Welcome to Loneliness & Cheeseburgers Presents: Ms. Marvel (Vol. 4), Issue #10! In the previous installment, the Cadets detain Josh at a secret warehouse on the waterfront, and Kamala’s friends aren’t happy with the arrangement! You shouldn’t lock up a kid who was planning to blow up the school before he even blows up the school! You have to wait until after the school is blown up before you can all celebrate and give the kid a trophy!

In the middle of the night, Bruno attempts to bust Josh outta da joint with an explosive device. It explodes, which was its intended action, but now Bruno is on the edge of death! Ms. Marvel is stricken!

Is Bruno actually dead? Did he go to the big Circle Q in the sky? Read on to find out! Or don’t. I don’t care either way.

Ms. Marvel (Vol. 4), Issue #10 [October, 2016]
Written by: G. Willow Wilson

Flashback to nine years ago, Kamala “Harris” Khan’s first day of 2nd grade. She’s crying as she enters the room because she wants to watch Tween Mutant Samurai Turtles instead of learning about fractions and eating paste.

Abu drags her useless daughter into the classroom and immediately notices a fetid odor. The teacher tells him to shush, she doesn’t want to embarrass the tall kid in the back with the poopy pants. You see him over there? Bruno Carrelli? He hasn’t had a bath in probably 4 years because his parents are deadbeats. Drug problems and what-have-you. “His grandparents have been granted custody. Nice people, but – they’re scrambling to make ends meet.”

Bruno’s grandparents haven’t been paying activity fees, so smelly little Bruno isn’t going on the next field trip. Abu will gladly pay his way, but the teacher says that ONLY RELATIVES CAN PAY FOR THE—oooooh, cash money! Of course it’s good here, Mr. Khan.

“Kamala, go play with the nice little boy in the corner,” says Ammi.

“You mean the stinky one?!” she yelps.

“Never say such an unkind thing again,” Ammi responds coldly. Then she lays the “great-grandma walked from Mumbai to Karachi” guilt on her, so be grateful for what you have.

Kamala drags her giant winged pig stuffed animal thing to the table and says hi to Bruno. Bruno says that she doesn’t have to sit there if she doesn’t want. She notices that he’s wearing a Tween Mutant Samurai Turtles t-shirt! He notices that she’s wearing these totally boss bangles on her arm! Bruno calls them pretty. AND THE REST IS HISTORY!

*end credits*

Final Thoughts

My final thoughts are going to stretch the rest of the comic, ok? Anyway, cut to the present and Bruno’s unconscious in a hospital bed with a little toy Spider-Man next to him. He’s all banged up and wretched-looking. Ms. Marvel sits in a chair, willing him to wake up. The homely nurse, who looks like if Conan O’Brien had been injected with Don Imus’ DNA, walks in and lets Ms. Marvel know that Bruno has third-degree burns on the left side of his body. “If he lives, he might walk again, with physical therapy, but there’ll be some lingering paralysis on his left side.”

Ms. Marvel flees out of the hospital, thinking to herself that it’s time to stop acting like she’s playing superhero and start acting like she’s actually a superhero! No more Ms. Nice Gal.

ATTACK OF THE 50-FT WOMAN!! RRAAWWWRR!!

Meanwhile, the Cadets are looking at the ruins of the exploded warehouse. “What a wreck,” says Becky St. Jude. “Base of operations destroyed, prisoners escaped, police and press crawling all over the place. It’s like people don’t want a safer world.”

Ms. Marvel makes a very conspicuous entrance, as you can plainly see, and starts chewing a few bitches out. Immediately, she asks why Ulysses knew Josh was going to blow up the school, but not that Bruno was going to end up in a coma trying to free him? Becky says that it doesn’t work like that! It only works in ways that are convenient for the story! So keep up. “Trying to override an electromagnetic lock with more electricity is just dumb, especially for a genius,” she argues.

After a back-and-forth, it’s decided that it’s all Ms. Marvel’s fault for authorizing Josh’s detention. Well, Ms. Marvel may be completely 100% at fault for the eventual untimely death of Stinky Bruno, but she has the power to put a stop to everything here and now!

“You can’t do that,” complains Becky as her posse strikes smug and threatening poses. “We’ve been doing good work here in Jersey City. Major crime is down 20%. You’re letting yourself get distracted by collateral damage.”

“Collateral damage” my big fat behind, sister. Ms. Marvel says walk the fuck away now or there will be giant fists in your future. But Becky is ready for such altercations. She hits a button on her wrist and dons a shiny, transparent suit of armor. Ms. Marvel calls it “cute” until Becky rams into her belly at full force. Then it’s, like, “shit”.

Of course, Ms. Marvel doesn’t get too incapacit—oh wait.

Well ain’t this development a kick in the ol’ teeth? We’ve found our Big Bad, folks!

“Plasma armor. Custom made. Isn’t it awesome?” Becky brags as Ms. Marvel pants heavily on the ground. Then, while Becky’s posse is like “hmmm, maybe we should just take a step back and–”, Ms. Marvel punches Becky in the belly with a giant fist.

Now that fighting is actually happening, the Cadets wonder what they should do. It’s decided to call Captain Marvel. She’ll put a stop to this chicanery.

“You know what I’ve always thought is funny about your powers?” says Becky, throwing a punch. “You exert so much force that you have to spend as much time trying not to hurt people as you actually do fighting.” Hey, that’s not that funny! I was expecting something funny! Do you see me laughing??

Ms. Marvel shrinks to the size of a rat within a wink and climbs up to Becky’s wrist, pulling wires out of the armor controller device. She beefs back up and is about to perform a finishing blow, when the loud, booming, L. Ron Hubbard-type voice of Captain Marvel says “Stand down, Junior!”

Captain Marvel demands an explanation tout suite. Everyone shuffles sheepishly. Then Ms. Marvel grows some cahones and tells her mentor that this predictive justice thing isn’t working for her. “We’re not creating fewer victims of crime – we’re just creating different victims.” She requests the disbanding of the Cadets, but Captain Marvel doesn’t want to do that just yet. Predictive justice is working, you’re just being a close-minded asshole about it, little miss!

Anyway, can she still count on her to follow through with the program? Great! Thanks! Bye! And Captain flies away, leaving Ms. conflicted and hurt.

“You heard the boss… back to work,” sneers Becky. Yeah, back to work all right. You’ll see how this “work” shakes out, Basic Bitch.

Out of my way! Diarrhea time!

“Changing the future is a big responsibility,” says Becky as Ms. Marvel runs away. “Some people are too sentimental to handle it.” She calls Ms. Marvel “weak” and that Captain Marvel can see the weakness in her, too. “It’s only a matter of time before they’re at each other’s throats. And that’s when I’ll make my move.”

Oh, Becky. I’ve seen your “moves”. You look like a rubber chicken hooked up to a car battery, girl. Very uncoordinated.

Later that evening, Ms. Marvel ruminates upon confronting Captain Marvel about how flawed predictive justice really is. That it can be rigged. That everyone can go to jail that way. And then the jails will be overcrowded. And then people will die. And the world will blow up. And God isn’t real. That sort of catastrophizing can really put someone in a tizzy!

She runs out in the middle of a random street and calls out for Hijinx, who doesn’t answer her call. When she’s about to walk away dejected, Hijinx tackles her to the ground and tells her “no!” NO NO NO! Whatever you want, NO!

“What if I said I want you to plan a crime?” Ms. Marvel says seductively. And Hijinx is very intrigued, to say the least!

That night, Kamala visits Bruno, who is still comatose like a loser. “GLRMZTF” he says, but not really. “Bruno? It’s me. You gotta wake up. Everybody’s freaking out.” Then she tells him that she’s trying to fix her mistakes, and that she’s taken a lot of her friends for granted lately. As she cries, an alarm goes off.

“Clear the room! He’s crashing!” yells Conan O’Don Imus. Weak pulse! Broom in the butthole! He needs surgery NOW!

Kamala looks sad!

OK, final thoughts for real this time.

Final Thoughts

Remember when you were a kid and your best friend almost blew himself up to death and you were struggling with a moral dilemma around incarcerating criminals before they even committed crimes? Ahhh, high school…