Welcome to Loneliness & Cheeseburgers Presents: Ms. Marvel (Vol. 3), Issue #13 – “Crushed (Part 1)”! In the previous standalone installment, Loki travels to Jersey City to try scoping out the local high school for signs of spies friendly with the Inventor! What ends up happening is that he feeds kids a bunch of truth serum during a Valentine’s Day dance! Woozle wuzzle!

That’s really it. The real storyline starts here, baby. Buckle up! Kamala Khan’s gonna stick a giant fist up your butt.

Ms. Marvel (Vol. 3), Issue #13 [May, 2015]
Written by: G. Willow Wilson
“Crushed (Part 1)”

New Attilan. Hudson River. New Jersey. You can see the big eyesore that is the Statue of Liberty. “So it’s been a great few weeks. The Inventor is out of the picture, I managed to get an A- in Social Studies – and I kept this Viking magician dude named Loki from ruining a school dance.”

Such is the life of your average mild-mannered teenage girl! Kamala Khan is now training with some giant, blue, spiky, three-eyed beast at the local Inhuman gym. Honing the old fighting skills just in case she has to stick a giant fist up your butt. I mean, you keep bringing that up. Maybe you want it?

Queen Medusa sits aside with Lockjaw, Kamala’s giant dog-like Inhmuan dog creature, while robots with lasers chase Kamala around the room. Medusa worries that the rise of the many new Inhumans from the Terrigen Mists is going to result in shitty human beings using their powers for Bad. This is basically an X-Men thing, right?

I remember back in one of the old issues, I don’t remember which one anymore, that the Inhuman Powers That Be wanted Kamala to live with them on the Inhuman Island Resort with all the other rejects. Medusa says it’s safer here with all the giant laser robots. I’m not so sure!

Later that day on Grove Street, home of the Khans, Kamala stumbles home looking like she just outran robots for seventeen hours. Under the guise of “jogging”, no less, which is not something teenage nerds usually do with their spare time. I would be suspicious if I were Ammi or Abu instead of not suspicious like they seem to be. “I still don’t like the idea of you running around in the street, puffing and sweating. It’s not decent,” says Ammi. Then she tells her daughter to sit the fuck down and have breakfast before their visitors arrive. Aunty Bushra and Uncle Irfan! From Houston! They have a son named Kamran who is about Kamala’s age, so they’re going to grope inappropriately in about six pages for sure.

Yeah, where he will major in nose-pickin’.

Kamala glumly slouches at the table. She doesn’t want to hang out with some nose-picking creep. She’s supposed to meet Bruno and Nakia at the arcade later so they can shake down little kids for quarters. Abu says “fuck you” and tells her tough shit. So Kamala glumly storms off to her room and gets ready for company. “Early admission to MIT. One day, Ammi is going to parade these kinds of guys through the living room, hoping to extract a marriage proposal.” Sounds good to me, I’ll marry some MIT nerd for his money. I’ll do it right now if you want.

Kamala glumly descends the stairs where a conversation with the new arrivals is already in play. Apparently, these people aren’t really related. They’re just called “Aunty” and “Uncle” for thrills and spills, so it’s completely ok that Kamala takes one look at this sexy kid, who mentions loving World of Battlecraft, and she just about throws her underwear at him. Not so glum anymore, are we?

“Hi. You must be Kamala,” he says, looking like a stunning hunk of man. Kamala blushes profusely. “Did you just say ‘World of Battlecraft’? What faction do you play? Which class?” she effuses dorkily. He says he plays a minotaur wizard. They hit it off before Abu can even tell his orgasming daughter to sit down. It’s a match made in heaven.

They talk about eating gyros and running through dungeons while cranking the volume on old, shitty Bollywood movies. The rest of the room frowns all confused-like. Right away, Kamran discusses wanting to hit the local FYE-type Marvel Comics equivalent entertainment store and check out some DVDs of old, shitty Bollywood movies. Would the fair Kamala like to join him on this romantic excursion?

Abu says absolutely not! Two young children of opposite sexes out together alone? There could be fucking! Bring your lazy, degenerate brother with you Kamala. He loves being shiftless out in public! Abu is extremely uneasy about this, but gives in because he’s big and fat and can’t chase them down the street even if he really wanted to.

The word “woot” is really showing your age, G. Willow Wilson.

A couple of hours later, on Newark Ave., three kids are just kidding around, you know? Kamran and Kamala chat it up while Aamir looks like he wants to find a dark corner and jerk off sadly. It turns out these two have a whole lot in common! Kamala’s eyes are larger than I’ve ever seen them, pupils dilated like she’s tripping balls! They slowly start moving their hands toward each other’s as they walk… Kamala is so excited to feel the infatuation… then Aamir butts up right between them. “Maintain a three-foot gap at all times, please, and thank you,” he says smirking. Kamala loses her fucking shit, dude. “When a man and a woman are alone together, the third is Shaytan!” he continues smugly. Just because Aamir doesn’t get any pussy doesn’t mean he gets to cockblock the innocent! What a jerk.

Suddenly, a large BOOM is heard in the distance! Someone has landed roughly onto the street, crumbling the road. “ANARCHY IN THE 201” screams a lady who is surrounded by blue bolts of electricity. “Stay out of my way, or you’re gonna get a kilowatt right to the head! Jersey City is under new management!”

Then this new villain hops along the sidewalk, blowing up chunks of concrete with each landing. Kamran helps the fallen Aamir up, and they both notice that Kamala has disappeared! Oh snap! I wonder where she—oh look there’s Ms. Marvel out of nowhere.

“Here’s how it’s gonna be, people,” declares Anarchy Girl. “This is the beginning of a new age – an age when we stop living by rules made by lesser minds for lesser beings. You can call me ‘Kaboom.’ Stay down, or you’re gonna get a kilowatt of right to the head!” she repeats.

Ms. Marvel is like NOT SO FAST, SUCKA and belts out some tough girl shit. Kaboom has heard of Ms. Marvel, but Ms. Marvel has never heard of Kaboom. Upper hand goes to Ms. Marvel already!

Behold, my glowing ball of electricity! I can charge so many iPhones with this!

While Kaboom revs up her energy ball, Ms. Marvel grows her fist to the size of Kansas and punches Kaboom right in the abdomen, sending her flying. Kaboom gets salty like a pretzel! “You wanna waste your time defending this subspecies from itself? Fine.” To this, Ms. Marvel is incredulous! SUB-species?? Humans are at least a step up above millipedes!

They fight a bit, and Ms. Marvel continues having the upper hand. All like “THIS IS MY TURF” and “BEAT IT”. Kaboom tells Ms. Marvel that the Inhumans will be taking over the planet soon for the better. Ms. Marvel gapes at this and wonders how Queen Medusa would ever let some bitch like Kaboom go around Jersey City terrorizing the human subspecies. Those poor animals.

Kaboom had an inkling that Ms. Marvel was one of the Inhumans. Well, face the facts, sister: Medusa ain’t the only one in charge! Some of them are cool. Some of them are nerds. A lot of them are nerds, actually, but it’s the cool ones that are gonna get shit done around here.

“I don’t understand,” says Ms. Marvel.

“Very soon, you will,” responds Kaboom. Then she shoves an energy ball directly into Ms. Marvels unprotected face, sending her into epileptic seizures that burns holes into her brain, rendering her in a vegetative state forever! Then she gets up off the ground and brushes herself off a bit.

Then she really fists her good.

Nothing that irreparable blunt force trauma to the brain and spinal cord won’t fix!

And while Kaboom goes flying, knocked out cold, Ms. Marvel stares in horror at what she has just done. She basically killed the lady. While the crowd rushes up to Kaboom to tend her to near-decapitation, Ms. Marvel panics and runs the fuck away. “Just when I was starting to get comfortable with the idea of being Inhuman… I found out that even aliens have their fanatical extremists.”

Kamran watches as the Marvelous Ms. Marvel books it down an alley.

“Kamala!” screeches Aamir. “Wave if you can see me! KAMALA!”

Kamala waves when she can see him. Flapping like a bird, actually. Aamir rushes over to give her a hug, but she’s still shaken over punching a woman into a coma. Kamran requests a moment alone with Kamala if possible, but Aamir goes “THIS IS FUCKING BULLSHIT, YOU CANNOT SPEND 45 NANOSECONDS ALONE WITH A FEMALE” but Kamran pulls Kamala down an alley anyway.

“Listen — I’ve had a great time today, and… and because of that, I think there’s something you should know.”

This is where Kamala will start getting dick pics.

“I saw you. In the alley. Just now.”

Well shit.

Kamala starts stammering, trying to explain herself, trying to insist that she didn’t ask for the powers and she didn’t know what to do and now she’s Inhuman and arrrrrgghhh, TEENAGE YEARS! Am I right?

Kamran turns his head into a weird swirly water thing.

“It’s okay. I am too.”

An Inhuman, that is. Sorry, he didn’t specify.

Final Thoughts

Oh boy, the hot young love interest has superpowers too. I hope their respective abilities won’t get in the way of their extremely taboo lovemaking on the hallway floor next to Ammi and Abu’s bedroom (where no sex happens at all ever, of course).