Welcome to Loneliness & Cheeseburgers Presents: Ms. Marvel (Vol. 3), Issue #14 – “Crushed (Part 2)”! In the previous installment, Kamala becomes re-acquainted with a boy named Kamran whom she hasn’t seen since she was about five years old. He’s super attractive now, is very smart and into a lot of nerd shit, and Kamala fawns all over him.

During an outing, supervised by Aamir because a boy and a girl together alone will cause hellfire to burst from the ground and rain upon everyone in the universe, a weird Inhuman villain named Kaboom promises anarchy in Jersey City. Kamala becomes Ms. Marvel and almost punches her to death, literally, which freaks her the fuck out. When Kamran finds Kamala again, he pulls her aside to an alley to talk. She spills the beans about being a weird Inhuman freak. He reveals that he, too, is a weird Inhuman freak.

They will be weird Inhuman freaks together! Dawwww! *gags*

Ms. Marvel (Vol. 3), Issue #14 [June, 2015]
Written by: G. Willow Wilson
“Crushed (Part 2)”

We pick up RIGHT where we left off! Jersey City, New Jersey of course. Not like Gotham City or Metropolis or Saskatchewan or some other made-up place. Kamran and Kamala are still grasping hands, which would make Aamir shit his stupid pants right there on the street. “You… you’re Inhuman too?” Kamala boggles.

“All this time I thought I was alone…” she thinks. “That I was the only nerdy Pakistani-American-Slash-Inhuman in the entire universe.”

Kamran is like, yeah, I’m Inhuman too. What up?

He explains that it happened when his family moved back to Jersey City. He was unpacking boxes, he had the window open, then the mist came through the window. Long story short, his life was ruined forever! Kamala jumps for joy. They totally have this in common! Let’s celebrate with a little bit of penis in vagina and–

“HEY!” Aamir comes stomping to the alley. “First of all, that was way longer than ‘talking for two seconds’, and second of all, totally not cool.”

Kamran apologizes at the irate Aamir. Kamala yells at Aamir to mind his own beeswax. Aamir frumps and grumps and they all leave the alley together before the media circus arrives. Kaboom is getting strapped to a stretcher and loaded into an ambulance, moaning and groaning. She has a slipped disc, so lol.

Not often enough, if you ask me.

Later, Kamala sits cross-legged on her bed thinking about the long, weird, eventful, hormone-fueled day she just had… then her attention gets jolted by a pebble thrown at her window. It’s Kamran! Come out and play, he says! Sneak out of your house, he says! Go to Muslim Hell for your inevitable sinning, he says!

Kamala gets mad. Isn’t Kamran supposed to be some sort of rule-following goody-two-shoes mama’s boy? What the fuck is this bullshit?

Kamala gets less mad and hops out of the window. After a few pleasantries, Kamran grabs her hand. She looks at the grasped hands dreamily. “Come on, there’s something I want to show you,” he says, five nanoseconds away from unzipping his pants. He leads her to the top of a wooden water tower where they sit and admire the “lovely” Jersey City skyline. “It’s so beautiful up here,” Kamala says. “It’s like… it’s like a painting, only smoggier.”

“I think I might be in love,” she thinks to herself.

“I can’t believe I’ve never been up here before,” she tells Kamran, floored that she has never been on a water tower viewing the buildings before. “I thought I knew this whole city like the back of my hand.”

“Sometimes you need to see a place through new eyes in order to understand what you’ve missed,” Kamran responds seductively. Then they look at each other for about 45 minutes.

Yeah, show me your dick powers. Your dick powers, please.

Kamran shows Kamala his, erhm, powers. He turns into a swirling, invisible boy.

“Does it… do anything?” she asks him, poking him right in the forehead. “The glow? Or is it just, you know, mood lighting?”

“Yeah, it does stuff. Give me something you don’t care about and I’ll show you.”

“Does a dried-out old pen work?”

“Perfect. Check this out. Abra-cadabra.”

BOOM! Kamran throws the pen in the air and it explodes in a burst of flaming plastic pen shrapnel! Sort of. Pretty cool, nonetheless. Let’s try it with a cat next time.

Kamala is reminded of Kaboom, who had a similar kind of thing going on there. She frowns, remembering sadly that she totally almost murdered this woman. “Even though she was attacking other people… I feel pretty gross about it.” Kamran tells her not to feel bad. Kaboom picked a fight with the wrong mofo! He leans in for a kiss… She leans in for a kiss…

I’d laugh if Aamir came stomping up the water tower right now. It doesn’t happen though, unfortunately. What happens, though, is a fucking pig cop shines a flashlight on them. “Hey! This tower is on condemned property! You kids get down from there!”

A real mood killer, this piece of shit police officer. Kamran grabs Kamala’s hand and they run away. “I’ve broken more rules in the last twelve hours than in the previous sixteen years of my life combined… and it feels pretty great,” she thinks.

Is it implied that Kamran and Kamala kissed and boned? It’s the next morning already; I’m sure they kissed and boned. Aamir and Kamala are on the corner of Coles St. and Montgomery (you know the place), and Aamir is all fancied up for a job interview! Bruno meets up on the corner and calls Aamir “sharp” Daddio. Bruno notices that Kamala looks like she went to bed five minutes ago and woke up four minutes ago, to which Kamala rubs her eyes vigorously and grimaces exaggeratedly like a comic book character.

A job interview for what? Transponder at the Butt Factory? Not even a real thing, Aamir! You’ve been conned!

Kamran pulls up in his fancy car! Kamala jumps at the opportunity to get a ride while Aamir says some nonsense like “you guys are going to Super Double-Secret Hell for this”. Bruno opts to continue waiting for the bus in order to not be a cockblockin’ secretly-in-love-with-Kamala-type spaz.

Bruno asks Aamir what the fuck just happened. Aamir tells him that they only met yesterday. Bruno wonders why the fuck Kamala is getting rides from guys she only met yesterday. Aamir brings Bruno up to speed. “Kamala has known him for approximately ten minutes and she’s gone totally bonkers.”

“You mean… she likes him?” Bruno says, mouth agape, catching flies. He starts gibbering while Aamir facepalms. “Look. Okay. So – okay. Let’s have this conversation,” Aamir says to Bruno, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You and Kamala. It’s not gonna happen.”

Bruno takes a second to let this sink in and then asks Aamir what he’s talking about heh heh heh. So, look geek, their parents think Bruno is aces. Great guy. Lovely to be around. Like a nephew. They’d never be ok with a romantic intertwining of their daughter. First of all, you’re a white piece of shit. Second of all, shave your weird little teenager goatee.

Bruno mulls this over and shrinks a little. He knows that, deep down, but he just thought that maybe… possibly… someday… you know?… uh…

Aamir reminds them that they’re both stupid teenagers. Plus, he’s an Italian Catholic and she’s a Pakistani Muslim. Not exactly compatible. Bruno argues that this isn’t true – they’re very compatible, and… yeah, never mind. Aamir puts his hand on Bruno’s shoulder and says “tough titties, pal. She’s going to marry a Pakistani Muslim. End of story. Unless Abu and Ammi die! Until then, though, give up, son.”

After going into a whole spiel about passing down heritage and pride to grandchildren, Aamir tells Bruno that if he loved her he would want those things for her.

“But — I can’t not love her. I’ve tried,” Bruno whines.

“It was never gonna be easy, Bruno,” Aamir says as he boards a bus. “Love never is.”

*wacky transition music plays*

This is called a heel turn, kiddo! Look out!

Kamala is totally in a car alone with a boy! Far out, man! “I’ve never been driven to school before by somebody who wasn’t a first-degree biological relative,” she fawns. Then she realizes that Kamran isn’t driving toward the school. Then she realizes they’re driving toward the harbor. Then he says something to the effect of “skip class, you hoser.”

To this, Kamala freaks out a little bit. She’s got homework and quizzes and labs and pencils and paper and teachers and lockers! Kamran says that her destiny as an Inhuman is bigger than some nerd school. Kamala gets mad and asks him to stop the car. He stops the car in some really shitty-looking part of town. “I want you to meet someone very important to me,” he tells her. Then he tells her stop being so uptight, queen. “Look, what if Kaboom was right? Why should we hide what we are and play by the rules of society that wasn’t built for us?”

Kamala looks at him thoughtfully. Then she gets mad when he spouts off some nonsense about being better than real humans.

“It’s time for Ms. Marvel to take her rightful place with the rest of the Inhuman family,” Kamran continues. Oh hell no, son. That sounds like some Final Solution bullcocky. Kamala starts storming off going all “I thought I liked you” and “This is totally unchill, bro”, but Kamran touches the back of her head and zaps her into blissful unconsciousness.

She wakes up in small room with purple lights and metal walls. She spots a control panel and decides to press a random button, which earns her an electrical shock. “Fine,” she says, growing her mighty fists into mightier fists. “If I can’t get out the polite way – I’ll get out the embiggened way.”

She punches her way through the steel door with ease and says hi to the lumpy guards. Then she beats them up handily. Then she runs, scrambling to look for someone she knows that can explain what’s going on to her.

Then she gets zapped in the back by some clown.

She’s just one more shock away from curing her schizophrenia! Modern science for the win yet again!

“You’re right, Kamran. She’s very persistent… Hello Kamala. My name is Lineage. If you cooperate, no one else needs to get hurt.”

Lineage looks like a red devil wearing an octopus tentacle hat. He wears a tan suit, like the worst incarnation of Obama.

Final Thoughts

Ohhhhh boy! More Inhumanity Insanity awaits Kamala Khan as she kills her way through more bitches. I hope she dunks Kamran’s head in the toilet.

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).