest thing away from a working stiff, like, ever. Relax. I got you covered. I've an idea that would have reinvigorated the Steeplejack concept and given it some longevity. Howsabout... he "gets religion" and becomes a hardcore, radical socialist? And his modus operandi becomes violent "home invasions" of sky-high penthouses, wherein he takes small valuables like jewelry and then trashes the place before he leaves? He could put the loot in a lunchbox with a magnetized base so it stays stuck to the girder. And then he uses the money to fund various radical causes. Voila. Instant Captain America villain. Think of the havoc he could wreak at a WTO protest! Oh, and howsabout... he travels around on a flying girder? (pauses, waits for delighted applause to die down) He could use the girder to smash through windows and to batter his foes. How would that work, precisely? It could be controlled with hidden foot-pedals, or maybe he has a psychic link to it or it's just magic (paging the Enchantress!) or sumpin'. Y'know, if he was in the DC universe it would be a snap -- the girder would just be constructed of Nth Metal or whatever the hell Braniac 5 made those flight rings out of. For Marvel? I dunno. I just think it would be an incredible visual -- plus it would be quirky and interesting enough that your typical idea-starved Marvel editor would think twice before deciding to off the guy.

But I guess it's too late for that, huh?

I Thank Thee, Nay

Mine Worthy Ally and Friend, The High Evolutionary,

It please thee, find attached with this missive the costume thou hast provided me. Though it pain mine warrior soul, must I confess thine superlative garment be too grand e'en for the Odinson. The immoderate use of gold and silver alone be more than enow to redden the cheeks of Hela's pale subjects. The sublimely mysterious accessories, such as the "bicep clasps" -- of which both function and purpose not e'en the All-Father himself might discern -- be o'er-worthy of this simple god. The symbols on the garment's severely abbreviated tunic, resembling naught so much as two Midgardian traffic signs, are of such an alarming shape and color that e'er had I mounted mine goat-chariot, Toothgrinder and Toothgnasher gazed upon mine newly-costumed form with much startlement and forthwith bolted from their stable, past noble guardsmen into the palace of Odin himself! (After much searching the beasts were located within one of Sif's boot closets. They maimed twelve men afore they could be persuaded to leave.)



Think thee not that the Thunder God mislikes thine miraculous gift! In truth, it is mine own body which is shamefully unfit to bear such finery. Mine lowly skin hath chafed fitfully 'neath its segmented trousers; likewise the mere act of donning the costume hath clipped mine bodily hair in a wondrous manner: though it be plentiful (if patchy) enow, each follicle individually hath been reduced to the length of a Midgardian gnat's phallus and I knoweth not if it might e'er return to its once-remarkable length. (The lone exceptions being the hair above mine knuckles, 'though why I knoweth not.) The helmet, a reproduction of mine original helmet in charming and dainty miniature and with an intriguing "widow's peak" added, be too tight for mine sensitive cranium, and the aches I suffer be more terrible than the teeth of accursed Fenris. (It may interest thee in addition to know that the helmet's very design hath a strange property of instilling mirth in all that view it -- e'en Hogun the Grim made merry, with a laugh so much akin to a horse's whinney that the Prince of Asgard was sorely discomfitted, with no choice other than to yank up his jerkin and make sport of his third nipple.)

Ne'er wouldst I knowingly bring dishonor 'pon mine father nor 'pon mineself, yet in good conscience must the Odinson return to thee this handsome armor, which be too grand e'en for a god.

In all respects,
Your humble servant,
The Mighty Thor

P.S. The kneepads shall I send thee in a fortnight. They presently reside somewhere on the snow-capped peakes of Jotunheim, as the younglings of Asgard hath mistaken them for toboggans.

[A special Blockade Boy thanks to SpiritGlyph for sending me the scans, and a hearty Blockade Boy apology for sitting on them for nearly two months until I could devise a post I thought would do them justice. Tomorrow: the essence of 90's fug, a.k.a. "The Godpack."]

Gender Reassignment Challenge: Scarlet Witch To Scarlet Warlock

Here's the second entry in my self-appointed gender-reversal design challenge. In other words, I take a girly superheroine costume and butch it up for an (even more) imaginary male version of the same character. The trick is maintaining a visual connection with the femme outfit while keeping it from looking like "brawny guy in panties and a bra." It's harder than it sounds.

This time 'round, I chose the Scarlet Witch. Let's take a look at her in this panel from "The Avengers" #185 (July, 1979) in which Modred the Mystic surprises her in her bedroom while she's sleeping in the nude, and pretty much immediately decides to put some clothes on her. Gay! (Me, too, so no offense meant there. I'm just sayin', is all.)



As you can see, I had my work cut out for me, starting with all that pink, continuing with the strapless bustier/swimsuit thing she's wearing, and ending with the big dumb pointy tiara or whatever the hell that shit is on her head. And here's the result: the Scarlet Warlock.



(Roy Orbison tiger growl)

I'm really happy with how this one turned out. I mean, I don't know about you guys, but I'd do him. Oh, I'm sorry. That was really unprofessional. Let's move on. As you can see, I replaced the bustier-type thing with the closest equivalent for a (non-tranny) guy: a corset. Instead of using the pale pink, presumably gauzy fabric on the Scarlet Warlock's upper body, I just left the skin exposed. Yes, the nipples are a bit upsetting. Deal with it. Below the corset is a nice pair of tight, superhero-type pants. I made the tiara deal into a more masculine headpiece that covers the entire forehead and wraps around the chin. It has a nice Steve Ditko/Jack Kirby vibe, I think. I mean, I could see a guy who wore this fighting Doctor Strange, or maybe the Challengers of the Unknown. The cape, boots, and gloves were gender-neutral so I could leave them alone. I love how the little swoop of cape below the chin looks in conjunction with the corset. And then I just darkened the color scheme to make the outfit more serious and manly. So overall I'm quite pleased with it.

I'm About To Dis A Crazed Murderer

(Here I go!) For such a bad-ass psycho killer, Sabretooth sure had a stupid costume. I say "had" because I know he's had other costumes since the first one, and I assume, or at least hope, he ain't wearing this get-up anymore.

It's got a lot of problems, starting with the black underpants. You don't see the old underpants-over-spandex thing very often in new costumes, because most people have realized how silly and pointless it looks. Even Batman toyed with a trunks-free look for a while, although that didn't last too long. I assume the "overpants" feature was a staple of super-hero costumes because the original ones back in the thirties were heavily inspired by circus costumes. And the typical circus strongman way back in the day wore trunks over tights to conform to lingering Victorian standards of modesty. Sabretooth came along during a weird transitional period. In the late 70's/early 80's, genuinely homicidal super-villains started to appear -- something virtually unheard of after WW2. But the "street clothes" trend wouldn't take hold until maybe the late 90's, so these new characters still had to dress like their relatively harmless forebearers.

Another problem I have with Sabretooth's original costume is the color scheme. It's a hideous combination: black, orange, and a sort of "baby poop" brown. Pretty much the colors of a rotting jack-o-lantern. And it's trimmed in a sickly buttermilk-blonde fur that also happens to be a close match for Sabretooth's natural hair color. Nice.

But the absolute worst thing about it? The huge fur "mane" on the chest and back. The fur on the gloves? Fine. The furry boots? Okay, they match the gloves, so what the hell. But the mane? Yikes! It might work if Sabretooth had a similarly furry cowl, kind of like a more hirsute Wildcat. But no, Sabretooth's ugly blonde-headed mug is popping out of this mountain o' fur for all the world to see. This has the odd effect of making the ferocious Sabretooth look a bit like an aging drag queen with a mink stole around his/her neck. It also confused the holy heck out of me the first time I saw him -- in an old "Power Man and Iron Fist" comic -- because the colorist had made Sabretooth's hair the exact same shade of blonde as his fakey mane. I thought Sabretooth was really fur-covered and his costume had a plunging V-neck and an open back. Imagine my surprise and consternation when I found out that he just really went to town on the fur trim.

That's not to say a cat-themed, fur-trimmed costume can't look great. It's just that some restraint needs to be used.



There, isn't that better? The fur is kept to a tasteful minimum, and the color scheme is a timeless black and white. Hell, even Sabretooth would look bangin' in this costume! (And I'll leave you with that image floating around in your head.)