Supergirl (Vol. 6), Issue #5

Supergirl (Vol. 6), Issue #5 – “Homecoming”

* Part 5 of 7 of the Last Daughter of Krypton storyline *

Welcome to Loneliness & Cheeseburgers Presents: Supergirl (Vol. 6), Issue #5 – “Homecoming”! In the previous installment, which was aptly titled “Escape”, Supergirl escapes all right. She shoots laser eyes at the central core of Simon Tycho’s space station and blows it up to smithereens. Tycho’s completely messed up now; they attached what’s left of his already shitty body to the Brain.

Supergirl got away with her sunstone, which may contain a message from her father, but it’s cracked. So now she contemplates just picking a direction in the vast wasteland of outer space and, hopefully, ending up back at her home planet. Which is gone. Which Superman already told her. But she doesn’t trust him. So she’s in a pickle!

There’s a spot of blood on the uniform of one of Tycho’s guards who tried to pick a fight with Supergirl. It’s Supergirl’s blood. Tycho’s gonna do fucked up stuff with that blood.

This is a pretty good story so far! Let’s hope it stays that way.


Supergirl (Vol. 6), Issue #5 [March, 2012]
Written by: Michael Green & Mike Johnson
“Homecoming”

Supergirl (Vol. 6), Issue #5

“In the ruins of Argo…a showdown with Reign!” Why, look at me all gobsmacked! A showdown with THEE Reign? In the ruins of Argo, you say! That sounds fantabulous! Ha ha! Listen to me, you smug comic book cover, I don’t know what either of those things are. I’m a BRAND NEW, TENDER, VIRGIN SUPERGIRL reader here, and I cannot be swayed by any promises of Argo or Reign in the pages within. Nice try.

Fragile, precious sunstone in hand, Supergirl blasts like a dangerous planet-destroying cosmic ray straight into the depths of space. “The Kryptonian girl is leaving the small planet on which she crashed. Shall we engage her now?” asks an unseen entity, possibly feminine, judging from the pink and purple text boxes. Supergirl flies alongside Saturn. “No. We follow,” answers a similarly possibly-feminine entity. “Interesting. She is following a course back. Back the way we came.” These two decide to follow her back through “the jump”, and then one of them (REIGN? FROM THE RUINS OF ARGO?) will engage her alone.

Meanwhile, Supergirl is like “I’m totally fucking up right now” as she continues to hold her breath and fly into the wild black yonder. She doesn’t even know if her powers will suddenly go POOF! Gone! Leaving her frozen, oxygen all diffusing out of her bloodstream into the vacuum of space, floating around dead for eternity. Ha! Yeah, don’t think about that. You’ll be fine. Or not, heh. But don’t think about it.

While she continues to have a deep space anxiety attack, her sunstone begins to pulsate and emit a powerful red glow! Is this like when you receive a red envelope that yells at you in Harry Potter? SUPERGIRL! IT’S DINNER TIME! YOU’RE NOT SUPPOSED TO LEAVE OUR SITE IN THE BACKYARD. GET YOUR PASTY ASS BACK HOME BEFORE YOU GET A WHUPPIN’!

Supergirl (Vol. 6), Issue #5

Off to P3X-797. Open the iris!

But no, it’s like in the N64 Paper Mario game when you get that stone that blinks in the desert area and leads you to treasure. It’s like that, you guys, that’s what happens. The sunstone blinks and draws her toward one of them Stargates that just happen to be floating around space. But Supergirl is skeptical. It could be a trap! It could be one of them Stargates that leads you to one of those planets where the uncivilized folk hunt the women for sport! Or, perhaps this is all part of Father’s plan… hmm, better not risk it, and-

Oh well! Supergirl passes through the gate without much further hesitation! Well that settles that. No alien savages with spears here, just more space. She notices the stars are all different now, and therefore quickly realizes she has been transported to somewhere completely different in the universe. It would’ve taken Superman about an extra hour to figure that out, the dummy. By then he would’ve been torn apart and consumed by Space Gerbils.

The sunstone continues to tug on the poor flying girl through space, leading her to…SOMEWHERE. She’s hoping home, which is a blown-up planet, so I know it’s not that. The glowing red vibrator is herding her toward a small blue star (“but it can’t be Krypton’s sun. Rao is RED! Wah!!”), specifically a small seemingly-populated asteroid. “Does Father want me to come here? Is this where he and Mother are…?”

Supergirl (Vol. 6), Issue #5

They better have dinner ready on the fucking table.

But certainly not! They’re DEAD, Kara! They fucking DIED, little girl! Kaputt! Nothing left! Do you know what this is? This is a large chunk of urban-Krypton that had been ripped apart and sent hurtling through the cosmos. She gets closer and recognizes Argo City, but not the way she remembers it! THAT Argo City was very much populated and still connected to a planet! THIS one is complete and total bullshit!

She zips around the ruins saying “fuck! shit! fuck! shit! fuck!” while pointing out landmarks and trying to make sense of all this cockamamie nonsense. “And what about…HOME?!” she cries and she swoops into her old abode. The house looks untouched; her parents’ bed with a rumpled bedsheet, as if they had just fucked in it and went downstairs to get a post-coital snack. However, they didn’t just fuck in it at all, sorry to say! The whole house is coated in dust, as if no one had been through the rooms for years. (Because they’re all DEAD and also it’s the future).

She invites herself downstairs into Father’s Lab, one of the last places she was before Shit Got Weird. “Feels like I was just here. We were talking about the Trials, how I needed to study…”

She approaches an apparatus that looks uncannily like the claw of an arcade crane game, only inverted. The sunstone continues a-pulsin’. “It’s cracked, but hopefully I can still access what’s on it.” Supergirl tells herself, as if the information in the pointy red crystal will be useful at all. “Take care of yourself, lady.” it’ll say. She might as well throw it in the trash. The Argo Trash!

The sunstone doesn’t react to the, like, answering machine thing she tries to put it in. Supergirl remembers being able to heat herself up by concentrating hard enough, so she tries that to power the sunstone (cassette tape) back up. It works! Huzzah! Excelsior!

A hologram of Kara’s father pops up before her. He looks like an extra-hairy Kirk Douglas. “If you can hear this, it means that my greatest hope has been fulfilled: you are alive.” Oh how sweet and touching! You’re alive and alone! Congrats, you inherited fragments of an exploded world! Hurray, go fuck an alien and divvy up the planet pieces to your kin, kiddo.

He goes on to inform his daughter that he had put her in stasis and placed the BIG RED PENIS in her pod just in case she didn’t get fucked up during stasis and was eventually able to go back the home answering machine and watch this message! Success. Check.

“Perhaps you have already learned the terrible truth. As I record this, Krypton is mere cycles away from its destruction. There is nothing we can do. I am so sorry.” And she does already know this! That one guy on Earth told her, the one dressed up like her. But she gasps anyway.

Supergirl (Vol. 6), Issue #5

Don’t you want to just grab the guy by the big, bushy sideburns and plant a wet one right on his kisser? Hubba hubba.

Big Brain Dad had a plan, though, as you can see. Looks like it didn’t work! Everyone’s gone and dead! Maybe it did work, though, for a little while. What are we, about 30 years in the future or something? I forget. It depends upon how old Clark Kent is in this series. 25? 59? Somewhere in between? 74?

Supergirl’s dad thought the plan was too risky to try to include Kara. His hope is that he and her mother had removed her from stasis, and the super kewl protective pod, themselves once they had found a possible new home for Argo. Ha! Nope!

So, if his hopes had been dashed (as he expects anyway), then tough luck, sister. The memory of Argo City lives on in Kara and only Kara. “On this sunstone you will find a full historical record of Krypton, all of my research, and the truth about what happened to–” Bzzt! Disconnected!

Actually, what happens here is that some uninvited guest enters the room where Kara’s father was recording the message. “Who’s there? I gave explicit instructions that– YOU! How did you get in here?! What are you doing?! STOP! YOU CAN’T–” Bzzt! Disconnected!

Supergirl (Vol. 6), Issue #5

There goes my last dildo. Sigh.

Actually, not quite yet! Someone blasts this bastard right in the chest with a weapon. She watches him die! Now it’s disconnected! And would you look at all this homework her dad’s making her do now? Historical record of Krypton?! BORING.

The sunstone crumbles into a dormant, darkened pile of useless shards and dust. Kara starts crying and breaking things. And I mean really starts breaking things. It looks like she destroys her father’s lab, she blasts a hole through the house, she starts busting up concrete everywhere, kicking down ruined buildings, her eyes alight with red fire! “Yes, my child, let the universe bear witness to your pain. Grieve the life you knew.” This voice comes from some speech bubbles that are as similarly feminine as the text boxes from earlier! ARE WE GOING TO MEET REIGN IN THE ARGO RUINS?!

Yes!

“My name is Reign. And I’m here to offer you a new life.”

You already know what Reign looks like, she was on the cover. I knew a girl named Rheyn in elementary school. It’s quite a hippy-dippy name. I suspect that this Reign is neither hippy nor dippy. Doesn’t matter, Supergirl is in NO mood for this lady’s offerings.

“DID YOU DO THIS?!” Supergirl screams as she starts reigning blows upon Reign! Just punching the hell out of her, throwing her through walls, kind of the same treatment she gave dear old Superman. Reign’s pretty calm about this pummelling. Maybe it doesn’t actually hurt that much to get pummelled by Supergirl. Maybe she needed to go through her Trials to, like, level up.

Supergirl (Vol. 6), Issue #5

KRAKOWW! Bang! Zoom! Straight to Poland!

Reign tells her that she did not do this to her beloved Argo City. In fact, Supergirl is the first to set foot on the ruined city since it started orbiting this forsaken blue star. Reign DOES know that Kara is one of the only survivors of the Kryptonian Kaplooey, and she, like Kara, seeks answers.

Supergirl ain’t listening though. She starts attacking Reign again like some kind of out-of-control angsty teenager, but Reign stops her fist with an open palm. “Enough of this. I come to help you, not to fight you.” Reign tells the girl rather pleasantly. And we’ve already seen this before with Superman. Kara doesn’t care. She moans and groans in Reign’s grip while Reign observes that her distance from the MAGIC YELLOW SUN OF EARTH is weakening her resolve. So cut it the fuck out! You’re not going to win here, lassie. Reign just wants to chit-chat.

“Tell me,” Reign starts, “What do you know of the Worldkillers?” And I remember Superman mentioning them back in Issue #2 after Supergirl threw him through the Great Wall of China! It turns out that Supergirl does know quite a bit: “They were weapons outlawed by the ruling council on Krypton eons ago. All anybody knows is that they were too dangerous to exist.”

What does Reign say to this?:

Supergirl (Vol. 6), Issue #5

Dead dad mockery, huh? Nice.

Well you just gone and done it again, haven’t you, Reigny Reign. Reign Wilson. Supergirl launches at her again and starts punching the stuffing out of her face. “WHAT HAPPENED TO ARGO?! WHAT HAPPENED TO MY FAMILY?!” she yells, frothing.

Reign growls like a wild animal and clocks Supergirl upside the chin with the hilt of her giant scythe-y sword. Stunned and knocked to the floor, Supergirl watches as Reign winds up a forward slash. Supergirl stops the blade mid-slash with her bare hand; she crumples the thing like paper with a “SHHRAKK” and completely snaps the blade off near the hilt.

Reign seems impressed that this child just tore apart her big-ass sword, but then she pushes her back down to the ground and connects a series of punches to her jaw. “I was wrong about you. I thought you were ready. I thought you were worthy. But you are not.”

Now Reign lifts the dazed and bloodied girl off the ground by the scruff and gives her a real hardass come to Jesus monologue: “The Worldkillers are real. They are weapons of limitless destruction, yes. But they are not things. They are living beings. They came to Argo on a mission to discover the mystery of their own creation, knowing only that Kryptonians were somehow responsible. But they found Argo as dead as you did.”

“How do I know so much about the Worldkillers?” Reign takes what’s left of her sword and pins Supergirl to the wall by her cape.

“Because I AM one.”

Supergirl (Vol. 6), Issue #5

But all that fighting and slaughtering and conquering doesn’t seem to quell the feeling. Maybe I’m just hungry?

Supergirl hangs there like a limp noodle. Reign goes on and on and on and on and on and on and on about having this strange, innate desire to fight and conquer and maim and punish and hurt and disfigure and trounce! But she has no idea why! She lost her memory, or something. She awoke from an “age-old slumber” knowing nothing but her own name and her purpose, and an inkling that all her answers could be found on Krypton.

But, fuck me sideways, Krypton blew up! Reign discovered this floating remnant of Argo City with Daddy’s Under the Dome forcefield broken and a bunch of suffocated losers. Everything Reign had pieced together led her to Earth, the refuge of the final Kryptonians, and she doesn’t think it’s entirely because of the magic yellow sun. There’s something MORE to it! And she’s going to find out what it is, goddamnit.

Reign mistakenly thought Supergirl was a kindred spirit who could help her conquer Earth, but hell, she’ll just do it without this sassy Kryptonian wench. “But there’s something you should know,” Reign continues, “Argo’s orbit around the blue sun is decaying. Soon it will burn up, and all traces of this place will finally disappear.” Eek! Ook! Ope!

At this point, Reign is done with Supergirl. She blasts off toward Earth. “Try to follow me…before you die with all the remains of your home.”

Final Thoughts

Man, Supergirl can’t catch a break. Destroyed home planet. Dead family. Weirdo billionaire sociopaths. Red-headed Worldkillers.

Simon Tycho still has Supergirl’s blood. How will that tie in to whatever the fuck is going on here? Time will tell, Supergirl fans! Time will tell. But it probably won’t.

Ms. Marvel (Vol. 3), Issue #2

Ms. Marvel (Vol. 3), Issue #2 – “All Mankind”

* Part 2 of 5 of the No Normal storyline *

Welcome to Loneliness & Cheeseburgers Presents: Ms. Marvel (Vol. 3), Issue #2 – “All Mankind”! In the previous installment, Kamala Khan is a typical Pakistani-American teenager in what I presume to be a very stereotypical Pakistani-American household in Jersey City. She has racist high school peers, she feels weird and alone and abnormal, and she writes a lot of Avengers fanfiction!

One evening, in typical teen movie fashion, Kamala wants to go to a party but her father forbids it. She sneaks out of her house anyway, goes to the party for three minutes, and gets racisted at! She walks away in a pout when her friend Bruno tries to help. A fog envelops her on her walk about, she sees visions of the Avengers and they grant her superhero status!

You’re all caught up. Let’s see where the fuck this is actually going!

SMITE YOUR ENEMIES, MS. MARVEL. LET’S SEE SOME SMITING.


Ms. Marvel (Vol. 3), Issue #2 [May, 2014]
Written by: G. Willow Wilson
“All Mankind”

Ms. Marvel (Vol. 3), Issue #2

Jersey City – 12 Hours After the Terrigen Bomb – Well, I don’t know what Terrigen is or whether or not I should be capitalizing it at all, but that explains the strange fog that started to envelop the city.

“Okay. So. I passed out in the fog and had a dream that I asked Captain Marvel to make me like her. Apparently she took me literally.” Kamala Khan is all dressed up like a superhero, man. Orange hair, raccoon eye mask, tasteful gray spandex. Yes, that’ll do nicely.

Kamala’s not taking it well, though. She keeps trying to wake up from a dream. Her muscles are all tight and tense. She’s gonna hurl…

…but then she doesn’t, and she’s back to normal. In her normal clothes. She calms down, but then it happens again: all garbed up and doubling over. Her limbs and fingers stretch uncontrollably like putty to impossible lengths. Something ain’t right with Kamala Khan! She tries to stumble her way to a familiar street, phasing in and out of her super form.

Ms. Marvel (Vol. 3), Issue #2

I personally wouldn’t want to be caught dead out in public in a superhero costume, let alone out in public accidentally in a superhero costume.

She passes through the peculiar fog, noting that there’s something wrong with that too. As if it “smells like secrets” (and whoever smelt it dealt it, as the old universal law dictates). But she didn’t deal this! Maybe! Or did she? Maybe we’ll find out that she did, indeed, dealt it.

She makes her way back to the waterfront, near the party, and a view of the city skyline shrouded in misty fog. Three helicopters hover, patrolling the area. Maybe something governmenty is going on! Nah, never.

INTRODUCTION SPLASH PAGE! “Meet Kamala Khan. She’s 16 years old. Into Avengers fan fiction. Good at school. Bad at fitting in. So when a strange mist descends and morphs Kamala into a shape-shifting superhuman…fitting in is the least of her problems.”

Thank you, introduction splash page, for filling in some knowledge gaps that, you know, proper storytelling would have been suitable enough for the task! Also, I’d like to point out that I almost wrote “shape-shifting” as “shape-fisting”. Let me tell you, WAY more of an impressive superpower.

Back to normal, at least for now, Kamala keeps on walking and ruminating. Was there something besides vodka in that drink? It felt real though! “Right down to the horrifying realization that superhero costumes don’t include underwear.” Yeesh, that’s dreadful! So Captain America is only a few loose threads away from completely hangin’ brain during an epic fight? Atrocious.

Kamala tries to replicate the event consciously, but nothing happens. Same ol’ boring Kamala. In the sky, though, she sees a humanoid streak of red light zipping away! Maybe something happened to someone else! Or maybe that’s Iron Man? Thor? Captain Marvel? Todd Rundgren? Frank Costanza? Bert and Ernie?

As she thinks, she hears drunk singing coming out of the fog. “Great, it’s Zoe. The party must be winding down.” Josh is completely trashed, and Zoe is annoyed. And then it happens again! Super Kamala! As if it’s an involuntary reflex. As if it happens because she feels the need to not be herself at this moment. Like she has to be “someone cool”. She frowns sheepishly.

Instead of feeling cool, she feels small.

So she shrinks to match. For the first time since the fog rolled in, Kamala is impressed with herself and reveling in the magic.

That is, until she finds her first villain…

Ms. Marvel (Vol. 3), Issue #2

Get some bug powers while you’re at it, like that Spidey Boy. What’s his name again? Ol’ Spider Face?

So Kamala jumps around, screaming like a bug herself, while Josh continues to stumble around and yell like a drunk piece of shit. They’re near the end of a small wooden pier. Josh keeps asking and forcing Zoe to dance while Zoe keeps trying to push him away.

And wouldn’t ya know it, Zoe falls into the water! Josh starts howlin’! “HELP, SOMEONE, HELP! BLAHHHBA! BLAAAHB!”

Kamala, having successfully extracted the cockroach from her current situation, has been watching this scene the whole time. “He’s drunk and she’s panicking. If he jumps in, they’ll both drown,” she thinks, priming herself for some real deal superhero action!

Coming to mind immediately is a quote from the Qu’ran that she often hears her father tutting while watching TV: “Whoever kills one person, it is as if he has killed all of mankind – and whoever saves one person, it is as if he has saved all of mankind.”

Hmm? Kill or save? Kill or save? Kill? Save? Kill! Wait, no! Save! Save! Save?…no, kill! Yeah, kill! I mean, save!

Ms. Marvel (Vol. 3), Issue #2

Ooooh, “embiggen”. Very cromulent word.

So Ms. Marvel springs into action! Not even really knowing the full extent of her powers yet! Is that wise? I don’t think so! But fuck it, it’s too late now! She pushes Josh out of the way and starts trying to give Zoe words to help her calm enough to stop thrashing around in the dang, like, three-feet deep water. That doesn’t work! So she uses an extendo-hand and reaches in to grab the blond wretch. She scoops up a giant handful of wet dirt, garbage, and Zoe.

Some passersby watched the action from the boardwalk. “Dude, no way! Look! It’s Captain Marvel!” exclaims a woman. They run over to take photos. “Oh my God, your old costume looks great!” They ask for autographs. Zoe is grateful to be saved. “I’m never gonna get wasted ever again…”

And there’s just this look on Ms. Marvel’s face. It’s the same look that Jon Arbuckle always has after one of Garfield’s trademark snappy, decimating comebacks! “I…uh…” and her arm is still overgrown. “Gotta go!” she yells and starts running off into the shroud of mist. The lookie-loos are like “the fuck was that?” and then talk amongst themselves about pasting this shit all over the internet.

How embarrassing! That didn’t seem very heroic! Do you think Captain America was all like “buuuhhh hrfrf?” the first time he ever saved someone?? And I say, yeah, probably! That dude is like that all the time.

Ms. Marvel (Vol. 3), Issue #2

Disembiggen? Now you’re just making words up!

I’m starting to notice a distinct FROWN motif here going on, this time when attempting to drag her out-of-control willy-nilly giant extremity around. She hasn’t had much time to get used to all this, I suppose. Feels very alien. Like a sixth sense that doesn’t seem very sensey. She also realizes that “being someone else isn’t liberating. It’s exhausting,” and that’s a fantastic lesson for a teenage girl to figure out all by herself already in Issue #2 of her own series! A lot of growth going on here! Uhh…in more ways than one.

Kamala looks at all she’s got going for her right now. Orange hair! Cool boots! A leotard giving her a big ol’ wedgie! She doesn’t want any of it! Fuck this!

She did like the whole Zoe-saving part though. That was worth it. “Maybe putting on a costume doesn’t make you brave. Maybe it’s something else.” she muses as she wanders back into the city again. A homeless man pushing a shopping cart like Bubble’s Depo gawks at Ms. Marvel; she asks to “borrow” a filthy-looking yellow sweater on his cart. He visually undresses her as she runs off to find her way back home.

Around midnight, aka Mom-and-Dad-are-gonna-be-fucking-pissed-o’clock, Kamala shambles up her street. Lights are still on in the house. Eep. She scales the tree near her bedroom window and regales us with the tales of the two other times in her life she snuck out of the house. ONE!: when she was ten, just to see if she could do it without killing herself. Success! TWO!: when she was a freshman, to go watch the midnight screening of a Harry Potter movie with her delinquent buds Nakia and Bruno.

Ms. Marvel (Vol. 3), Issue #2

See? If you got bit by a bug you could just, you know, bug your way back in.

Kamala’s good-for-nothing loser brother, Whatshisname, is still awake. She doesn’t make a very graceful entrance. Kinda sounds like someone falling out of bed, actually. He stops to check on her. Frantically, before he can turn the lights on, she thinks to herself “Kamala. I’m Kamala. Kamala has dark hair and dark eyes and is sort of short and has actually never owned a pair of thigh-high boots–” Presto! Lights on. Kamala’s home.

“I can explain!” she yells, lookin’ like Kamala wearing a homeless guy’s jerkoff sweater. She doesn’t know she looks like herself yet, so she starts raving about her appearance being a big ol’ magic trick. Ha ha! And her brother is like “uh huh, fucking weirdo”.

But no, he’s concerned. She’s acting strange. She admits something did happen, and her brother is all like “MY STARS! WHAT A HORRIBLE SITUATION! TIME TO GET MY MOSQUE NERD BUDDIES TO COME BEAT UP WHOEVER DID WHATEVER TO YOU! OH ME OH MY!” And Kamala pushes him away, all like “get off me, shitbird, I’m fine.”

And her brother wears an expression of smug righteousness: “Oh. In that case, you’re screwed…because Abu and Ammi know you snuck out.” And wouldn’t you know it, there’s Abu and Ammi now in the bedroom doorway, each spinning a FROWN MOTIF of their very own.

And guess who was the big snitch? NICE GUY BRUNO. Blech.

“He was worried sick about you. He said you disappeared from this shaytani [translation: devilish] party alone and wouldn’t answer him,” her mother howls. Kamala can’t believe what she’s hearing. Fucking BRUNO? What a kiss-ass piece of shit.

Here comes the very special episode stuff. Abu “Danny Tanner” tells Kamala “DJ Tanner” that he and her mother have been worried SICK, young lady, waiting by the landline rotary phone in 2014 for the police cops to call about their DEAD ASS DAUGHTER. DJ Tanner tells Bob Saget that it was just a dumb party. Bob Saget is like “then where did you get this filthy sweater? From some homeless man while you looked like Captain Marvel?” This paragraph is starting to run off the rails! Bob Saget’s fuckin’ dead! I’ll regroup.

Abu ain’t even mad. He’s disappointed. And as we ALL know, that’s so much WORSE! But parents just don’t understand! They have no idea what Kamala’s been through tonight. She saved a LIFE, idiots.

“Then tell me, jaanu [translation: sweetheart]. Tell me why my precious Kamala has suddenly become a reckless, disobedient girl I barely recognize,” Abu asks sadly. Dad’s really laying it on thick here, son. And, certainly, the truth wouldn’t make a lick of sense. So all she can do is apologize and work on it. She’s a teenager. Shit sucks right now.

But Ammi doesn’t like that answer. Not enough for Ammi! Ammi demands justice! Ammi wants blood! And now she starts yelling at pops, blaming him for dragging them to this dumbass country in the first place full of heroin-addicts and Joe Rogan fans! One child is a disobedient maniac! The other is practically homeless!

Abu, always the level-headed one, announces he’s going to bed now. Bye!

Ms. Marvel (Vol. 3), Issue #2

Abu needs his beauty rest, and looking at his face, he’s about 700,000 hours behind.

But first, Kamala. Grounded! School and home only. No fun until everyone can trust your sorry ass again. Bye!

Now that her ass is grounded, she asks herself if she needs to stop here or continue. To save one life is to save all lives, something like that.

And, of course, she will continue.

And the reveal is that the sweater she’s wearing says “It Was a Stooooone Groove”. Lmao

Final Thoughts

Listen to your father, dear.

Pinch Points, Charli XCX, and Big Big Train

Whoa whoa whoa, do my eyes and ears and brain and butt deceive me, or did I not post a Newer Release Roundup at all last week?! ‘Tis true! I felt like complete decomposing garbage and was like “Fuck THIS, the world doesn’t need my opinions on what essentially amounts to a random series of 1s and 0s today.” Actually, what even is music other than something our brains trick ourselves into thinking is good? Really makes you think.

I don’t wish to make a habit out of skipping these Wednesday updates, though. As you can see, I’m still reeling from the decision. But, moving on! Here are reviews for new records from Pinch Points, Charli XCX, and Big Big Train:


Pinch Points – Process
(March 18, 2022)

Pinch Points - Process

The Australian punk scene has been pretty fun lately. Still gliding along on the momentum of my budding new Amyl and the Sniffers fandom, I’ve discovered another similar group that scratches the same itch. Pinch Points combines fevered, world-weary anger with snotty male and female vocals, making some truly cathartic, political punk music. If you’re looking for art, look elsewhere. This music is about as far as it gets from hitting the brain over the heart.

I’m immediately charmed by the band from the getgo. Track 1, “Reasons to Be Anxious”, was made for people like me: “I get anxious when I get a text/I get anxious when I don’t get a text/I get anxious when my doorbell rings/ I get anxious about fucking anything/I get anxious when I take time off/I get anxious that I’m not good enough/I get anxious going to therapy/To try and treat my anxiety“. It’s like they quite literally plucked all the negative mantras right out of my own head.

These ten songs cover a wide range of subjects, mostly serving to highlight how shitty the planet is in this audaciously transparent, post-pandemic era. “Stock It” touches upon the exploitation of capitalism for instant gratification. “Copper” as about as anti-police a song as you will find outside of gangster rap. “Haruspex” addresses the repetitious cycle of male entitlement and gendered violence. Lead vocals are shouted by bassist Acacia Coates and guitarist Adam Smith (and occasionally also by drummer Isabella Orsini) with irritability and incredulity, vexed by the state of the Western world and its universally piss-poor leadership, basic societal decency, and its apparent backwards trajectory.

As such, with songs like “Am I Okay?” and “Relentlessly Positive”, the band also showcases the importance of the self-care and mental health maintenance required to keep on plugging along. These two tracks especially get pretty corny and sappy, but the sentiment comes from a kind place, and at least it’s still backdropped by their alluring style of seething, lyrics-forward jangle punk. These cats seem cool, is all.

Early Verdict:


Charli XCX – Crash
(March 18, 2022)

Charli XCX - Crash

My love of Sky Ferreira’s debut album from 2013 is why I discovered Charli XCX, but I’ve always been somewhat less than satisfied with Charli’s output. I was underwhelmed by the moody True Romance and the sugary Sucker. I liked a lot of Pop 2 and Charli, although both were scattered and inconsistent. And then how i’m feeling now, arguably the very first pandemic isolation mental health check-in album, left me kind of cold. Perhaps because it was hard to enjoy anything in May 2020.

And now, with a bright, blinking highlighter, Crash surfaces a culmination of everything I’m lukewarm about Charli’s career in the first place. Musically, tracks are a little too decadently polished and sterile, sacrificing the emotionality of the lyrics with lackluster autotuned vocals and weak dance beats. That is to say, a little too pop-happy this time. It goes against the self-aware tongue-in-cheek “pop artist kinda making fun of pop” vibe that I’ve otherwise been feeling from Charli throughout the last decade. A lot of Crash sounds like the work of a budding Youtube star trying to break out.

That being said, certainly, some of these hooks are hard to pass up completely. It takes a while for “Good Ones” to leave my head after hearing it. Same with, coincidentally, “Constant Repeat”. I just wish there was more substance; this album is like Chinese food.

Gotta hand it to her, though. This will be a hard album to top for memorable album covers of 2022. Certainly the sexiest car accident victim I’ve ever seen.

Early Verdict:


Big Big Train – Welcome to the Planet
(January 25, 2022)

Big Big Train - Welcome to the Planet

Uh oh, head for the hills! Modern progressive rock? Nothing good can come from this! It’s a fucking minefield!

Oh! This stuff is actually ok? Not perfect, but not terrible? Whew, thanks for the heads up. I was worried there for a second, you know, because this band was heavily inspired by Genesis and Van der Graaf Generator. It also has the name “Big Big Train”, which sends me on full alert. A childish, innocent name with childish, innocent music.

I’m no stranger to Big Big Train, though! It can be very corny at times, but after plowing through much of their discography over the years I’ve finally decided to let my guard down. I got no gripe with them. Easily one of the most accessible and inoffensive modern prog bands active today.

Here’s their biggest strength: the warmth of the instrumentation keeps this band grounded on Earth. Liberal use of organic flutes, violins, acoustic piano and tasteful electric piano. Conservative use of the Keith Emerson / Rick Wakeman Mellotrons and Moogs. Take all that with a lead singer who has a charmingly pleasant British voice, and you get a band that sounds like a modern take on lush pop rock of the late ’60s and early ’70s.

Unfortunately, charmingly pleasant British lead singer David Longdon literally fell down and died last November, so Welcome to the Planet will be the final Big Big Train album featuring his soothing voice. Don’t worry, though, old British guys who sound like Peter Gabriel/Phil Collins hybrids are a dime a dozen! Ten pence a dozen.

The clear winner on this record by a mile is “The Connection Plan”. It has, by far, the highest energy and the most memorable melody. Plus, those string arrangements are pretty nifty! It’s also the easiest song here to ignore the happy horseshit lyrics. Similarly, some of Welcome to the Planet‘s best moments are the instrumental sections. Smooth lounge jazz trumpet on “Proper Jack Frost”. Accordion on “A Room with No Ceiling”. The electro-percussive breakdowns on “Bats in the Belfry”. It’s a grab bag of “oh, that’s kind of neat” moments packed into a totally digestible 47-minute runtime.

Not life-changing music, but this is the kind of band that can transcend niche interests. Worth a listen for sure.

Early Verdict:

Supergirl (Vol. 6), Issue #4

Supergirl (Vol. 6), Issue #4 – “Escape”

* Part 4 of 7 of the Last Daughter of Krypton storyline *

Welcome to Loneliness & Cheeseburgers Presents: Supergirl (Vol. 6), Issue #4 – “Escape”! In the previous installment, Supergirl tells Superman to fuck off once and for all! She flies back to Siberia to try to find the pod she landed on Earth in. At the impact site, some douche named Simon Tycho contacts her via TUPAC HOLOGRAM and lures her to his fancy schmancy space station. In space!

There he does, like, two experiments on her before she starts tearing holes in the walls. She finds her pod in one of the space station rooms, but a mYsTeRiOuS sUbStAnCe on the pod makes her weird and sick!

Because it’s Kryptonite, dummy.

Simon Tycho is Supergirl’s Lex Luthor except he totally wants to fuck that shit. Gross! She’s too young, dude! Stop!


Supergirl (Vol. 6), Issue #4 [February, 2012]
Written by: Michael Green & Mike Johnson
“Escape”

Supergirl (Vol. 6), Issue #4

“They took their best shot… Now it’s KARA’S TURN!”

Kara’s turn to what? Fuck some shit up? She already has. You mean she’s going to fuck more shit up? Excellent!

“Sir, we are already gigapascals past the ultimate tensile strength of any material known to science.” alerts Miss Thorn to Simon Tycho as they try to stretch the shit out of her superhero uniform. As someone whose actual job involves testing the ultimate tensile strength of metals, that’s pretty goddamned indestructible. Most types of steel don’t get much past 2 gigapascals before breaking. BUT, enough of my shoehorning of dorky knowledge.

Tycho is excited! He’s already trying to figure out how to replicate the material and make a ton of money off of it. Thorn reports no lasting damage to the station or The Brain (the weird humanoid jelly that Supergirl fought in Issue #3), so all’s well that ends well! “I think she’ll behave from now on.” Tycho declares as we catch a view of Kara floating in stasis within a diabolical space tube. They placed the Kryptonite pod near her, and all she can feel floating there is pain.

It’s pretty fucked up.

Supergirl (Vol. 6), Issue #4

Hard to be guilty of transgressions when you’re floating in a tube all catatonic-like. Believe me, I know.

Miss Thorn asks what’s next, and Tycho’s got some plans for this runaway teenage guinea pig, but that will come later! Ha ha ha ha! HA HA HA HAA! They walk away. They don’t laugh, though. I’m laughing. Because one of the soldiers that tracked Supergirl down in Siberia, the one who was lifted out of his metal suit by Supergirl, attacks a fellow soldier by the door that leads into Kara’s containment chamber. “Just hang on…” he says as he gets near her space tube and punches a few buttons.

Kara can barely keep her head up, but she recognizes him. “He must be here to finish the job.” she thinks as this guy lifts her out of the tube and carries her away. He tries to talk to her, but, of course, English ain’t her first language. “This isn’t what I signed up for, miss. I thought Mr. Tycho was a genius. Thought he was gonna help the world. Not torture innocent people.”

He helps her to her feet and they walk through the hallways of the station to the evacuation pods. She realizes that he’s helping her, but she can’t believe it! Why would anyone help anyone in this godforsaken hellhole? She starts to feel better as they move farther from the Kryptonite pod.

And that’s good! Because they run into Tycho and a group of gun-toting soldiers. So hopefully she has the strength to, like, give these guys the ol’ one-two. A nice Glasgow smile! A Colombian necktie! A Cleveland steamer!

Mr. Tycho is not pleased with this unfortunate scene before him. “Y’know, Jacobs,” Tycho begins calmly, “I love initiative in my employees. I really do, and you’ve obviously got that in buckets. But the whole ‘screwing with my boss’s plans for the future of the human race’ part?” Ha, well, the man makes a fair point, wouldn’t you say? Gotta carve into this alien chick to learn more about the universe, I always say! Tycho instructs his man to shoot Jacobs on the spot. And he does.

Supergirl (Vol. 6), Issue #4

He died doing what he loved: getting SHKOWed in the chest.

Before she can even process what’s happening, Kara gets cracked upside the head with the butt of a gun and one of the men starts to take back to her chamber. That’s not going to work very well, though, since he’s pretty far from that Kryptonite. Suckers. She breaks the guy’s arm like a twig and starts running toward the rest with a new sense of reinvigoration! “Kal-El…or the man who claimed to be Kal-El…was right. I can feel the yellow sun fueling me,” Kara thinks as she puts on her best stern gonna-tear-your-asses-up face and then starts tearing up said asses.

She plows through the rest of the men standing in her way and runs off, leaving them all writhing on the dang floor like a pile of ninnies. Tycho struggles to regain his composure, and alerts Thorn that the “visitor is loose” (and the “visitor” is currently zipping around the hallways like a flying…uh, girl, I suppose). He tells Thorn further to put the whole station on lockdown and bring the “artifact” (dildo).

Of course, we all know that Kara’s going to beat these punks! For one thing, there are plenty of Supergirl issues left. It’s not like they’ll kill her off and put in Cathy from now on. ACK!

Kara zips to the tensile testing station and retrieves her uniform. Now the fun begins!

As she cracks heads and elbows necks, Supergirl feels powerful and confident. Who wouldn’t? She’s got a taste for blood now!

Supergirl (Vol. 6), Issue #4

Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee. Their bullets can’t hit what their eyes can’t see. Etc.

Tycho and Thorn are in an office using holograms to look for her, but it doesn’t matter. She comes to them crashing through the wall, making her signature entrance like Rude Kramer. Giddy-up! Supergirl floats there in front of them while Tycho stammers out a gambit: “Stop! Before you do anything– I have something you want.” he smirks fiendishly and holds up the “artifact” (dildo). Supergirl gasps.

“That’s a sunstone!” she tells herself, “Father must have put it in my pod! He must have put a message on it for me!” She freezes and stares at him. Tycho will throw it to the floor and bust the thing up into a million pieces if she doesn’t tell him what it is and how to use it. Ahh, Tycho you devil!

Supergirl brings herself down to the floor as an act of cooperation. Tycho keeps asking her questions about the object that she doesn’t understand anyway. He speculates that it’s a storage device holding plans for world domination, or perhaps specifications for a crazy alien weapon. Supergirl just wants to grab the thing when he isn’t looking and fly the fuck away, but she doesn’t want to risk destroying it in the process. OHHHH, THE CONUNDRUM!

Supergirl (Vol. 6), Issue #4

Not shown: Tycho pointing to large diagram of the female reproductive system.

While walking down the hallway, Tycho balances the object on the tip of his finger like a crusty asshole. After fiddling around with it a bit, he claims to have retrieved coordinates to a place in space way, way, waaaaaay far away. Super far. You know where Mars is? Farther than that! Jupiter? Look, honey, we’re talking way farther. Uranus? I could go on and on.

This location is way outside the map. “I’m guessing that’s where you’re from.” Tycho declares with the most punchable face I’ve seen in a comic book thus far, and I’ve read seven Nightwings! Supergirl doesn’t give a shit, she’s still plotting how to snatch this thing from Tycho and break away from this shitty floating space popsicle stand.

Tycho looks her up and down some more with those creepy steel-blue eyeballs. “The thing is, you are much more interesting than anything on this crystal. I want to know your secrets.” Tycho wants to get all up inside her! Gross! He strikes a deal with her: he’ll give back the object (“artifact”) (dildo) in exchange for a drop of her blood. Sound cool?

And although Supergirl can’t understand a word this motherfucker is saying to her, she senses a big “screw this” moment and zaps the floor with her laser vision, right in front of Tycho’s feet, creating a large, round hole in the floor. “Ha! Nice shot! Might want to work on your aim, though.” Tycho scoffs triumphantly, but the wind is taken out of his sails when a panicked Miss Thorn informs him that Supergirl aimed right for the central core! Ha! Eat dick, losers.

Supergirl (Vol. 6), Issue #4

Unless, of course, you want get seven kinds of fucked up. By my count, you’ve endured only four kinds so far.

Shit starts blowing up around the station; Tycho cowers on the floor. Supergirl grabs his arm, rips the “artifact” (big red Krypton dildo) from his hand, and warns him not to come after her again. And, you know what, it’s going to be pretty hard for Simon Tycho to even try because his big, ugly space station is going to blow to kingdom come while he’s still in it.

A still-panicked Thorn implores her boss to evacuate, but Simon Tycho ain’t letting some ANGSTY TEENAGE GIRL run the show! He’s never evacuated before in his life! Except his bowels, which he’s probably doing as we speak. Tycho thinks he can tap a few buttons on the computer to fix everything, but Supergirl did too much damage. “BA-BOOM”. That’s the sound of the space station exploding. “BA-BOOM”. We see a silhouette of Tycho getting dismembered, and then a shot of the space station going kablooey, and then Supergirl floating in space going “buhhhh” as she watches, like, four million people die because of her.

Supergirl’s like “oh shit”, but then gets over it quickly when she remembers that she successfully retrieved the sunstone (BIG RED DILDO). However, oh damn, there’s a crack in it! It must’ve happened when she crash-landed in Siberia. We’ve all been there, sister. I’ve broken quite a few sunstones in my day, crashing willy-nilly on all those alien planets.

She entertains the idea of asking Superman for help, but she still doesn’t trust him. So now what? Perhaps she can try flying home? Yeah, good luck. It might take you a trillion years. Pack a lunch.

Later, elsewhere, the very much alive and not obliterated Miss Thorn wakes up a sleeping, apparently not obliterated, Simon Tycho. She informs this living corpse that the station was destroyed, and he was severely injured, but don’t worry! They fused what was left of his body with the Brain! Cool, huh? So it’s all good! The dude looks like garbage, and that’s saying something because he already looked like a large pile of garbage to begin with.

Supergirl (Vol. 6), Issue #4

Gross. He looks like boxing mannequin.

One of Tycho’s guard dudes is in the room, all banged up, arm in a sling, blood on his uniform. Tycho garbles a question at him: “You fuhhh… fought guh… girl… b-blood on you… your blood?” And the guard says “No sir! Negative sir! That is not my blood sir! I think it’s the girl’s blood sir! The girl bled her blood on me sir!”

Tycho starts snickering. This guy is all fucked up, missing an eye, has no penis anymore, and still thinks he has the upper hand.

“I win,” he manages to eke out, smiling, looking like a large pile of shitty stinky garbage.

Final Thoughts

This is way better than the first New 52 Action Comics storyline. Way better. Hopefully it stays that way for two more issues! Pressure’s on, Supergirl. Make me proud, son.

East of West. Issue #9

East of West, Issue #9 – “Hunter”

* Part 9 of 15 of the The Apocalypse: Year One storyline *

Welcome to Ghostliness & Nerfherders Presents: East of West, Issue #9 – “Hunter”! In the previous installment, Death and his cronies spend two days descending some beneath-the-lake stairs and he finds what he’s looking for: a chained-up naked lady with a throbbing external brain and tentacle eyeballs! We can’t all be so lucky. Her name is Oracle, and after a fair trade, she’s going to help Death find his son.

Meanwhile, Madame President Antonia LeVay made a promise to her Horsemen buddies that she’d keep the peace among her people. So she imposes martial law and then personally goes down to the street and kills a few rioters in order to make an example of them.

Just another day in 2064! Year 45 of the Covid Pandemic! I wonder if that’s mentioned at all in this series.


East of West, Issue #9 [January, 2014]
Written by: Jonathan Hickman
“Hunter”

East of West, Issue #9

Crown Prince John Freeman of the Kingdom of New Orleans (I call him Lenny Kravitz!) rolls off some broad in his big regal bed in his castle, or whatever. We haven’t seen him since Issue #6 when Ezra Orion set up that “there’s a traitor among our ranks” congregation and Chamberlain threw Solomon under the bus.

Freeman is nude in front of his massive 2000″ TV (he got it from Frank), where Madame President Shooter McGavin’s big, pinched face is all over the screen. She asks Freeman if he can be counted on. “Fool of a woman,” he mutters to himself as he starts getting dressed, “Trying to make her weakness mine…”

His lady’s in the bed. “How many times are you gonna watch that?” she whines at him. He whines right back: “If I linger over making a decision, it isn’t because I’m indecisive. Sometimes there are greater concerns…like exposure and keeping my head attached to my neck.”

“Well then, tell me Prince…can you be counted on?” his nude sex lady asks. And John Freeman is like “Who cares? Who gives a shit? I’ll end up talking to dad about something he couldn’t give two shits about. Plus, that guy barely has any clout anyway. This is stupid.” I mean, he’s a little bit more articulate than that but I like my words better.

And Freeman’s nude sex lady tells him that he can’t be counted on anyway! He’s untrustworthy, he’s a rogue, he’s erratic, and, at his very best, he’s a scoundrel! She walks up behind him and hugs him as they both look over the balcony at the astonishing city that New Orleans has become in the futury future over here.

“I can be counted on…for the things that matter.”

What fairness is this? Blindness in a world full of people refusing to use their eyes?

East of West, Issue #9

Oh look, I’m getting another premonition…yes, you will give me $400,000 in cash…what’s that, another premonition?…and some Olive Garden gift cards.

Death and Oracle, millions of miles below a lake or somethin’, need to work out a deal. Death needs to find his son, you dig? And Oracle’s gonna help. “And in return I’ll give you whatever it is you want. It’s my whole proffer…you won’t do better than that,” Death propositions like a real smooth operator. “And if I want more?” Oracle asks, grinning a sickly grin under her godawful little tentacle eyeballs. “Not gonna haggle,” Death answers simply. “Got somethin’ on your mind, let’s hear it.”

And Oracle chokes out some sinister laughter. She sees everything dingus, and she already sees what Death is willing to offer, and it fucking sucks ass! He’s gonna start groveling and begging and crying and weeping at her, it’s a real sorry sight to behold. Oracle goes on to say that there’s a version of Death who, out of pride, gives up and takes his business elsewhere. He will return months later with less than what he has now. That’s the dumb Death. The other version of Death will pay Oracle’s price now, and he will continue his journey with way more hope to succeed. In both cases, Oracle’s price will be the exact same, so Death is better off just paying it now. Don’t be a bitch. This is a warning!

And Death is like “Just tell me what you want, you old hag.”

East of West, Issue #9

Freedom is overrated. I want a motherfucking dinosaur.

And Oracle is like “NO! Not yet. I want to string you along just a little bit longer! FIRST, I want you to ask for forgiveness! Ha! THEN, I want you to try to guess what I want! Ha ha! Go on, now. HERE’S A HINT: penis in the vagina! Or do I? Heh heh, here it is right here, sir. Come say hello!”

Yeah, anyway, Death has a lot more patience with all this than someone in his situation should, I would think. He plays along, takes off his hat, etc. “What we did was wrong. We thought it was the right thing to do…but that was a simpler time. I regret it…and if I could take it back I would.”

“That sincere enough for you?” Death snarls, “Now what’s it gonna be?”

They lean in closer and closer to each other’s faces. They’re practically smoochin’ at this point, no kidding. The panel after the one shown above shows their mouths about an inch away from each other. “So what then?” Death asks once more. “I want what I lost.” Oracle responds, finally. “I see…but I want to see again.” These responses come over a flashback of an angry young woman surrounded by the earlier incarnations of the four Horsemen. War is shown to jump on top of the woman and rip her eyeballs from their sockets.

Death is taken aback, now horrified as one socket’s-worth of Oracle’s eye tentacles start poking and prodding around one of his own eyeballs. With a “SPLURT”, she extracts Death’s eye right out of his head. It pops itself into place within her own wretched skull.

East of West, Issue #9

The flirting is starting to get a little out of hand.

“Yesss… That’s better. Now… about your son…”

JEEZUS H. CHRIST, sir. Yeah, let’s move on from that for now goddamnit. Crown Prince John Q. Honeybottom, Zoë Kravitz’s dad, hangs out in the entertainment district of New Orleans. He listens to a jazz guy doing his jazz thing, bleating and blorting on a trumpet, while another guy who claims to be another John Freeman tries to talk to him: “Nine. I’m John Freeman the Ninth… and very soon, I plan on being the Eighth.” Listen, this twerpy little masturbator doesn’t even look like he can wipe his own stupid butt yet, even I’m annoyed already.

The John Freeman we East of West fans all know and love, Mr. Eight, tells this kid to go screw! But this kid will NOT go screw! Mr. Nine over here has been training with warmasters and vampire slayers and Mr. Miyagis across this whole Kingdom! You don’t wanna fuck with him, bro. Mr. Eight groans and says “Fine. Outside.”

East of West, Issue #9

The “best warmasters”? Like who? Steve? Steve is terrible!

Outside! Mr. Eight has his back to the kid and starts schooling him on what it means to be Mr. Nine, the ninth prince in a prosperous kingdom. It means you are wealthy beyond belief and you are not important enough to be ever bothered by anybody. You can literally do anything with your life. “In truth… I envy you. Which is why I find this all so disappointing. You’re too young and too rich to be covetous, brother. So let this be a lesson… LEARN. YOUR. PLACE!”

And with each word, Kravitz takes out each one of Mr. Nine’s bodyguards with blasts from his Chosen guns! He blasts clean through Nine’s leg, amputating it right at the…something. He ain’t got much of a leg left, that’s for sure.

“Remember what I taught you here today… Or when I become king, there will be one less prince in the court.”

Nine cradles his gross stump.

Large white transition page with gray text ahoy.

There is the throne. Then there is everything else.

So now we learn that Kravitz himself is a covetous douchebag, missing the irony completely I imagine. I’m looking forward to seeing how this completely backfires on him by Issue #25, where he’ll be discovered dead in a pool of his own urine. And by that I mean someone forces him to piss into a wading pool until it’s full enough to be forced to drown in it. Death starts getting creative.

So now, Prince Freeman the VIII requests an audience with the king at the Royal Palace. Per one of the royal lickspittles, the king was expecting him. Freeman’s like “no shit, dork” and he makes his way into the royal-ass chambers.

“Perfect Father, Lion to the People… Your Majesty… I present your son… The Crown Prince, John Freeman.” *blorting trumpets* And lo, HE IS ANNOUNCED. Johnny Boy bends his knee to the king. “Hello Father, it is good to see you.”

And before I even turn the page on this book, you better believe we’re going to get a heaping helping of Daddy Issues. East of West should be renamed.

John Freeman Numero Uno looks like a fat, angry pharaoh. “You’re late,” he grunts. King Slouchy asks his sexy vizier how many other sons he has, not counting this whelp before him. “An impressive fourteen, Your Majesty,” she replies. Pops tells Freeman 8 that he better get cracking, that’s a lot of siblings to slaughter to earn the throne. “I would think that would add some urgency to your steps.”

East of West, Issue #9

“We ask you humbly: don’t scroll away. We depend on donations, but fewer than 2% give.”

King Grump is wise to his son’s motivations and asks him to play LeVay’s message to him. The vizier reminds Freeman 8 that “all communications belong to the State – the State is the King – the King must know all things”. ROLL THE TAPE! And Freeman 8 is like “oh shit, ugh, shit shit shit”.

We get to see LeVay’s full message to John Freeman VIII from the beginning of the issue. Her big, emaciated face fills up the royal chamber. “Crown Prince Freeman… I am contacting you on a most urgent matter.” she begins, and then it’s all BLAH BLAH BLAH from there!

Long story short, she informs him about the upheaval and unrest going on in the Union. It’s all very sad. Economic collapse is imminent, and that sucks. Now’s the time for some damn assistance in the name of the Message! After all, the Chosen all need to work together, ya know? So tell your fat dad to cough up some money to help her country. Peace.

Dad’s hardly impressed. “What is this? More of your religion?” he asks poutily. “I cannot help what I believe, Father. I believe what I was taught…” Sonny Boy counters, “You always made sure I had the very best of teachers.”

King Dad has nothing to say about this immediately. At least not in front of the vizier. “Leave us.” he instructs, and she gives Freeman 8 a flirty glance before she steps out. She wants that dick, son.

We’re behind the curtain now, friends. “I have never minded your dalliances with… your faith. We all need our secret passions, the necessary distractions from this cruel and unkind world…” Father Dearest begins. Some day, though, you’ll be king. Even though you have seven brothers ahead of you to kill and seven brothers behind you that will try to murder you in a wading pool full of your own piss, you’ll be king some day. So grow the fuck up. Also, I’m worried that you’re not taking this seriously!

“Do you doubt my loyalty, Father?”
“Do you not give me a reason, my son?”

Freeman 8 argues that his decision to help the Union in the name of the Message is not wrong. After all, he always thought that alliances must be maintained, no? “Not always.” says Mr. King. He tells his son about the Civil War, the fake alternate history Civil War. I don’t remember much about it! You can read about what I had to say about it in the first issue. The freedmen whipped some ass and were able to keep a generous portion of land that they earned with blood. Decades later, after securing control of most of the Gulf of Mexico (or whatever it’s called in 2064) and reaping its sweet, sweet, oily benefits, the Kingdom of New Orleans is now hella powerful. And the Union sucks and has no money.

So here’s the deal: a lot of shit is going down. The Republic of Texas has closed its borders. The Endless Nation is starting to stir the pot. House of Mao is going to start fucking with everyone soon. In fact, they already have. Under Xiaolian’s rule, she’s already called in her debts from the Union. No ifs, ands, or buts! That’s why they’re currently falling apart! “War is…inevitable. Soon everyone will be forced to choose sides – and to choose between the many things that pull at them. Including you and I,” warns the Cuddly Pharaoh.

So, snotnose, don’t give in. The Kingdom of New Orleans needs to keep their position, their power, and their wealth. Now’s not the time to finance some shithole like the Union just because some stupid lady in charge of some shithole like the Union is using religious bullshit to schmooze money out of us!

So don’t let her.

East of West, Issue #9

Here, son, try buying them with a few of these Olive Garden gift cards I got from the Oracle!

Final Thoughts

Quite an unexpected twist to see the Freeman Father and Son relationship not completely strained to predictable limits.

It’s also fun to see more of the political drama surrounding the Seven Nations of America. The story is getting denser and denser, my friends. Like a nice fruitcake.