Welcome to Loneliness & Cheeseburgers Presents: Ms. Marvel (Vol. 4), Issue #2 – “Super Famous (Part 2)”! In the previous installment, Bruno has a main squeeze now and Kamala is jealous!

Other than that, a company called Hope Yards is erecting bullshit developments and apartments aimed at gentrification and they’re using Ms. Marvel’s likeness to advertise, which just about pisses her off it does. This story doesn’t seem as interesting, I’d rather Ms. Marvel just punch giant frogs with her giant fists. Oh yeah, that happened too.

So we’re going to see Kamala hang on Bruno so hard that his new girlfriend will up and leave out of exasperation, and we’re going to see Ms. Marvel punch a bunch of corporate faces at the ol’ housing development watering hole. Excitement awaits!

Ms. Marvel (Vol. 4), Issue #2 [February, 2016]
Written by: G. Willow Wilson
“Super Famous (Part 2)”

Ms. Marvel kicks down a door at the Hope Yards Development office in downtown Jersey City. “I must have missed something last time…” she says, searching the building in the dead of night this time. “There’s no way a development corporation with actual security drones has nothing to hide…”

She looks around the painfully normal office for extraordinary clues! Eventually, and by that I mean roughly seven seconds, she finds a little mini-fridge stuffed with large containers of swirling purple liquid. “Step away from the mini-fridge,” says a voice from behind in a buzzy, robotic tone. The robo-bees are back, baby, and they’re badder than ever! “This is private property! You are trespassing!”

Ms. Marvel grabs a container and leaps out the window, growing big to punch out little robo-bees and running back to Bruno’s house for science nerd analysis.

After a few panels of talking about security drones and Hope Yards and purple drank, a live news broadcast on Bruno’s laptop (because the kids love having CNN in their browsers at all times) reports on housing development protests and Ms. Marvel’s involvement in selling the fuck out. The correspondent interviews Nakia: “If Ms. Marvel is only here to profit off the destruction of the city she claims to represent… then she needs to go.”

Ms. Marvel is on one billboard and suddenly she’s squatting over Jersey City and taking a big dump all over it!

Fuuuuuck that. Ms. Marvel needs to make a public appearance and denounce her involvement with this housing malarkey. Bruno wants her to lay low until the purple stuff is analyzed, which she begrudgingly agrees to. For now, it’s time to skulk around in the middle of the night looking important and heroic as she makes her way to her own home. All the while she ruminates. Ruminates and ruminates. Good thing no one in the house is awake to catch her coming in 18 hours after curfew.

“Hello, beta,” says her mother sitting alone in the dark kitchen. Kamala gets the business for sure in exactly the way you’d imagine, but don’t forget that Ammi knows that her daughter is Ms. Marvel so it’s a different kind of business. Namely, it’s this Hope Yard development business. Ammi points to a photo in the newspaper of the billboard. “Look what people are saying about you! You can’t enlargement yourself out of this one, beta!”

Kamala grumps. “It’s embiggen, Ammi.”

Ammi forbids her daughter to go out and do the Ms. Marvel thing until this blows over. Public perception is at an all-time low. “And remember… you can’t choose to be a hero! You can only choose to do what a hero would do!”

Yeah, yeah, yeah. Thanks, resident expert on heroes. The next morning, after 45 minutes of sleep, Kamala slumps down the neighborhood to school. Aamir, her shiftless loser brother, catches up with her. She never met with him last night and he needed her there.

“There’s, uh – I needed to talk to somebody.” He scratches his head sheepishly. “Somebody I can’t talk to alone. I need another, umm, girl there. To chaperone us.”

“Wait a second.” Kamala looks shocked as all get-out. “You wanted to talk to a girl?”

“Yeah.

“You have a girlfriend?”

“Istaghfirullah! Of course not! She’s a girl I’m speaking to only with correct supervision for the purposes of discussing marriage!”

“Everybody has a girlfriend except me!” Kamala pouts, stomping down the street. Aamir beams and decides that the two of them can pick her up (Tyesha) as they walk to school. Sound good, chief? Aamir gives his GIRLFRIEND a ring while Kamala stomps and sulks.

What kind of world is this where Aamir gets to bone down and Kamala can’t even grab a little ass??

“Are you gonna warn her that you drool while you sleep?” Kamala huffs. “’Cause that seems like vital spousal information.”

Nothing can take away Aamir’s pep in his step… until they see a woman in an abaya getting questioned by Hope Yards security guards racistly. What’s-his-nuts Chuck is like “there’s no problem here, homie” when Aamir gets mad. “We’ve just had a couple little break-ins at Hope Yards and we’re trying to make sure everybody here is someone who needs to be here.”

After all, Hope Yards is filling up with residents and they deserve a bit of security, is all. “Meet your new neighbors!” Chuck says happily, pointing to a bunch of awful white people with glowing purple eyes. A boy in a letterman jacket says hi to Kamala and speaks in a weird, trance tone while his eyes shine brightly. He’s all like “When my parents told me we were moving to Hope Yards, I was ecstatic! Fresh ideas! Fresh locales! Fresh produce! Happy neighbors! City revitalization! High-end restaurants! That’s Hope Yards, baby!”

Radislav is there, too. Purple eyes and everything, but disheveled and tired-looking. All like “Yeah, Hope Yards is amazing and great, it’s like blowjobs and hamburgers.”

Kamala isn’t standing for this. Fuck Ammi and her lousy opinions! Ms. Marvel needs to get herself out there and talkin’. So she’s going to leave Aamir and Tyesha hanging, which is against the law Muslimly, and go be Ms. Marvel before school starts.

The two of them make the most of it.

Whatever gets us away from these mofos with their Dune-ass glowing eyes.

Kamala gets ahold of Bruno as she runs, updates him on the status of the Hope Yards’ evil intentions. Bruno isn’t surprised – he discovered nanotechnology after slopping some purple goop under a powerful microscope. “Anybody who drank that stuff has ingested thousands of little artificial viruses. They’re being reprogrammed, neuron by neuron.”

Well, isn’t that some shit? This sounds like a job for the reviled Ms. Marvel, then! She’s going to scope things out and see if she can’t follow some Hope Yards dickheads back to wherever the corporate headquarters are located.

Three FBI-looking agents enter the science lab, so Bruno suddenly says some cryptic words over the phone: “Uh, Kamala? You really need to talk to my girlfriend. She has the key to my heart. Seriously. You need to talk to her.”

*click*

So now that Bruno is on his way to getting bamboo shoots shoved under his fingernails, Ms. Marvel traverses the city. “Something’s not right here,” she thinks astutely. What did he mean about the keys and the hearts? She leaps on top of the billboard and scopes out the scene. There just happens to be some large moving trucks circling the block. Ms. Marvel leaps on one and draws the attention of Chuck, who happens to be riding within the truck she landed on.

“Ms. Marvel herself. You really want to do this?” he asks sinisterly. “You should be thanking us, not fighting us! We’re doing you a favor! Helping your brand!”

“I don’t want a brand. I want a purpose. And I want your nanotech Gatorade out of my city.”

Chuck brings out a gun that looks like it would be attached to a proton pack and calls it his new Automated Crowd Dispersal Device. His aim sucks, and Ms. Marvel leaps on him and slams him against the roof of the truck. Now Chuck finally gets nervous, begs her not to hurt him as he’s just lower-level management!

“I just need you to take a message to your bosses. Shut down the nanotech, decommission the security drones, and leave town. Or there are gonna be consequences.”

Chuck tells her they’re going to HQ right now! It’s a giant, non-descript, abandoned warehouse! Ms. Marvel gets zapped with Unconscious Rays and wakes up in the warehouse to a red-bearded businessman named Dr. Faustus. He welcomes her to the Hope Yards Development and Relocation Association. Now drop and give me twenty!

Wait a minute… Hope Yards… Development… H. Y. D. R. A.! Fuck!

And they’ve already recruited some very important people!

Bruno! You’ve got a stupid bowtie! …oh yeah, and you’re under a spell! That too!

Final Thoughts

What is it with Hydra, man? World domination is the goal for what reason? Being able to jerk off in public without getting arrested? Because that’s what it sure seems like to me.