All New X-Men (Vol. 1), Issue #8

* Part 3 of 5 of the Here to Stay storyline *

Welcome to Loneliness & Cheeseburgers Presents: All-New X-Men (Vol. 1) Issue #8! In the previous installment, Cyclops runs away to Manhattan and takes a bunch of items out of his – Old Cyclops’ – safety deposit box. Among the hundreds of dollars and some nifty ‘80s red sunglasses, he finds an invitation to his and Jean Grey’s wedding. Everyone makes sad faces.

A lot of the issue involved Raven Jennifer Lawrence showing up to manipulate the fuck out of Scott Summers because, as she later puts it so eloquently about the X-Men, “screw them”.

With Cyclops appropriately neutered and the rest of the Young X-Men slowly getting adjusted, it’s hard to say exactly where this is all going right now! My guess is the toilet.

All New X-Men (Vol. 1), Issue #8 [May, 2013]
Written by: Brian Michael Bendis

All-New X-Men (Vol. 1), Issue #8

“Isn’t this the best?” Angel asks Young Angel, flap flap flapping his metal wings. “Remember all the time we spent with our wings tucked in our blazers?! We used to do that, right?”

“Could you slow down?” Young Angel puffs, flap flap flapping his feathery wings. “Why won’t you tell me what has happened to you?”

Angel grabs Young Angel by the arm. “Man, was Warren always like this? You’re like a coiled spring.”

Huh? Buh? But, but but but, but but, but you’re Warren too! Hubba what? “Well, huh, see, this is going to be hard for you. Warren was – I mean, we were born Warren but we are… Angel. I’m Angel. We – we’re Angel.”

THAT CLEARS IT UP! Not suspicious at all, really, if you squint and plug your ears. But hey, kid, Angel is just geeked to be seeing the “old model”, as if Young Angel was eventually destroyed and rebuilt by nanobots and replicants.

Before Young Angel has a chance to freak out even more, they both spot a raging inferno in the distance right at the location of Avengers Tower. Maybe Iron Man was cooking bacon naked next to a pile of oily rags?

“Your orders are clear. Let the world know that we are back!! HAIL HYDRA!” A really hot lady wearing a metal green Hydra suit rallies a team of similarly clad Hydra clan members. “Let them know that we are here to burn down this disgusting police state!” Fuck yeah, lady. I’m hella on board! I don’t know who wouldn’t be!

All New X-Men (Vol. 1), Issue #8

We should call the Coast Guard! We should call the Ghostbusters! We should call Sly and the Family Stone!

Oh, I guess Angel wouldn’t be. He tackles this lady to the ground. Just because she and her team are burning down Avengers Tower doesn’t mean she’s bad. I can see an upside to it, honestly! “Whoops, sorry to interrupt your villainous rant! You were really building to something there.” And then he starts beating up other Hydra grunts.

Fuck you, Angel. You didn’t save shit. You got in the way, big time. No wonder no one else is showing up. “Uh, um, Avengers assemble?” Angel says as he continues getting swarmed by Hydra soldiers. “That’s a thing, right?” Are these Hydra fools serious? The Avengers aren’t even home! “Are you beating up an empty building?”

Meanwhile, Young Angel is getting chased around like a little punk. Angel helps him with confidence, because Young Angel can’t die! If Young Angel dies, then Older Angel wouldn’t exist! So no matter how little he actually helps, he’s in the clear.

Unless Older Angel is the one who dies… but we’ll worry about that part later.

Angel continues taunting Hydra, poorly I might add. Stuff like “Tony Stark’s gonna call his lawyer!” and “Nice green color, idiots.”

Young Angel really wants backup here. “Can we call the rest of the X-Men now?” he begs. “Sure,” Older Angel replies, “do you have a phone?”

Har har. Hot Hydra Lady is like “no no no no this can’t be” while the Hydra shits tries to fill Young Angel full of fiery ballistics! One of his wings gets singed, and now it’s personal…

…but he gets thrown to the ground and flanked by five Hydra robots. “Target surrounded. He’s a kid,” one says. “He’s a mutant! Execute him!” says another. Sounds like a coin toss here. Kid or mutant? Call it now or forever hold your peace.

They try to blow Young Angel up, but it doesn’t work. This kind of shit never works. The guns on the Hydra ships go like “SCABAMSCABAMSCABAM”, which is terrible gun onomatopoeia. Try this next time: BLAM BAM BOOM POW HONK SQUEAK

All New X-Men (Vol. 1), Issue #8

Heaven sucks anyway. It’s all just clouds and religious people.

“Two of them and a hundred of you!” Hydra Lady says, rallying the troops. She pulls out a gun the size of a boom box and revs it up, ready to blast these Angel bitches to kingdom come.

…and then the motherfucking Avengers show up to ruin my X-Men comic book. Hawkeye, Hulk, Captain America, Thor, and some lady that isn’t Black Widow or Scarlet Witch. She shoots fire. Does Scarlet Witch shoot fire? Someone call Elizabeth Olsen.

The Angels let the Avengers do the fighting for a bit. Older Angel offers to heal Younger Angel, but Younger Angel is like “Healing powers?! Riddikulus!” Then Thor shows up to thank them for defending their home, which has likely already burned to the ground by now.

“You know there’s two of you, right?” Hawkeye observes observantly.

“Why are there two of you?” Cap asks with his trademark big dumb expression on his face.

Let’s return to the Jean Grey School for “Higher” Learning where the Avengers decide to cramp their style and land their awful, probably really loud, jet onto the front lawn. “Henry, may I speak to you for a moment?” Captain America says, barging into the school like he owns the place. The X-Men aren’t having it. They don’t give seven fucks, let alone two, let alone one fuck, what Captain America has to tell them, but they have a pretty good guess: “Don’t mess with the space-time continuum, guys. Come on, now.”

While Beast speaks with Cap, Iceman and Kitty Pryde mock Cap while Kitty Pryde tries to hide her laughter. “’Don’t talk to me with your double-talking space science jibber-jabber! I’m from 1940! I don’t understand how you people do it with your Model T Fords and your ladies that walk around with your arms uncovered!”

Young Scott decides to be diplomatic. He marchs right over to Captain America and gives him a piece of his mind!

…

“Hello, Captain. I’ve been studying up on recent events. I realize that you and I have found ourselves on different sides of the fence on a lot of issues. I wanted to let you know that I plan on doing everything I can to make it right. I hope you give me the chance.”

Well, that was unexpected! The Avengers just stand there boggling at him, most of all Cap with his resting boggled face. Wolverine gives him a rare smile. “Nicely done.”

All New X-Men (Vol. 1), Issue #8

OK, well, I specifically said “please” so let’s try this again.

All Beast can do is try to keep Cap in the loop, whatever the loop actually might be. The time loop? Because we’re all in the time loop, sonny.

The Avengers fuck off in their jet mere moments before a very screechy alarm goes off in Beast’s lab. They deduce that it’s Young Warren and he’s going to mess with the Time Cube! Is this the first mention of the Time Cube? What the hell is the Time Cube? I don’t remember the Time Cube!

Young Warren is scrambling to manually override the TIME CUBE and turn off the alarm, but a couple of meddling X-Men run into the lab.

“What are you doing?” asks Young Scott.

“I’m going home,” responds Young Warren. “I don’t like it here.”

No! You have to stay, we’re all in this together! Well, Scott says we’re all in this together. Some of us don’t want to be all in this together, clearly. “Have you seen me?” Warren cries. “Have you seen what I’ve become? Something really bad happened to me. I don’t want to be here.” Tears streaming down his cheeks, he yells that he doesn’t want to do any of this anymore. He wants to quit the school, get far, far away from “you people”.

Mid-rant, Young Warren suddenly stops. The others stare at him. Warren continues being still and silent. “Is he having a stroke?” Iceman asks. Then Young Warren perks up with a giant smile on his face. “What’s for lunch?” he asks. “Is anybody else starving? I’m starving?”

Jean Grey walks into the room, having just dug herself deep into Young Warren’s brain and messed with his neurons and dopamine levels or some such.

All New X-Men (Vol. 1), Issue #8

Nothing to see here. Do not adjust your TV set. Big brother isn’t watching. Keep calm and carry on. What’s good for the goose is good for the gander. Ten-four, good buddies.

“You’re not allowed to go digging into people’s minds and just change them for your own reason?” Young Hank says sternly.

“Henry, don’t you of all people start lecturing me on using your God-given things for selfish purposes.” That’s a fair point. Hank does use his God-given dick for selfish reasons constantly.

“I can read your minds,” Grey says, walking away. “Stop worrying. I’m in total control.”

Everyone looks very worried.

Final Thoughts

Jean Grey is the bad guy! Someone kill her before it’s too late, lmao lol.


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Fray, Issue #2 – “Chapter Two: The Calling”

* Part 2 of 8 of the Fray limited series *

Welcome to Buffyness and Nightlurkers Presents: Fray, Issue #2 – “Chapter Two: The Calling”! In the previous installment, we meet Melaka Fray: a young woman from the slum of future-Manhatten who makes her money stealing trinkets and baubles from rich people and selling them to semi-friendly radiation-mutated mermaid-type creatures.

Meanwhile, there are murmurings among demons and other ungodly creatures that this young Fray woman is the Chosen One. Sound familiar? A man visits her particular slum and tells her this information before self-immolating, which was weird. And then the issue ends with Fray entering her apartment, and a giant horned demon awaits. He’s probably going to be rather cordial. That’s what I usually expect from a Joss Whedon demon.

It’s good so far! I just started, but I’m looking forward to the next… *checks count* … 232 Buffyverse comics? Holy shitfuck, dude. That’s going to take me years! Decades! Maybe I should read them without writing about them like a normal person.

Haha! Just cracked myself up.

Fray, Issue #2 [July, 2001]
Written by: Joss Whedon
“Chapter Two: The Calling”

Fray, Issue #2

“Don’t scream,” Fray thinks as she slowly glances behind her. The enormous demon looks quite snarly, like my ex-girlfriend! HAHAHA! I’ve never had one of those! “Don’t think. Think equals scream.”

She tries to slink away, but the demon grabs her by the leg and smashes her onto the top of her desk. Miraculously unhurt, she grabs her blast gun and jumps back up. “You’ll be wanting to back off about now,” she tells the beast, gun trained on him. The demon calls her a fool. He’s Urkonn! Urkonn of the D’Avvrus! “Bullets cannot harm me.”

Well, Urkonn of D’Avvrus, Melaka Fray doesn’t even know what a bullet is! She blasts him in the face with a burst of electricity. The beast goes down! Fray thinks this just bought her an hour, but Urkonn gets back up almost immediately and tackles her through the wall of the side of her high-rise. They plummet to the roof of a smaller building below. She maneuvers so that she lands on him when they crash, breaking her own fall. This is also fruitless to stop him.

“You are a fool!” he bellows, leaping at Fray again. “I am not trying to kill you!” Urkonn pins her down to the floor, looking like he’s about to kill her. But since he’s not trying to kill her, he doesn’t kill her!

“You attacked me,” she points out to him.

“You were fleeing. I tried to stop you.”

“By pushing me through a wall?”

“You hurt me. I got angry.”

He looks sad. She still looks skeptical of his motives.

“I was sent to train you,” Ukronn says. “To prepare you for the coming battle. You are the Chosen One, Melaka Fray. It is your destiny to lead humankind in the war against the vampires.”

Pffft. Hey, Joss Whedon, you one-trick pony, way to just make Future Buffy.

Fray looks nonplussed.

Fray, Issue #2

It’s like a chicken sandwich, except less tasty and more like a human who sucks your blood.

Elsewhere, a vampire named Icarus has just munched on a young woman’s neck. The three Lurks from Issue #1 approach him with good news! They have a necklace with the emerald pendants. I don’t know how they got this, but maybe Gunther is involved? At any rate, Icarus is pleased. “He’ll want this right away,” he says as he walks out of the large chamber through a corridor. The Lurks wish he stuck around for a celebration, but he’s been no fun anymore since he started answering to him. Whoever HE is. I don’t know yet. Probably David Boreanaz.

While this big, muscle-y Lurk talks shit about Icarus, Icarus pops back into the chamber like a magic trick, scowling. The Lurk starts gibbering and back-pedaling. But it doesn’t work. “Your little finger,” Icarus says to him. “Bite it off.”

Sir, yes sir! Let me just put some ketchup on this and CRUNCH. Delicious.

“You want me to fight Lurks,” Fray says to Urkonn. It wasn’t a question. Yes, she needs to fight what she calls “Lurks”. “It is your destiny,” Urkonn says, which is something that Fray is probably going to hear a lot from this point forward. “I don’t know who set you up to this, but tell them nice try. Go spin someone else.”

Nope! This Urkonn fellow is a straight-shooter. All integrity. He wouldn’t lie to nobody! Go out and start slaying, Slayer. It is your destiny and whatnot. Fray continues denying her destiny, but Urkonn knows that she knows. He knows she knows he knows she knows. She has dreams. He knows she has dreams. “In every dream you have great power. In every dream you fight them. The ones you call Lurks.”

Fray denies that she knows what he’s talking about, but she knows. I know she knows. I know he knows she knows, too. And he knows she knows he knows. Now that that’s settled, we can move on to brass tacks! Start slaying!

“Every Slayer is psychically linked to those that came before. It always has been thus.” He continues to convince her. She’s stubborn. “Then I guess I’m not your guy.”

He asks her where she thinks her strength and abilities come from. She says that she’s just “good at stuff”. He says she has skills beyong normal mortals. She says that she’s just “good at stuff”.

“How do you explain me?” Urkonn puts on his best scowly sneer, which isn’t as intimidating anymore now that we know he’s sort of a friendly kinda guy! “I am not of your reality. Is not my visage strange to you?”

Nope! She works for a guy who swims under a glass floor. Ain’t nothing surprises her anymore. “Take a look at the world, Horn-Boy. You’re not gonna convince me you’re special by playing the ugly card.

He’s starting to get frustrated.

Fray, Issue #2

Look on the bright side. She keeps a clean house.

I forget Melaka’s sister’s name. She’s copping around with her partner, flying in their fancy flying cop car. Her partner’s name is Broder, and he tells her to stop hounding her sister. She tells him to cork it.

Her name is Erin, that’s right. A much better name than Melaka. Through them I learn that Melaka is 19, and she’s doing all this stupid dangerous stuff partly because it pisses Erin off! That’s healthy.

“And knowing how much it rips you means she’s never gonna stop,” Broder tells her.

“She doesn’t stop, she’ll kill someone else. Maybe on purpose this time,” she replies, sighing. I’m looking forward to seeing who this broad killed. Probably David Boreanaz.

Down in Versi, that milky-eyed armless girl is trying to convince a couple of boys that Melaka Fray is The Man. She’s a hero and she could knock your head of with one dang punch! “My dad says she’s a pump on steroids, and she does whoring and stuff,” says a particularly dumpy, bowl-haired kid. “That’s ‘cause your dad tried to make with her and got stomped,” the girl retorts. Plus there was that time that Melaka stole medicine for her and didn’t make her mom pay nuthin’! Salt of the earth!

“No Slayer has ever turned her back on her duty.”

“I can’t believe you’re still talking!”

Fray, Issue #2

Are we talking side show-type freaks, or the James Franco and Seth Rogen-type freaks?

Urkonn is having problems here. Chosen One or no Chosen One, find some other gal. “If you don’t stand, they will overrun your world,” Urkonn warns.

Obviously, Fray doesn’t understand what the big deal is. Lurks are a bunch of annoying motherfuckers, not anything to even bother with. Huff and puff!

A beeping robot flies like a bullet through the giant hole in her apartment wall. She grabs it, calls it a carrier pigeon. “Means I got a job,” she tells Urkonn. Urkonn is amazed that there are no computers on Earth anymore, but Fray tells him that’s some hoity-toity Uppers business.

Another grab from Gunther! Time to skedaddle! “Our business is not finished,” Urkonn says rather patiently. Oh yes it is, scumbag! You better be out of here before she gets back, and she counted the beers in the fridge so don’t even think about it.

Before leaping out the building, Fray tells him that he hopes he has a backup plan, because she’s not getting involved in any of this Slayer stuff whatsoever. “We do,” Urkonn mutters of the backup plan, “It would not please you.”

Gunther’s newest job is a good reprieve from the last 40 hours of getting talked at by some Hell Jerk. She seems hesistant about her confidence. “Guy attacked me, then tells me I’m supposed to be fighting Lurks… not that I couldn’t… I haven’t met an ass I couldn’t kick… It’s just…”

Nope, we don’t get to hear the end of that thought. She at the museum where she needs to steal yet another trinket. She sprays the room with mist to find the locations of the security lasers, then approaches a little stone head encased in glass. Much to her surprise, an alarm gets tripped as she lifts the object off of it’s pedestal with string. Running to the exit as fast as she can, she finds a guard getting his neck chewed up by a big, buff, burly vampire! I mean, Lurk! Why am I capitalizing Lurk, anyway? Because I have respect for them, that’s why.

She has a sudden flashback of telling a guy named Harth to run. Her face is full of blood. The flashback is over in one panel. It’s a continuation of the single-panel flashback from Issue #1, where she is running with the guy. We’ll get more pieces of this scene to come, I’m sure.

The blood-faced Lurk tackles Fray to the floor, eyes looking hungry. “The pain is good,” she thinks. “The pain wakes me up.” She elbows him in the face, but, unphased, he gnashes his teeth into her arm. “Oh god… he was… sucking…” she thinks, horrified, before picking him up over her head and throwing him against a large glass obelisk. He’s all sharded up and incapacitated.

Feeling the thrill of BEING ALIVE, she returns to her apartment building where Urkonn still waits on the roof.

Fray, Issue #2

It’s like a chicken sandwich…

Final Thoughts

MELAKA ENTERING THE FRAY, as it were. She’s going to learn all about pointy wooden sticks. She’s in for a real treat.


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The Great Hunt (Book 2) – Prologue: “In the Shadow”

The Wheel of Time - Book 2 - The Great Hunt

Welcome back to my soon-to-be-but-not-really-complete read of the Wheel of Time series! After a brief hiatus, I’m back to tackle the land of *checks book* … the world where this takes place doesn’t have a name. But don’t worry about that! We can just all it “Ohio”. Let’s continue with the prologue of The Great Hunt.

The man who calls himself Bors is a man who calls himself Bors. He will call himself Bors until the end of the prologue. He’s in a room with hundreds of other people. A door opens, and a scary Myrddraal enters the room! Those are those Ultra-Trollocs who have +4 armor bonuses and can cleft your butt in twain. Even more twain than it already is!

Oh ho ho, but it’s not just a Myrddraal who enters the Royal Chamber of Awful Men (and Women). It’s You-Know-Who himself! He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named! It’s the Wheel of Time’s Voldemort. Ba’alzamon. Old Ba’allsy. He commands his little collection of followers to bend the knee and grovel. The Day of Return draws near! The world will be broken again and remade. Wheel of Time be damned! And everyone will be filthy, stinkin’ rich! Except… you. *points*

Next, Ba’alzamon creates a few apparitions to appear before them all: Mat, Rand, and Perrin. The Man Who Will Hitherto Refer to His Own Fucking Self as Something Stupid Like Bors is astonished to see the Rand-like figure holding a heron-hilt sword! BUH-WHAT!! BRRRRTT!!! HUBLUBUBLUB!!! The room is encouraged — nay, commanded — nay, FORCED — to find these three for a reward of seven pickles and a comic book.

Bors McFadden is personally tasked with confusing directions, which he blindly obeys even though he has no idea what the hell Ba’alzamon is telling him. Something about Tamon Head and those who landed there. Something about work to do on Almoth Plain. Yada yada yada. Typical prologue shit where a character you don’t know is told things you don’t know either.

The last bit of helpful information is that Bors changes back into his street clothes after the Ba’alzamon pow-wow: a white clock with a sun on it. This will come up later, I assure you. Also, “Bors” will probably have a name that’s an anagram. Like “Sorb”.

End Prologue.


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Chronicles of the Tattoo: Tom’s Gonna Get Tattooier!

Chronicles of the Tattoo - Dubstep

This isn’t me. I don’t like dubstep.

I spent years mulling over a half-sleeve tattoo. Earlier this year, well along my path toward overcoming anxiety and depression, I started looking through websites, portfolios, and Instagram pages to find a tattoo artist who was making the kind of art that resonated with me. In April, I found my guy, but it was impossible for me to work up the nerve to contact him until I BUILT UP SOME CONFIDENCE.

On June 17th, 2023, I drummed up enough courage to fill out and submit his online contact form.

On June 18th, 2023, he emailed me back to set up a consultation.

On June 21st, 2023, I walked over to the tattoo studio to speak with him in person. After less than 30 minutes, I booked four sessions. Mid-August, late-September, early-November, mid-December. I put down my deposit and that was that. In about seven weeks’ time, I’m going to sit down for my first session with a guy I just met and get some ink injected into my dermis for five hours. Forever. And then I’m going to do it at least three more times.

In the span of 76 hours, I finalized a life-changing decision. Fuck, man, I’m still processing it. You can tell that I’m serious because the level of snark is at an all-time low for a post that I’m already about 250 words into. This is SERIOUS BUSINESS! I’m taking this SERIOUSLY! I have to! From shoulder to elbow, I’m permanently altering my right arm. This is not to be taken lightly, ladies and/or gentlemen. Hopefully just ladies, but I’ll take any audience!

Chronicles of the Tattoo - Dubstep

It’s not going to be my first tatoo [sic], but who really has a first tattoo? Know what I mean?

I’m not comfortable naming the fine artist who is going to hurt me for 20 total hours yet, because I might end up completely wussing out and I don’t want him to read this and get mad at me for completely wussing out and wasting his precious time. But I will say that he’s based in Chicago, and he specializes in a completely original style of biomechanical and abstract blackwork. Based on this information you could probably find him quickly, but let’s way until my arm is bleeding like crazy before I start crediting him with the work he’ll be doing on my tender flesh.

I’m excited! I’ve been thinking about this for long enough that I’m confident that I’m making the right choice for myself. I’m looking quite forward to having some cool-ass art on my body until I’m long dead and ready for decomposition. I can’t wait to scare old grannies with some eerie, abstract black-and-gray artwork on my arm as I brazenly wear short-sleeved t-shirts of the finest cotton out in public. I can’t wait for my own mother to shake her head with disappointment as I break the news that I’m ruining my flesh with dastardly inks. I can’t wait to hide it from my in-laws forever with long-sleeved t-shirts and hooded sweatshirts during 90°F summer weather, inciting some very bewildered looks. Most of all, I’m looking forward to outwardly and passively expressing myself since I’m not very good at actively expressing myself through words or hand gestures or t-shirts that say “FUCK THE SHRINERS” on them.

I’m not too worried about regrets, because the worst that will happen is that a lot of my arm will be a different color and I can just write about it as a form of self-therapy for all two of my website fans to enjoy. Based on his portfolio, this artist looks very impressive and capable of drawing things on body parts with a very painful tattoo machine, so I don’t have to worry about getting a shitty-ass tattoo. Perhaps my half-sleeve will scare my children, to which I say that they need to face the harsh reality early on that Dad is a creep and he’s no good for society in general! These things must be learned eventually.

Chronicles of the Tattoo - Dubstep

Ok, this one is pretty good.

So, thank you for reading. I hope in the coming months I can post progress photos of my off-putting, flabby arm and discuss any sort of hang-ups and insecurities I have about disfiguring the right side of my person for the rest of my pathetic life!

Oh yeah, I already have a tattoo, so I’ve done this before. Thank you for asking. That’s a story for another time! Stay tuned, I’ll have more inanities to spew in the coming months!

Good thing I ended up snarking this thing up after all.


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Star Wars (Vol. 2), Issue #1 – “Book I: Skywalker Strikes (Part 1)”

* Part 1 of 6 of the Book I: Skywalker Strikes storyline *

Welcome to Ghostliness & Nerfherders Presents: Star Wars (Vol. 2), Issue #1 – “Book I: Skywalker Strikes (Part 1)”!

I’ve done the work. I’ve watched the first six movies. I’ve already finished one of the novels. It’s time to dig into the comics.

I’m sticking with the Marvel canon comics for a while, for no other reason than they’re fairly new. I like the idea of seeing what was going on between A New Hope and The Empire Strikes Back, so I’m hopping in right around that time period. I expect a lot of Luke Skywalker crying and Princess Leia strutting around in bikinis of various metal alloys. Also, Darth Vader crying and/or strutting. There’s a lot that could happen here.

Star Wars (Vol. 2), Issue #1 [March, 2015]
Written by: Jason Aaron
“Book I: Skywalker Strikes (Part 1)”

tar Wars (Vol. 2), Issue #1

Hell yeah, cover art. Check out that OG crew with super serious looks on their faces, ready to battle all the Imperial soldiers and/or Jabba the Hutts. Even C-3PO looks like he’s ready to strangle a bitch, but not really. He always looks like he’d rather stay home and take a bath.

“It is a period of renewed hope for the Rebellion. The evil Galactic Empire’s greatest weapon, the Death Star, had been destroyed by the young Rebel pilot, Luke Skywalker. With the Imperial forces in disarray, the Rebels look to press their advantage by unleashing a daring offensive throughout the far reaches of space, hoping to defeat the Empire once and for all and at last restore freedom to the galaxy…”

This means that, immediately following the events of A New Hope, Luke, Leia, and Han didn’t just go to their respective homes and binge through marathons of NCIS while eating hot dogs. They continued to do stuff, and we’re going to see exactly what that stuff was because this shit is CANON, my friends.

A spacecraft hovers over that one shitty desert planet. “Tatooine shuttle, your credentials have been approved. You are cleared for landing at Weapons Factory Alpha.”

This hunk of garbage lands in the Corellian Industrial Cluster of Cymoon 1, whatever that is. This place looks like it emits more greenhouse gases than Louie Anderson during a meal of franks and beans; everything is so brown. Like Louie Anderson’s toilet after a meal of franks and beans. An Imperial officer, flanked by stormtroopers, sneers at this incoming shuttle. “Outer Rim scum. I can smell them already.” He tells the troops to kill everyone if there’s any funny business going on. Just load them up with laser blasts and CGI special effects if one of them even drops a tissue.

The doors of the craft open. The Imperial officer welcomes the hitherto unseen visitors and looks forward to an afternoon of negotiations! He is Overseer Aggadeen, and he’s a craggy-faced motherfucker.

Emerging from the shuttle is a rather dashing young Harrison Ford lookalike! R2-D2 is with him, looking like the blue and white garbage can that he is. A real dream team.

Star Wars (Vol. 2), Issue #1

Watch your tongue, Handsome, or my stormtroopers will strangle you with your own very dapper vest.

Some brain-robot thing positively identifies Han Solo as a known associate of Jabba the Hutt with a bounty on his head of 50,000 credits. Han doesn’t even blink at this. He even finds it rather funny! Overseer Aggadeen isn’t interested in the exploits of Han “The Rock” Solo. He demands that Han and his cronies remove their weapons before entering the premises or else they’ll get a fistful of teeth-breaking brass knuckles. Han willfully relinquishes his pistols, but far off in the distance he’s got Chewbacca stationed at his Sniper Zone. By that I mean, he’s ready to blow some Imperial heads off if one of them even drops a tissue.

After some rather flowery prose, C-3PO subverts the trademark Star Wars phrase. “I have a very good feeling about this,” he gushes.

*laugh track*

Aggadeen leads the way. “The negotiator will deliver the Empire’s terms and you will accept them,” he tells Han sternly. “Your organization will provide whatever raw materials we require and will take the pay you are given, without complaint.” And, in classic fashion, Han Solo bats his eyes because he thinks he’s cute. They arrive at a conference room where Mr. Negotiator will be shortly…

Star Wars (Vol. 2), Issue #1

The classic Piss Distraction tactic! Well played, sir.

Han ain’t here to negotiate! In fact, he’s here to not negotiate! In fact, he’s going to be hella destructive and belligerent about it. R2-D2 pisses on the floor and then zaps the piss with electricity and then all the stormtroopers who are standing in the piss get electrocuted! Everyone gets their ass kicked except Aggadeen, who gets to bug out his eyes and stammer for a minute. “Oh my… this is… This is insanity. What kind of envoy are you?”

Han’s two bodyguards remove their helmets, revealing Luke Skywalker and Princess Leia, who you may remember from the movies! Han aims his gun, which he should have relinquished earlier, at the hapless Overseer. “Which way to the main power core?” Han demands, brow furrowing like he thinks he’s the biggest badass this side of, like, Krypton or Vulcan or whatever.

Rebels. Yes, Rebels. The Rebels are here to be rebellious. “This moon is the most heavily guarded base in the galaxy,” Aggadeen says, still alarmed at this TWIST. “You cannot possibly escape alive.”

Han asks again, very sweetly, where the power core is. R2-D2 threatens to zap Aggadeen’s dick. Aggadeen points the way. Leia punches him in the face and they all skedaddle.

Meanwhile, Chewbacca and C-3PO have hid the Millennium Falcon in a landfill where no one will ever look twice! Because the ship looks like scrap, you see. “If I may say so, Captain Solo, I do find it rather disconcerting that your vessel continues to be so easily mistaken for garbage.” Ha. That’s C-3PO bringing the funny! Someone get him a microphone and a brick wall behind him.

C-3PO is instructed to hit the autopilot as soon as Han gives the signal, which will likely be the Shocker. Han’s group of ninnies finds the power core and decides to stare at it for a bit. Then they’re going to rig it to blow up, because that’s how we solve every problem in Star Wars.

Star Wars (Vol. 2), Issue #1

A true Jedi can also tell the difference between Coke and Pepsi.

Luke finds some stairs leading to a basement where a bunch of alien-types are trapped in a very large cage. A big lug of a guard threatens Luke with a baton to the skull. Luke responds by activating his lightsaber and waving it around a little. He slices off the guard’s hand, which seems a little harsh to me considering Luke kind of knows what that feels like. Then he lightsabers the bolt of the cage. “YOU’RE FREE, LITTLE BIRDS! FLY! FLY AWAY!” …he doesn’t say that, but he may as well have. He instead tells them all to follow him if they hate the Empire’s guts. Which they do. Everyone does. Especially when it happens to Strike Back.

DESTRUCTION SEQUENCE INITIATED. They have ten minutes to get the hell out of dodge, which is a conveniently round number. Too bad Luke is nowhere to be found, that dingbat. He’s probably off in closet somewhere stroking himself. Again.

Leia thanks Han for all his services. And for showing his face in front of the Imperials, who now know that Han Solo is fighting for the Rebels. To this, Han goes “no no no no no no, it’s not like that at all!” But his protests are thin and flimsy like so many dropped tissues.

Luke shows up. Everyone’s ready to board the ship!

Star Wars (Vol. 2), Issue #1

Gee, thanks Luke. The Millennium Falcon can only hold 900 lbs, but whatever.

C-3PO kicks on the autopilot, but nay! They’re not leaving yet! A ship is arriving! The Negotiator is here to conduct his business, and if it ain’t negotiating then he ain’t want no part of it.

It’s Darth Vader. Spooky! (I think that’s the bad guy, but I only watched the first six movies so I can’t be quite sure yet)

Oh shit, man, Darth Vader. The Darth Vader. Chewie can’t assassinate him in front of the whole Empire and God and everyone. It’ll draw just a teensy bit too much attention to this little rogue power core explosion mission. Han radios Chewie and tells him to stand down. Leia thinks this is cuckoo bananas, grabs Han’s wrist and orders Chewie to take the shot. Blast Vader’s brains all over his Darth Suit.

Don’t forget, men and women, that Darth Vader is the most Jediest Jedi that has ever Forced his way through a paper bag. He uses his Vader-sense and picks up on the impending laser bullet through the ol’ brainpan. So he throws a few disposable stormtroopers right into the path of Chewie’s shot. Chewie looks through his scope and sees Vader looking right at him. With a hearty “HHRRRRRRRRR”, Chewie is just about to pull the trigger when Vader channels the power of magnets and ghosts and sends Chewie’s hideout toppling around him.

“It was a Wookiiee. After him,” Darth McGarth orders. One of his stormtroopers humbly informs the Darthed One that the, uh, power core of the main reactor is currently melting down. Well, fiddlesticks.

Star Wars (Vol. 2), Issue #1

Wait ‘til I tell him that Daddy’s Home.

Alarms go off in the power core room, signaling near doom and death (or both) for Han, Leia, and the other guy.

“THREEPIO, GET US OUTTA HERE! HIT THE AUTO-PILOT!”

“I did, sir. I pressed the button… five minutes ago. I’m afraid… nothing happened.”

Well fuck you very much, C-3PO. You’re the big smartypants robot, figure something out. Han Solo rightfully calls him a rude name while little squid-like creatures with green hoods are tearing pieces off the ship and squirrelling them away. lol there

Han tells C-3PO to go out there and stop them. C-3PO vibrates nervously. Han tells him to grab a gun. C-3PO quivers.

Ambushed by stormtroopers, Team Rebel opens fire while booking it out of the room and into another room. The other room contains hella Imperial AT-AT Walkers, which makes Han positively salivate with orgasmic excitement.

“Can you even drive one of those things?”
“I can drive anything. Let’s go!”

They lost Luke again, who scrambled back to that self-stroking closet that he likes so much. In actuality, he’s been following a mysterious, disembodied voice down the corridor.

“Luke…”

“Ben? Ben, is that you?”

“Luke… Listen to me carefully…”

Luke unsheathes his glowstick. Vader, at the end of the corridor, advances toward Luke with his own red neon light.

“RUN.”

Final Thoughts

Yeehaw! We’re cooking with gas now! Excitement and thrills! Live long a prosper, Space Wars Nerds!


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