Celebrity Dish From Lallorland!

Zap! Pow! Lights! Camera! Pow! Action! Zap! Are you getting sick of this yet? 'Cause I'm not! Pow! Zing! Zap! Roll 'em! Blam! Makeup! Whizzzzz! Fwick! Cut! Okay, I'm done. Television and Broadway star Charlie Brown has been cast as the title character in "Duplicate Boy," the latest project from the director of "Uzumaki" and countless Japanese music videos, Higuchinsky.

The film, written by "The Ring 2's" Ehren Kruger, features a little-known DC comic book character. Duplicate Boy, an alien superhero with the ability to mimic other superheroes' powers, first appeared in "Adventure Comics" #324 in 1964 and made occasional appearances in that and other comic books in the following decades.

At a press conference, Kruger told reporters, "I hope to have the same wonderful experience I enjoyed working on the "Ring" sequel, when the director barely spoke any English, and didn't try like that hack Gore Verbinsky did to mutilate my beautiful script into something that was enjoyable and coherent."

Through a translator, Higuchinsky added, "To be honest, I couldn't care less about the script. I just want to use a lot of slow meaningless dissolves and filters and quick jarring cuts and warped-out cartoony eyeballs plus I'll add a lot of jet sounds and elephant noises for no good reason."

A reputed Hollywood insider calling himself "Blockade Boy" opines that the casting of Charlie Brown in the role is "pure genius." Said Blockade Boy, "Duplicate Boy's Who's Who entry from September 1985 says, and I quote, 'He has no training in use of his powers, personal combat, or much of anything else.' You know you're pathetic when even the slimmest biographical profile is at a loss to name things you're good at. Listen, honey, I met the guy and I can tell you right now all the stories about him are true. He's just a good-looking lunkhead who skates by on a natural talent he never bothered to develop. He's like that guy who was a football hero in high school and ten years later he's a janitor. Not that Charlie Brown ever struck anybody as good-looking or heroic, but hey, he's still a lame-ass. Just like Duplicate Boy."

With this latest bit of news, the future looks uncertain for Guy Ritchie's planned Duplicate Boy film, which was to star "Loser" of "Whizzer & Chips" fame.

In a related story, Marcie is in negotiations to co-star as Duplicate Boy's love interest, Shrinking Violet.

The Tragic Decision Of Betty Brant!

A one-act play by Blockade Boy, adapting a scene from "Amazing Spider-Man" #195 (August, 1979) by Marv Wolfman and Keith Pollard.

Curtain rises on the exterior of Empire State University's cafeteria building. Ned Leeds leans pensively near the door. He checks his watch.

Ned: Where on earth can my wife be? It's not like her to be late!

Betty Brant Leeds enters from off-stage, walking briskly, a smile on her face. As she nears her husband, she pats and smooths her hair to make sure no follicles have slipped out of place.

Ned: There you are! What in blazes took you so long? You know I told you to meet me here at exactly twelve o'clock!

Betty: Oh, dearest, I feared my tardiness would anger you, but I did it for us! I just came from the beauty parlor! Don't you just adore what I've done with my hair?

Ned: To be frank, Betty, I don't adore it! It makes you look like Prince Valiant's nancy-boy cousin! And you know very well that any and all decisions about your personal appearance are to approved by me beforehand!

Betty (tearing up): I-- I only wanted to make you happy, Ned!

Ned: And you failed miserably. Oh, don't start sniveling now. I want us to practice one last time what we're going to say to that loser, Peter Parker. It is vital that we present a united front! Why, the poor fool thinks you're still in love with him!

Spectacularly, the set rotates, to the vigorous applause and orgasmic sighs of the audience. A massive chandelier descends upon the crowd, then rises again while a helicopter swoops overhead. Weirdly-costumed dancers swarm over the audience, fondling them, then vanish in a cloud of noxious vapor. When the gas clears, we can now see the interior of the cafeteria. Peter Parker kneels awkwardly over a dropped tray in front of the cashier. Harry Osborn and Flash Thompson point and jeer.

Harry: Hey, Flash -- it's Mr. Grouch of 1979! (giggles)

Flash: Christ, Harry, it's not that funny. And quit laughin' like that. That squeaky, nasal titter of yours always creeps me out!

Peter: Knock it off, Harry... I already apologized for missing your party!

Harry: I know what you said, Peter. It's just that I had ice-cream cake and pin-the-tail-on-the-donkey and everything.

Ned and Betty enter the cafeteria.

Ned: There you are, Parker! Your landlady said you'd be here.

Betty: Remember what I said, Ned -- don't get angry!

Peter: Ned Leeds?

Betty: Peter! What happened to your arm?

Peter: I broke it avoiding a cat!

The lights dim and a spot appears center stage. Peter emerges from the darkness and takes his place in the spotlight.

Peter: Oh, if only I wasn't leading this accursed yet wholly necessary double-life! If only I didn't have to spin this spider's web of lies! If only I could tell Betty that I was the swashbuckling-yet-sensitive hero Spider-Man and that I broke my arm chasing after a sexy cat-burglar with a great rack plus she totally has the hots for me.

Peter returns to his place in the scene. The lights go up.

Ned: All right, Parker-- we're going to end this game right now. Tell my wife you'll never see her again!

Betty: You don't have to, Peter... tell him you care about me...

Peter: Hunh?

Flash: Hey, Betty! Don't look now but your hair-do is eating your head!

Harry: Yeah, Betty, what's with the bouffant? Are you auditioning for the Shirelles? (giggles)

Flash: Once again, Harry, it wasn't that amusing. And teach yourself a new way to laugh. You sound like a freaking child molester.

Ned: C'mon, Parker-- I'm getting sick waiting for your answer! Are you going to stand between Betty and me? Are you going to break up our marriage!?? (He grabs Peter's busted arm)

Betty: Ned! For goodness' sakes-- stop it!

Peter (wincing): No! He's grabbed my bad arm! The pain!

Peter swings at Ned with his good arm. Ned lurches back, out of harm's way.

Peter: That tears it, Mister-- get your hands off me-- now! You want an answer. I'll give you one! I don't wanna see either of you loonies again!

Betty: What do you mean, Peter? We... we care for each other!

Peter (in another aside to the audience): Now's my chance... if I'm a heel, Betty will go back to Ned. I can never be the kind of husband Betty needs. Besides, that new hair-do of hers makes her look like a crazy person. Like a brunette Suzanne Sommers on coke! It's like she's wearing a snood made out of hair! No, she's better off without me and with a rage-filled, possessive lout who could get brainwashed into becoming a supervillain.

Peter takes his place once more.

Peter: Care? Don't make me laugh, Betty... even though that "Bettie Page meets Moe Howard" hairstyle of yours is a real rib-tickler... no, you were just convenient... You showed up when Mary Jane jilted me. Besides, I can tell your first love is a limp-wristed hair burner who's sucking your wallet dry while he gives you the ugliest hair-dos in all creation!

Betty (sobbing): No! You can't mean that!

Peter: Don't bet on it, lady!

Betty stares at Peter in disbelief for a moment. Then she slaps his face.

Betty: How could I have been so wrong about you? How could you say what you did?

Peter: Take a good look in the mirror, honey. That is, if you can see past the three pounds of mascara you have on right now. (to himself) Oh, now I'm overdoing it.

Betty: I-- I came to you as a friend... oh, what a fool I've been...!

Betty storms out the door.

Flash: Well, there goes another girl Parker's wiped his ass with and flushed down the toilet.

Harry: A journey through the New York sewer lines can only improve that mess she calls a hair-do! Am I right? High-five! (giggles)

Flash: Don't talk to me anymore.

The curtain falls.

Letters From A Henchman, Part Two: Evil On Parade

Dear Gladys,

I ben in prison again for two hole months now and you never come seen me or wrote me or nothing so I am writing you a new letter to say how come. Maybe you never got the last letter I sent you so to sum up, since I got outta prison I racked up some pretty heavvy gambeling debts but then I gotta job to pay them off only the job was for this supervillain named "Meeraj" and he was gonna kidnap the Thing from a hospitle but it turns out Meeraj ain't that good a supervillain and long story short we got caught and I'm in prison again. Also I asked you to send some mackaroons for me and my cell mate Fabian cause it turns out we both like mackaroons. But in case you DID get my last letter then you remmember how I said I would tell you what happenned when I was in that big supervillain army that was in all the papers so here goes.

Like I told you before Daredevil was beating the holy hell outta us henchmen but then Meeraj decides he is gonna take him on singlehanded and he uses his illuzhun deal to make dooplickets of himself so I elbow this other guy Charlie and I say "This hole jobs gone south so whaddaya say we make a break for it" and Charlie says "Thats a pretty good idea." So we take off those dumb head gear things Meeraj made us wear and we just stroll around the corner easy as you please trying to disguise our limps and trying to make sure none a the bloody teeth Daredevil knocked loose fall outta our mouths and also we pass a supply closet so Charlie and me slip in there real quick and put on some operating pajamas over our bad guy outfits and next thing you know we are near the front door. Oh and meanwhile a bunch a other crap is going on like Thor fighting the Mole Man so its not like people are paying any attenshun to us anyway. But right outside the front doors is four cops with guns and me and Charlie deside to double-back but then this guy in a black catfish mask or something knocks them all out with a gas grenade and we figger he's gonna walk right in thru the doors but instead he blasts a hole in the wall NEAR the doors and walks thru THAT which is just stupid. And then he gets punched in the kisser by Ant Man and then ants attack and he runs away. And then Ant Man flies off so we finally can make it outside and I am thinking we are home free but then we run smack dab into this guy named "The Melter" who right away can tell we are henchmen so he pretty much orders us to join his supervillain army. And I know what you say Gladys about how I shud stand up for myself more but I was really stuck there, I mean I don't got no super powers and the other guy was named "The Melter" which told me right then and there that if I did'nt do what he said he was gonna melt something offa me like maybe an arm or even my head. So the Melter marches us thru a alley to a old department store that nobody was using and it is filled to the gills with bad guys. I see a lotta guys I seen on teevee before like the Constrickter and the Rhino and the Beatle and Blacklash plus that one guy with the big giant head and the Pete Rose haircut, M.U.R.D.O.C.K. or whatever. And also my cell mate Fabian was there! Only I did'nt know it at the time since we had'nt met yet and also he was in a suit of armer and he called hisself the Meckano Marawder. Anyway some a them had already got their tails kicked in the hospitle but they figgered strenth in numbers so why not just head back down there in a mob? So we did.

Well I wish I could say we were a scary site but to tell the truth a lotta the guys were kinda chubby and out a shape espeshully the Constrickter and even the ones who were halfway fit were dressed like freaking circus clowns like Blacklash and that dumb green Judy Jetson ponytail of his or the Melter and his two-tone stripey pants and teeny helmet or even my pal Fabian who had a suit that made him look like a robot version of our nations capital. And then the women were'nt even hot or nothing they were wresslers I guess so they had man sholders and these huge fat asses and I swear that one lady Poundcakes even had what looked to me like a shlong. Oh and the only skinny one was Screaming Mimi but she was even dressed EXACKTLY like a clown with the face paint and the ruffly skirt like Cyndi Lauper and you know how much I valew our merrage Gladys so let me confess right here and now that yes I was thinking about putting the moves on her but then it ockurred to me how much I love you and also she came off as kinda twitchy and crazy and like a real ball cutter if you know what I mean so I left well enuff alone. So anyway we are marching down the street and me and Charlie are stuck in the back with the Mole Man's guys plus I have to walk right behind the Rhino who smells like our Naugahyde couch after that one time when your brother Freddie got drunk and peed hisself so already I can tell this whole mess is not going to turn out good. And alla the people on the sidewalks are pointing at us and gabbing and they look real ecksited but they do'nt look scared or nothing cause like I said we ressemballed a parade more than a army. That one guy M.U.R.D.O.C.K. even FLOATS like a Macy's Thanksgiving Day balloon. If I remmember it rite I think one kid even yelled at us and wanted to know why we were'nt throwing any candy. And then we don't even make it back inside the hospitle cause there is a ekwally big army of superheros waiting for us right outside the doors and then we all throw down.

There were some good guys I reckognized like Captin America and the Fantastick Four but also a bunch I never seen before or at least if I did I do'nt remmember which cud be from all the times they knocked me in the head. Like there was this metal guy in red hip-waders and this furry blue guy with a devil tail and also the HULK was there if you can belive it even tho I still ca'nt cause I did'nt even know the Hulk WAS a good guy since he mainly just runs around destroying shit and also is'nt the US GOVERMENT looking for him rite now? I mean it'd be like if the cops in London were shooting at some bank robbers and then the Irish Republickan Army shows up and says to the cops "Hey can we help?"

So in the fight a couple a our guys get taken out right away like Meeraj OF COURSE and also the Melter which is just sad since the whole clusterfuck was HIS IDEA IN THE FIRST PLACE but by then we are in the middle of it so we ca'nt just turn tail and run. Me and Charlie are just doing our best to stay out a the way, ducking and dodging and shit and then Thor nails Fabian right in the belly but he manages to get a few shots off which is cool but the only fighters he took out with them are the Mole Man's guys so that's like minus points for our team. Now I am not one hunderd percent positiv this next part happened like I saw it so bear with me but I coulda sworn Spider-Man shot a web outta his CROTCH and rode the Rhino around like a bull at a rodeo, anyways thats what it looked like from my angle. Also this short hairy-armed guy in a ugly orange and brown outfit is fighting Blacklash using KNIVES on his hands so I guess he's another villain who got confused like Fabian did. I bet his face is read now! The last thing I remmember this orange Bigfoot guy I never seen before lifts some robot guy I never seen before over his head and then M.U.R.D.O.C.K. shoots a squiggly laser outta his noggin and lifts the Bigfoot guy offa the ground and tosses him like twenty feet thru the air and guess who he lands on? Yours truly. Not to menshun the Bigfoot guy got knocked out so I'm trapped underneath him with his knee-length pubes in my mouth until the cops show up.

So now I'm in jail again. Gladys I know we had our problems but I miss you and to tell you the truth what scares me most is how much I DO'NT MIND seeing no women around here. Fabian is great and we can talk for hours and hours or sometimes we just look at each other which is nice too since he has these really good looking eyes and a nice smile and his back massahges are the BEST but you are my wife and we will always have that. So please come and see me here real soon okay? I love you.

Your faithfull husband,
Lenny

P.S. Don't forget the mackaroons.

Letters From A Henchman, Part One

Dear Gladys,

I know your sister says I'm a no good bum and you never should of merried me but I wanted to tell you I gotta job so there. And no its not exacktly on the up and up but you know with my record its dificult for me to find gainfull employment. Anyway to make a long story short I owed this guy Tommy a lotta dough and I could'nt pay him right away and he was gonna get the other guy named Ham-bone to chop off both a my legs but then he got this funny look on his face and he said that he knew this guy named "Meeraj" who was looking for guys to work for him and he was paying a pretty good finders fee and he said he knew I was strong and tough and all so he'd just kind of give me to him and take the money for hisself. So it turns out Meeraj is an acktual supervillain like you read about in the Bugle so that means I got to wear a fancy costume and everything.

To tell you the truth that was my least favorit part of the job because the costume is really kinda goofy and I'm glad you never seen me in it. For one thing it's got these little skinny stripes on it like a business man suit would have and I do'nt think that makes no sense on a supervillain suit at all plus the color of it is mainly a washed out orange like a nerf ball or something and the boots and the gloves are this BRITE BRITE blue and to see the two colors together at the same time makes my eyes feel bad. But the worst part of all is the head-mask-thing because it has handles on it. Handles! They go on the sides of my head and I do'nt even know what the hell they are suposed to be for unless Meeraj wants people to think we all have really big ears or maybe that we are the Human Pretzel Family. Also there is a third eye hole on the fourhead part so all that shows thru is skin and no eyeball. I told Meeraj I did'nt really unnerstand why we had to dress like that but he punched me real hard in the gut and said I needed to shut my fat mouth and he also said if I did'nt like the set-up that he could send my sorry ass right back to Tommy and Ham-bone and then I could be doing fashun crittisism with NO LEGS.

So Meeraj's big plan was to sneak us into the hospital where the Thing was and then we would "spirit him away" and hold him for ransome. I wanted to ask Meeraj how exactly the four of us were going to get a monster like the Thing out of the hospitle without nobody notissing cause he ways like a ton and a half plus he could probbly clobber us all to smithereens using only his pinky toe but then I remmembered about getting my legs chopped off so I shut up. So then Meeraj drives us to the hospitle and he uses his illuzhun doo-hickey to make us look like ambulence men and we just walk right inside like we work there and I'm thinking "Oh man I hope no doctors sees us and wants us to drive a ambulence." But so far so good and then when we are almost to the Things room Meeraj turns off the illuzhun for no good goddamn reason at all and then DAREDEVIL is there and he bounces his billy club off the wall right in front of Meeraj like a warning shot or something and THEN Meeraj tells Daredevil our whole plan and I figure out why Meeraj has to pay top dollar for henchmen. Because he's an IDIOT and nobody in their right mind wants to work for him. So Daredevil bounses off a window ledge and then he sproings right into us like we are bowling pens and knocks us silly. We get up and go at him again and he kicks one guy in the belly while I tackel him but then he does this kung fu move where he flips me and as God is my witness I swear it made this really strange sound like FWICK. And then the Mole Man drilled right thru the floor in another part of the hospitle and he had those scrawny little bug eyed guys with him and Thor was there so with everything that was going on we were able to scram out of there and regroup. Oh and then later I was in that supervillain army that was marching down the street back to the hospitle but you probbly heard about that but you probbly did'nt know I was in that so I will give you all the detales about it in my next letter.

Your loving husband,
Lenny

P.S. Please please bring more of those coconut mackaroons next time you come to the jail because me and my cell mate Fabian love those. Thanks your the best.

Blackened Catfish, With Ants

I think we've all been there. You've had your eye on a certain special someone. You want to impress him, so you get yourself all duded up, above and beyond what you usually do -- it's practically a makeover! -- and then, at the very last minute...



...you get ants in your pants and flee the scene. (Panels from "Marvel Two-In-One" #96, February 1983.)

Such is the life of Shellshock, who appeared in only two comics before this and one afterwards. That last one being "Captain America" #319, in which he was killed by Scourge. I can't say it was much of a loss, costume-wise. And yet, I think if he'd had a better costume, he might have been used more often and therefore escaped his editorially-mandated death. And when I say "mandated," I mean the conversation probably went something like this:

Writer: Hey, you mind if I kill off Shellshock?
Editor: Who? Yeah, sure... whatever. Knock yourself out.

Seriously, look at the guy. There is absolutely nothing of interest in that costume -- except for that mask, which is merely odd and which bears no relation whatsoever to his codename or powers. It makes him resemble a blackened catfish, or maybe the lovechild of Daredevil and Doctor Doom. It's ridiculous.

If I had designed Shellshock's costume, I would have made him look less like the Golden Age Sandman and more like a policeman in riot gear, with a bulkier outfit and helmet. Maybe some shoulderpads! (Shoulderpads! Squee!) And I'd at least try to think of a villainous emblem for his chest or sumpin'. Maybe something with a grenade, or concentric rings. I dunno. The main point is, if Shellshock had gone to me for advice, he'd still be alive today and smack-dab in the middle of that Civil War crossover mess that's going on in his universe. Really, I'd like to think I could have deprived Scourge of all his victims. I can just see Scourge lurking around a corner, with the Basilisk in his gun sight, his hand trembling, thinking, "I must rid the world of his evil, and yet... he's just so damned handsome!"

And then he'd toss the gun to the floor, and run away, weeping hysterically.

Farrah Fawcett Grampa

In the Marvel Universe, there is a family of timeless, god-like beings called the Elders of the Universe. Among these is the Gardener. The Gardener dresses simply, in a robe and sandals. Ostensibly it's because he's a deeply spiritual man who is One With Nature... but if you ask me, he's just trying to put even more visual emphasis on his spectacularly feathered hair. I mean, look at that glorious mop! Sure, he pulls the old "humble hermit" act when he's around other people, but you just know the moment he's alone, out comes the hairspray, a brush, and a hairdryer that runs on the Power Cosmic. Better yet, he accessorizes with Adam Warlock's soul gem and a bird with an identical hairstyle! (Lookalike pets... what is this, a Marvel comic or a Hanna-Barbara cartoon?)

And now, a completely imaginary romance between the Gardener and the Incredible Hulk, hastily cobbled out of random panels from "The Incredible Hulk" #248 (June, 1980).



Angry sex! Yes, Gardener, the Hulk really knows how to work over a guy's "staff." The Hulk and the Gardener were quite the couple after that. They went everywhere together -- quarreling constantly but just as often stealing away for more furious lovemaking. The Hulk moved into the Gardener's ashram and took to wearing (tattered) hemp pants and restricting himself to a macrobiotic diet. He'd only eat whole, live deer and yaks and manatees and such. For his part, the Gardener started going around shirtless, and he learned to appreciate the simple pleasures of leaping over the Grand Canyon in a single bound, pounding military vehicles into unrecognizable lumps of steel, and referring to himself in the third person. But such volatile romances rarely last. Annoyed by the Hulk's absolute refusal to either do his share of the housekeeping or to go out and find a damn job, the Gardener accepted Xemnu the Living Titan's invitation to join him in a glamorous ski vacation, and summarily kicked the Hulk out on his ass. The Hulk was devastated, and even contemplated suicide.



The Hulk couldn't go through with it, however. Because he weighs 1040 pounds and has skin like rhino hide, so the rope just snapped in two. Still, he was mopey for a long while. Love had died in his heart.



Aw! A happy ending! Turned out Xemnu had also invited Quasar and the Living Tribunal on that ski trip, and was apparently expecting some kind of "four-way" to occur. The Gardener was humiliated. Finally, he returned to the Hulk, because he knew their love was meant to be. Also because he's an enabler, and in some dark corner of his mind he gets off on taking care of someone who doesn't appreciate him.

(Okay, so maybe the ending's not that happy.)

The Heartbreak Of Starfioriasis

By Doctor Blockade Boy, M.D.

Starfioriasis is a fungal infection of the skin. In its advanced state, it causes the victim's skin to turn green, with darker, fist-sized lesions. Unlike the viral disease "Shingles" a.k.a. "Herpes Zoster", which affects only one side of the sufferer's body, Starfioriasis affects limbs on alternating sides. It will spread to cover the entire trunk of its victim with one odd exception. For reasons as yet unknown to medical science, it leaves a large, oval-shaped patch of unaffected skin in the center of the chest.



Starfioriasis is rampant on many alien worlds where hygienic conditions are not commonplace. The average Starfioriasis victim is female, between eighteen and twenty-four years of age, tall, slim, and has a great rack. Concubines-turned-rebel-warlords are particularly susceptible.

Currently, there is no medical treatment for victims of Starfioriasis. It is not fatal; nor is it permanently scarring. In fact, it will often spontaneously vanish, leaving no trace that it was ever there at all. Until then, infected persons are advised to make themselves comfortable by wearing as little clothing as their modesty will allow. Ideally, they should run around bare-ass naked. Exercise is highly recommended, including running, jumping up and down in place, and chopping one's enemies' heads off with a sword. When sitting, it's best to do so on a fur-strewn castle floor or a massive, ornate bed surrounded by gauzy curtains. For maximum comfort, it's suggested that the Starfioriasis victim spread his or her legs as far apart as humanly possible, or crouch on all fours and glance backwards with a friendly, inquisitive expression. Patients are typically put on a strict diet of bananas and corndogs. They are instructed to eat these very slowly.


(Many thanks to Walaka for pointing out the goofy costume of Starfire's boyfriend Dagan to me, thus giving me the idea to tackle Starfire's awful get-up. Check out his dissection of Dagan's duds on his blog. Two words: stovepipe fez. Haw!)

Post-Traumatic Banner Disorder

I'm not kidding. That's me, right behind him, there! I think I look very handsome and rugged, in a "Moose" from Archie Comics kinda way. I know... you're wondering, "What happened to your sweet-ass goatee and muttonchops?" *sigh* Long story.

Cool cat Tom Foss has links to even more Civil War parody banners on his blog.

Pimp My Briefcase

When Denny O'Neil wrote this book, they could have used this same cover but replaced the gauntlet with a bottle of Jack Daniels. "Must... save... booooozzze...!"

The one thing about Iron Man that really strained my suspension of disbelief was that darn briefcase. I just couldn't buy that Iron Man could cram his entire suit of armor inside the thing! Powerful rockets and pop-out roller skates on the bottom of the boots? Sure, why not? A device on the palm of the glove that can blast through a brick wall and yet doesn't tear Iron Man's arm off with the recoil? If you say so, man... whatever. Just don't try to tell me that a man-size suit of armor that's able to withstand the impact of a bazooka shell is collapsible and can fit inside a briefcase. His name is Tony Stark, not George Jetson. Yeah, yeah, I know there've been countless nerdy schematics drawn up to try and support this crazy idea. "But the armor is really flexible!" the nerds squeak, pathetically. "It's like chainmail!" Yeah, not buyin' it.

On the cover to "Iron Man" #118 (January 1979), artist Bob Layton makes it appear that Tony Stark was already wearing the chest plate under his clothes, like he used to do in the Olden Times when he needed it to keep his heart from going kablooey. I like that idea... because it frees up more space in the briefcase! Not sure what that would do to the fit of his crisp designer suits, though. He'd have to wear big baggy shirts and jackets all the time. Like the Beyonder! (Ew.) And inside the comic, where Layton is finishing John Byrne's layouts, the actual scene is a bit different:



Do you believe that his entire suit of armor fit inside that dinky little briefcase? Well, good for you, because I sure as hell don't. I guess we'll just have to agree to disagree.

So let's forget about the armor. What else do you think he managed to stuff in that briefcase? I'll start!

1. Fully-stocked sushi bar
2. Pint-sized homunculus valet, packed in dry ice
3. Hot tub!
4. Go-kart
5. Crystal chandelier
6. Pipe organ
7. Wig, mink coat, and one-of-a-kind Bob Mackie gown, for special "undercover" missions
8. A complete Sentinel robot. Just because he can.
9. One of the islands in the West Indies; I forget which one
10. His soul

Your turn!

Captain Comet's Very Fashionable Day

In "Strange Adventures" #22 (July 1952) Adam "Captain Comet" Blake attempts to enliven his dull civilian job as an information clerk by dishing out wholly spurious information to gullible young nerds. And if that doesn't work, there's always the completely edible suit he's wearing. The jacket and trousers? A delicate black truffle mousse. The shirt? Stitched together from only the finest cuts of veal. And the tie? A salmon. Blocked by Captain Comet's knee (um, that is a knee, right? I know he's a mutant and all, but GODDAMN!): the salmon's head, which still has the skin on it, and which gazes balefully out at the knickers-wearing preteen loser before it, knowing full-well that the moment the kid sets foot outside the library, a bottlecap beanie-wearing ruffian will punch him in the gut and steal his milk money.

Despite his best efforts, Captain Comet allows his futuristic mind to drift away from the situation at hand, and reminisce about the exciting events of the previous day, when he was summoned by a bunch of wizened old extraterrestrial men in floor-length blue robes.



Screw jeans and Hawaiian shirts! This is a what I call "Casual Fridays", my friend! Plus, they've installed a small roller derby rink in the middle of the room. Too cool! And do those desk chairs look comfy or what? I bet they recline.

I understand they've already instituted the robe policy at the headquarters of American Express. Floor-length robes for everybody! Whoo-hoo! The only downside? If a guy chooses to "go commando," it leaves a funny smell on the chair. Check out the orange guy's hat. Nope, he's not wearing a backwards baseball cap. Although I admit that would be kind of awesome. Let's look at another one of those charming chapeaus, in more detail.



Remember that hip-hop trend of wearing a sun visor backwards and upside-down? This is kind of like that. (Side note: is this still a trend in your time period? I can't always keep the fashion trends straight, what with me being a time traveler and all. Say, have, tall, pointy wizard hats become popular for men yet, in your era? No? Oh, right, that's next year. Something for you to look forward to!)



On the icy world of Lukan, the only natives we ever see are fully grown, male, and shirtless. Yay! And they're all made out of some crystalline substance. Boo! In a grand old sci-fi tradition, there seems to be a planet-wide uniform, and it's black underpants. The guards wear the tighty-blackie numbers you see here, while the leaders wear longer, baggier versions. I guess instead of asking for your rank, a Lukanian crystal man might demand, "Boxers or briefs?!"

Side note: I can understand that if you were a crystal man and you saw a fleshy pink alien creature rushing towards you, that you'd feel a mite anxious. But really, dude, did you have to pee your pants like that? I mean, that puddle is freaking huge! How many cups of coffee did you drink this morning?



Belly shirt sighting! In 1952, yet! Okay, so it's not quite the same thing, but still. This is a little closer to the get-up Lana Turner wore in "The Postman Always Rings Twice." Check out the high-water panties. Don't want to expose the belly button, now do we? That would be utterly pornographic. Just imagine if Jim Balent had designed this outfit. It would look like about three strands of mint-flavored dental floss.

In the exciting climax of the story, Captain Comet takes one look at the metal circlet on Radea's head and says, "Oh, honey... no. Just... no. You look like a Renaissance disco nightmare in that thing. Here, allow me...!"



See, there's bad jewelry, and then there's really bad jewelry. But you scoff. Who ever heard of a piece of jewelry that could control someone's behavior? *rolls eyes* Such a thing exists in your own time! It's called a wedding ring, people! Gah! (Not that it's foolproof, I'll admit.) Okay, now that Captain Comet got that circlet off Radea's head, I really want to do something about her hair. Oh, well.



Back at the library, Captain Comet has to deal with an antagonistic blonde. Lucy Lane's cousin, perhaps? As you can see, the haughty hottie has been engaging in the ancient Chinese practice of hand binding. Her right paw is now utterly useless, but I'll be darned if it isn't a tantalizingly delicate little thing. Do you think these two might secretly have a thing for each other? I mean, they did decide to coordinate their wardrobes that day. (Just like Weight Wizard and I used to do. *bittersweet sigh*) On the other hand, check out Captain Comet's expression. His words may be casual, Hugh Grant-style dithering, but his face says, "I don't care how many flowers you stick in that bleached-blonde rats' nest you call your hair, it still ain't gonna distract people from the mustache, bitch."

Gown Syndrome

In "The Incredible Hulk" #262 (August, 1981) Bruce Banner washes up on a Malibu beach, clad only in his trademark tattered purple slacks. He's resuscitated by a gorgeous, pigment-free woman in an evening gown, mink stole, and opera gloves. Then he passes out again. When he returns to consciousness...



So basically, it's implied that the mysterious woman took Bruce Banner's measurements while he was passed out! "Dang it, I'll have to measure that tricky inseam again! Well, the eleventh time should be the charm! Tee hee!"

Do you think Bruce was disappointed that the pants weren't purple? I can just see him having a flop-sweating, forearm-scratching, junkie-like reaction to all that white. "Um, don't get me wrong, I'm grateful you saved my life 'n' all, but... are you sure you don't have any "Rit" dye around here anywhere? Or even some food coloring?" And then he'd wind up hunched over in a corner of the house, rocking himself back and forth, muttering, "No purple, no purple...!"



Glazier is my favorite Hulk villain because she wears a gown and opera gloves -- and she does it pretty much all the time. I think all the best Hulk villains wear gowns. The Leader, the Abomination, General "Thunderbolt" Ross... what?! Well, I didn't say they wore gowns on panel. Anyway, Glazier's homelife is like my daydreams. She lives in a beautiful home on the beach, she's always attired in expensive garments, and she's surrounded 24/7 by men, men, men! She also has a big white dog named "Snowstar" -- a moniker that makes me suspect the canine is either a frequenter of internet bulletin boards or a tertiary X-Men character. Or a coke dealer.

Now, about those "lifelike" statues of men... have you guessed what the "big twist" climax of the story will be? (I guess I kinda halfway spoiled it by saying she was a villain.) If you haven't figured it out yet, consult your Big Book Of Fantasy Plot Cliches. Or any book on Greek mythology. But I digress. Bruce shacks up with this woman for a whole month, until this happens:



Oh, dear. Well, now we know why she wears the opera gloves all the time. Bitch needs to moisturize! In a roundabout way, that also explains why she wears the evening gowns. I mean, what else goes with opera gloves? Opera gloves minus evening gown plus any other type of clothing equals? Miss Piggy.

By The Way, You're Welcome

I'm baaa-aack! (Whee! I'm a hacker!) I just wanted to stop by and rub some of my incredible success in Blockade Boy's sullen, slab-like face. Time for a fun fact! We all know that Blockade Boy is a lumbering, musclebound drama queen with a vicious tongue and no discernable talent at fashion design. But! Did you also realize that he has never seen one of his superhero costume redesigns all the way through? Even on the rare occasions when he sells one, like he did to that nutjob, the Black Condor, he manages to throw a tantrum and quit at the last minute before he's even done sewing it! Hee! What a loser!

Now, I, on the other hand? I've redesigned simply scads of superhero costumes -- ones you've seen in comics for, oh, years, now! You just didn't know it yet! Say, let's look at one that should be fresh in all your minds! Here's the original:



Bleh. Boring. I selected this panel because it was drawn by Scott Kolins. Don't you just adore Scott Kolins? I know I do! He makes everything he draws look like it came off the box to an Intellivision cartridge. And that is, like, my whole aesthetic! Anyway? You can see how simple and unadorned everything is. I think I just fell asleep just thinking about it! In fact, I'm sure I did, because there's suddenly a really rank taste in my mouth, and one of my eyes is crusted shut. Now! Let's take a look at how I improved it!



See what I did there? That was the main problem with the old Nova costume... it wasn't pointy enough! Now everything on it is pointy! I even made the little four-pointed star thingamajig on the mask pointier! And that took some creativity because it was plenty pointy enough already, believe you me! I like how it makes him look like he has a bird beak now. Also? I instructed him to scream a lot. I wanted to make sure that even if somebody just saw him in their peripheral vision, they could tell he was pissed. 'Cause he's a badass! 'Cause he's pointy! The other thing I did was to install those little disc-shaped "Tap Lights" all over his costume. You know the ones I mean. They have commercials for them all the time, and they're only like $2.99 each. It's a real cheap way to spruce up any costume! The only bad part is you have to keep tapping them to keep them activated, so if you have a lot of them it makes it look like you're doing the Macarena.

Well, I'm off! For now! (Hee!) I understand the Blackhawks could use some new costumes. Not to worry, fellas! Storm Boy is on the case!

Doomstruck

Okay, forget the dumb ol' patches. There's just so much more fashion fun to be had within the pages of "The Doom Patrol." For example, the colorist sometimes liked to "mistakenly" make the white portion of Elasti-Girl's costume flesh-toned instead of white. Which made her look like Vampirella's perky cheerleader sister.



Doom Patrol also had what I think was the most irritating case of artistic license ever: Negative Man's bandages.



I chose that panel expecially for Dorian. Anyway, the way they drew him has always bugged the living bejeebus out of me and I guess it'll continue to do so, since they've gone back to drawing him like this.

You can see his face in excruciating detail through the gauze. I defy anybody to fanwank this into anything even close to being logical. "Really thin gauze," you say? Well, for one thing, the gauze is meant to contain Negative Man's awesomely deadly radiation, so I have trouble believing it would let light pass through it. And anyway, why can't you see his ears? Are they like, really really really radioactive, so they have extra layers or sumpin'? And for Pete's sake, you can even see the inside of his mouth!



Must... not make... Cialis joke...

Aw, look at this! Major Matt Mason is dressed as a salt shaker for the school play!



Y'know, if my choices were either missing out on the transcendent wonder of exploring the moon or looking like that? I'd stay inside the space capsule and hope somebody brought along an InStyle Magazine I could read.

I'll leave you with your ultimate Doom Patrol masturbation nightmare. Ta!

What The World Needs Now Is Embroidered Cloth Patches

From "Doom Patrol" #123 (March/April 1973):


I presume this is the sort of thing the average comics fan of 1973 would wear... on his or her bongwater-soaked jean jacket, of course. A few random points:

1. The advertiser certainly tried to cover a wide demographic base, by including both a "Black Is Beautiful" emblem and the Confederate battle flag. They're the Switzerland of embroidered cloth patch distributors!
2. Does the "Help! I need lovin'" patch actually work? Yes, but only if the other person is "Budweiser Powered."
3. I count no less than five peace symbols and one specifically anti-war slogan among the patches. And yet the world is still wracked by military conflict. Obviously, the damn patches are defective. I want my money back.
4. It was 1973 and they were still selling Woodstock patches. What, had they run out of patches commemorating the 1893 Chicago World's Fair? Also, where's my Altamont patch?
5. I'm tickled by the notion that somebody wearing the "pollution" skull-and-crossbones patch would probably get their heads dunked in the High School boy's room toilets by somebody wearing the regular skull-and-crossbones patch.

The Country Louse And The City Louse

"Ghost Riders Crossroads" #1 (of one, thank God -- November, 1995) pits the wheelie-poppin' duo against a pair of lame 90's style bad guys. Here's the first one:



Who knew the inner monologue of a serial killer with a potato sack on his head could be so boring? Not to mention, cloyingly cute? And precisely how "moist" can wet metal be, anyway? And which credited writer can I track down and punch in the nads over this? Howard Mackie for "story" or Ivan Velez, Jr. for "script"?

Ah, but I'm supposed to be talking about fashion! The Scarecrow's costume has one "hook" for me, and that's the jack o'lantern mouth on the cowl. It's fairly unique and I'd even go so far as to say it's the one iconic thing about him. The rope around the neck? Boring and impractical. Why walk around wearing something that could be used to instantly kill you? He might as well wear a huge guillotine that he has to drag around everywhere. Or a poncho made of a drift net entangled with jellyfish and medical waste. Hey, Scarecrow, I've designed some shoes where your toes fit between sharp spikes that have been coated with cobra venom; maybe you'd like to wear those.

The rest of his outfit? Instantly forgettable. The color scheme is ugly and bland. It could have been perked up by some patches in a brighter color or a more interesting pattern, but nope. Failing that, the costume could have been saved by making the overall silhouette more eye-catching. Again, no. Hell, at least Jonathan Crane had the good sense to wear a hat.

Here's some dialog from the next page: "His voice... like ground glass against tender skin... making me afraid. No. That's not right. He should be the frightened one. I'm the Scarecrow. I eat fear."

No, you suck balls.

The other villain in "Ghost Riders Crossroads" is Mephisto's son, Blackheart. (And boy, does he ever get some ripe Kelsey Grammaresque dialog! It's like the baby from "Family Guy" minus the intentional stabs at humor.)



Lookin' good, Blackheart! Been workin' out? It suits you! It helps to make up for the fact that you barely have a face to speak of, are completely lacking genitalia, and have a long, prehensile tail. (Like a lot of the guys I meet at the gym!) Still, I wonder what you'd look like with a makeover. Trim up the spines a little bit, get you in a tailored suit with some nice Italian shoes...



Oh, for--! That's a twelve hundred dollar Baroni Uomo suit and you just put your quills right through it! Didn't we talk about getting those things waxed? And where is the tie I bought you? And your hair--! That is not the length I requested. What do you mean, "second thoughts?" You know what? Forget you. I don't need this. You don't want to take my advice? Fine. You look like a licorice Johnny Depp. Congratulations.



Um. Heh. Kidding! You know me and my wacky sense of humor! You look great, honest!

Please, don't kill me.

My Most Daring Fashion Intervention Yet

"New barber?" "Short?" Who on God's green earth could that sniper be referring to?

This is from "Wolverine and the Punisher" #2 (November 1993). Way-out artistic interpretation of Wolverine by Gary Erskine.

So the mutant healing factor provides no defense against bad hair days, huh? If Wolverine was a real person -- and haven't we all masturbated about that? -- I suppose this is how his hair would be. Greasy, tangled, and reeking of cigar smoke. None of those achingly dated "animal ear" points. (Wolverine won a Timberwolf Scholarship to the Cain And Abel School of Cosmetology!)

But seriously... Wolvie! Er, may I call you Wolvie? No? Fine. And please move your claws away from my jugular vein. Many thanks. Seriously, Mister Wolverine, you're a mess. Run a brush through that rat's nest and apply some product. Or at least tie it back in a ponytail -- I'm pretty sure I've seen you do that before. And stop slouching! It looks like you have a hump. And about your clothes -- when you're short and stocky, loose-fitting clothes are a huge no-no. They make you look a good fifty pounds heavier. Look at yourself here. You look fat! You're not fat. You've got washboard abs, for Pete's sake! Not that you can tell in this little ensemble. And the whole "civilian clothes over superhero costume" thing just ain't workin'. Not when you can see the costume poking out. You don't see painters wearing tanktops over their coveralls, do ya? Or Marines wearing cut-off jeans over their crisply pressed dress trousers. I know you know this. It's like you're just stumbling around in a daze here. SNAP OUT OF IT!

Yeah, that and the hair.

Haunted Hos!

"The Warlord" # 45 (May, 1981) is all about scantily-clad women being grabbed by scary monsters, but I'm the one who had to deal with the horror of their outfits. In the main story, elaborately VanDyked "man of action" Travis Morgan must stop a trio of giant cyclopes from abducting the womenfolk of a race of tree-dwelling dwarves. I've only glimpsed the tree-dwelling dwarf society and I've never visited them, so I guess I'm pulling a "Lars Van Trier" when I say that they're undoubtedly the worst people ever to have existed on or under the planet.



All the dwarf women we see in this issue -- and it's a lot! -- are busty skanks clad only in skimpy rags, while the only two dwarf men we see are dumpy, pot-bellied, and covered in layer upon layer of garish Elizabethan/Victorian clothing. Apparently tree-dweeling dwarf society is divided into two unequal strata: the pimps and the hos. Look at that diminutive, big-headed tramp, desperately angling for the attention of beefy hunk. (And succeeding, I guess! Ew.) It's like the Skartaris version of "American Idol." Any moment now she's going to slowly clap her hands with her fingers splayed apart and tell the hunky guy he has "a beautiful spirit." And then she'll invite him back to her dressing-tree and deny the whole thing later.

Later, the Warlord -- who is all about delegation -- arranges for the captive tree-dwelling prostitutes to be rescued by a woman who could really use a Brazilian wax.



Yeah, yeah, it's a furry bikini. Still, when the fur is an exact match for your own hair, is it really a good idea to wear something like that? And again, look at the tree-dwelling dwarf women and their ripped clothing. The cyclopes didn't do that to them when they kidnapped them -- that's just how the dwarf ladies happened to be dressed at the time. Creepy!



Aaaannnd creepier.

In the "Omac" backup story, penciller Greg LaRoque hopes nobody who sees this has ever read an X-Men comic and will therefore think that the carnival barker's hairdo is kooky and original! Ah, youth! But the lady in the lime green is the scariest part of the story. Radioactive earrings, boots that are literally painted on and puffy-yet-ventilated sleeves. And the hair! All that hair, and the monster, sight unseen, somehow manages to bypass it and grab her by her waist. Well, it was probably all sticky with Alberto VO5, anyway.

Hey, want to see something really scary?



Cool your jets, Poindexter. I hate to be the one to break this to you, but you're a hyena-faced spaz and nobody likes you. (There, better.) Also, I'm going to have to revoke your muttonchops. You're just not cool enough to carry them off. *RRRRIIIP!!* Yes, I know it stings. Stop crying and take it like a man. What am I going to do with them? Not that it matters to you, but I'm going to preserve them in brine and keep them on a shelf. Next to Cliff Carmichael's.

(I can't 100% guarantee a post tomorrow -- 95% but not 100%. I'm helping someone install laminate flooring in their house and computer access is an unknown quantity. Everything will be back to normal for Monday, though.)