The Amazing Spider-Man (Vol. 3), Issue #6

* Part 6 of 6 of the Parker Luck storyline *

Welcome to Loneliness & Cheeseburgers Presents: The Amazing Spider-Man (Vol. 3), Issue #6! In the previous installment, Spider-Man is going to get unmasked on live TV, and J. Jonah Jameson is here for it!

The boner would be straining through his pants if it wasn’t two inches long. Dude is definitely compensating is all I’m saying.

Amazing Spider-Man (Vol. 3), Issue #6 [November, 2014]
Written by: Dan Slott

Amazing Spider-Man (Vol. 3), Issue #6

Jameson is grinning like a mad baboon. Anna Maria Marconi is at home watching TV going “oh dear”. Aunt May is at home watching TV going “oh dear”. Everyone at the Daily Bugle is watching TV going “fuck that Jameson guy, I’m glad we finally took the 45 sexual harassment complaints seriously and booted his ass out of here”.

What’s happening, though, is that Jameson is right in front of the shot. Everyone – all the home viewers – are wondering why the fuck he won’t get out of the way. Spider-Man is, indeed, thoroughly unmasked, but no one can see him. No one in the studio can either, apparently, because of shadows? Maybe?

Silk saves Spidey’s identity by thwipping gooey web cum all over his face. Jameson is done with his showboating and asks if the cameraman got the shot of unmasked Spidey. After a meek “nope”, Jameson belts out a hearty “NOOOOOOO!” and that’s a wrap, folks!

Black Cat is livid! “Cheer up,” says Silk. “He’s an average-looking white guy with brown hair. Sure you’ll find another. Must be millions of ‘em in New York.”

Silk then picks Spidey up by his butt and swings on out of there before Black Cat or Electro can stop her. Parker later compliments her on her first supervillain encounter. Not too shabby! Next time be quippier, like “that’s gotta hurt!” or “ramalama ding dong!”

Black Cat and Electro watch, dejected. So Spidey’s got some extra muscle? Maybe some extra muscle is what they need, too…

The Amazing Spider-Man (Vol. 3), Issue #6

I’ll get you next time, Gadget! Next time!

The Bar with No Name (catchy!), where all of New York’s finest supervillains rub elbows and snack on Cheez Whiz crackers, contains a bunch of ne’er-do-wells toasting someone named Francine. I don’t know who Francine is, but it’s an ugly name and if you’re named Francine then get the hell off my blog and into a dumpster where you belong.

Black Cat enters the bar, but she’s not welcome there. She’s looking for a few burly big men to join her crew, but they don’t wanna. Mostly it’s because she’s currently working with Electro, and he’s the one that killed Francine to death. Oh yeah! I remember now! She was the Hot Topic trash fire from Issue #2. RIP.

Also, Parker Industries is going to help build the biggest supervillain prison the city has ever known! All because of Electro’s wack-ass nonsense! So shove it, lady.

We now turn to the Apartment of Peter and Marconi (bone buddies? You decide!) Parker’s face is still covered with wet jizz. Maria brings solvents and towels. First he webbed up his butt, now he webbed up his head. What’s next?? Let your imagination run wild.

They’ve got to hurry getting all that web junk off of him since he’s giving a presentation on his big, new Electro trap that his company has been working on. Sajani was going to do it, but she’s… uh… ahem… TIED UP at the moment. As they say. And Silk wants to tag along, so the more the merrier!

Speaking of Sajani, who is tired up at the moment, we return to Electro and Black Cat’s lair where Electro is hammering Sajani for information about the Electro trap. Will it cure? Answer the question, ho! He doesn’t want to accidentally kill anyone anymore, please.

The Amazing Spider-Man (Vol. 3), Issue #6

Or, at the very least, make you into some sort of horrible shrieking rhinoceros, if you prefer.

Sajani looks like she’s ready to say anything she can that will appease the scary sparking man, but luckily Black Cat interrupts and calls Electro into the other room. Now it’s just Sajani and Black Cat! Unluckily for you, sister, that might be even more dangerous. So cough up the details on this Anti-Electro bullshit invention. We’re going to need it before the storyline is over!

Meanwhile, Parker is giving his presentation to the cops at the waterfront and it sounds like it’s not going well. The machine costs a fortune, it only works on Electro, and you have to catch him first and, kinda… you gotta kinda coax him into the machine, you know? Give him a little nudgy nudgy. Little do they suspect that Black Cat and Electro are at the waterfront now on account of Sajani spilling the beans all over the place. They’re in shitty disguises that wouldn’t even fool the most intrepid of Mr. Magoos.

Black Cat knows everything about the machine. How to turn it on (on switch), how to turn it off (off switch), and even how to put the machine in reverse (hit it with a bat).

After sensing Black Cat and Electro, Parker and Cindy suit up! Marconi thinks it’s rude to just leave her, but whatever. Superheroes are so selfish. Not only that, but Parker orders Marconi to carry out the demonstration! Have fun, toots!

Silk gets impatient waiting for Parker to squeeze into his Spidey tighties. She decides that Spidey needs some extra unmasking protection and spooges all over him again. Seems kind of unnecessary, but I don’t want to ruin anyone’s sexy good time.

The Amazing Spider-Man (Vol. 3), Issue #6

Money shots all around!

The 2’11” Anna Maria Marconi strolls onto the premises and declares the demonstration cancelled. Everyone from the scientists to the police personnel is pissed, but the short lady doesn’t give a shit.

A Fact Channel helicopter hovers over the site, looking to get some tasty scoops on the secret Parker Industries project. Electro and Black Cat get perturbed, and Black Cat maintains the attention on herself. “Over here! We’re about to start!” she says as Marconi complains. The demonstration will continue whether anyone likes it or not! “We’re going to show you what these toys can do in the wrong hands. How they can amp up our powers like never before!”

Sounds peachy, you horrible bad guy you. Too bad the good guys with the webs and the quips are showing up to put a stop to it. Electro tries to spark them, but the webbing is an insulator! Silk gets to cum all over Electro while Spidey takes care of Black Cat.

Panels are replete with blue and white electrification zappy goodness. This is because Black Cat decided to crank up the anti-Electro machine and fuck up his powers to the point where he’s going to explode into a pile of gore and piss pretty soon. Electro is less than pleased with this uncomfortable situation. “Cat! Stop it! Tearing me apart! Into a billion pieces! It’s killing me! It’s — AAARHHH!

Spider-Man almost starts crying! This isn’t like Black Cat! Black Cat isn’t some ruthless torture-murder type person. Black Cat begs to differ, and this is her experiment now, bitch. Step aside or attempt to fight, either is good for her. Maybe we can finally prove who’s in the noggin’ of yours: Spider-Man or Doc Ock.

The Amazing Spider-Man (Vol. 3), Issue #6

Electro! Buddy! I love you and I’m going to save you for some reason!

So Spider-Man decides to jump into the fire (or the electricity) and grab Electro’s fizzling, sparking body. Silk’s insulation should work, right? Hopefully? Wouldn’t that be just convenient as all hell?

The Fact Channel helicopter is thrilled to be catching everything on tape. J. Jonah Jameson will positively orgasm with delight over all of this!

Spider-Man suddenly realizes his whole jump-on-top-of-Electro plan was stupid. Electro’s going to break apart into millions of pieces anyway. Spidey’s gonna get fried to kingdom come. And too bad Black Cat has really fallen ass over ankles into the dark side. She’s not going to stop a thing, especially because she’s super salty that Spider-Man ruined her shitty life. A Spidey murder will help her start fresh! That’s the ticket!

At the last second before the sweet, sweet oblivion of death, Silk thwips a couple of webs on the dying duo and plucks them out of harm’s way. Spidey instructs her to fashion up a webpod so they can escape web-style, but Silk has one lingering question amidst all the chaos: “Why’d you risk everything for one of your worst enemies?”

Well, dear, it’s very simple. Spider-Man is a moron. i.e. with great power comes great responsibility. It’s a very moral high ground. It sickens me.

Silk whips up a cozy web blanket fort for the three of them. They’ll leave Black Cat out to continue creating electricity or whatever it is that she wants to do with her time. Later, the news stories report an enormous explosion leaving nothing behind except a spider man, a spider woman, a de-powered Electro, and no Black Cat. Oh yeah, everyone else on the premises was shuffled off to safety by Marconi.

Jameson yells at the camera: “Police Chief Pratchett lays the blame on the poor security provided by Parker Industries. But this reporter knows different! This is all the fault of that masked menace some men called The Amazing Spider-Man!”

While Jameson rants to deaf ears, Cindy Moon shows up to get a job at Fact Channel! It’s about time you contribute to society, young lady. None of this trapped in a bunker business for you anymore, damnit.

At a secret gambling parlor on the Lower East Side, Black Cat returns with a smirky “I told ya so”, and all the awful villainous men in the joint are like “hey, you’re pretty cool after all!” Black Cat has amassed a small army, and no one’s gonna stop her now!

Sajani breaks out of her cuffs and returns to society.

The Amazing Spider-Man (Vol. 3), Issue #6

Who are you again?

Marconi tends to Parker’s burn wounds. None of this was worth it, she argues. Black Cat is still on the prowl. The whole city is mad at them. This Morlun guy who everyone forgot about might show up to kill people any minute. “What’s the win here, Pete?”

Parker smiles. They fixed Electro! *crickets*

No one died! *crickets*

Whatever. Marconi finds this rather noble. Parker was sexier when he was Doc Ock, but I guess they can still be friends, right?

Sajani returns to the office to tell her story. She had to give up the goods: “Info on tonight’s test. Where we were conducting it. Schematics of the device. I’m sorry.”

You better be sorry, buster. Consider yourself fired and destined for Hell. Marconi calls Sajani lucky for getting out alive. Sajani has nagging feelings about everything…

A flashback shows the following: Sajani would have said everything to get out of her predicament. “My partner’s an idiot,” she told Black Cat. “Building traps for supervillains? Know the profit margin on that? Worst business model ever. Listen up, I’ll tell you exactly how to destroy it.”

Later, Sajani whispers to Marconi that she’s going to need backup to thwart Parker’s shitty future plans. Can she be counted on?

And Parker thinks everything is gravy and roses. He’s got resources, a company, and good friends on his side! He’s gonna stop all kinds of baddies! “I can feel it. We’re gonna change the world! This is going to work!”

Final Thoughts

Well, that certainly was an ending! Little Peter Parker is going to get a rude awakening when literally everyone he knows is completely against his plans!

Except for Cindy Moon, of course, but she’ll be too busy Fact Channeling his failures that she won’t have time to actually help him with anything.

Delicious.


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Betty (Vol. 1), Issue #179

Welcome to Archieness & Riverdalers Presents: Betty (Vol. 1), Issue #179!

Betty (Vol. 1) , Issue #179 [June, 2009]

Betty (Vol. 1), Issue 179

”Those Nasty Budget Cuts!” – George Gladir

Let’s take a look at that cover art for a second. It seems to me that Green Day has arrived in Riverdale for a concert and they were immediately arrested for suspicion of drug possession and aircraft hijacking. Betty knows they’re innocent, and her protests will be heard!

Principal Weatherbee watches a picket line outside the school in disgust. The parents are right to protest the school’s budget cuts, but what can Weatherbee do? He’s only ONE man! He’s not even TWO men even though he looks he weighs enough for it! Ha! Rude! Body shaming is rude even though I do it in the mirror every morning and evening,

“A group of girls would like to stage a Green Day event on school premises this Saturday!” announces Miss Grundy. I’m going to have to refrain from talking about Billie Joe Armstrong for the rest of this story, as much as I’m urged to. Weatherbee says this Green Day event is out of the question! Good Riddance! Wake him when September ends!

Betty and her buds enter Weatherbee’s office to tell him that the Green Day thing won’t cost even a pretty penny! Even the prettiest of pennies. Not even Penny Marshall, who I’d consider handsome and also she died in 2018. It’s all volunteer-based, baby!

Betty (Vol. 1), Issue 179

Go suck a Dookie, Weatherbee.

Weatherbee won’t have it. He thinks money will have to be involved SOMEWHERE, and it’s not coming out of his smelly pockets. “We’ve already had to cancel orders for computers,” he says, eliminating everyone’s dream of owning Encarta ‘95, “and other much-needed supplies!”

Betty and her very environmentally friendly pals want to do the Green Day event anyway even if Weatherbee is being a pee-soaked blanket. A real stick in the cunt. Veronica overhears Betty complaining and offers a vacant lot. Her dad has those just lying around everywhere! He’d be happy to let you use one for $850 per hour!

Capital! They set up on Saturday! There’s a whole crowd waiting to get into the lot, probably because there are promises to meet Gerard Butler and have him sign a baseball or something.

Assistant Principal Rita points out all the neato keen booths they have set up on the lot. “Low Energy Homes”! “Mulching and Composting”! “Tree Planting”! It’s like a boring person’s paradise! Miss Grundy is impressed with the recycling bin! You can throw anything in there and it might possibly be recycled if someone gives enough of a shit! Wow!

The recycling proceeds go directly to Riverdale High, so Weatherbee is going to love those extra six nickels. Maybe he can buy a fifth of a Snickers bar. Actually, haha, they raised enough to restore the major budget cuts! Ha ha ha, what?! That’s pretty sad! A pile of cans saved the school?? I’m dumbfounded!

So is Mr. Weatherbee! He spent about 95% of the money on a stupid green suit, complete with a green tie and a green cane. He looks like a fucking leprechaun. “SO WHEN’S OUR NEXT GREEN DAY?!” he yells happily as Betty vomits in the corner.

”Greeting Card” – Mike Pellowski

Betty’s going to start her new job at Megamart today! She’s going to be the first greeter ever hired under the age of 81. She’ll be making $4.95 per hour and she’ll be paid in vouchers for the Little Caesar’s that’s tucked away in the corner of the store that constantly smells like a carnival.

I wrote all that stuff about Betty being a greeter before she even reveals that she’s going to actually be a greeter. Ho-Lee Shit.

Betty (Vol. 1), Issue 179

No cussing or ethnic slurs today, Betty. We had already talked about this, remember?

Betty is a perfect greeter! She has clean teeth and a non-Fran Drescher laugh and her blonde hair feels like vermicelli. “I think Betty is going to be the best greeter we ever had!” says the small, portly manager whose nametag is just an incomprehensible scribble.

“This job should be a cinch,” Betty thinks, puttin’ on the ol’ smile. Just wait until some 10-year-old freak throws balloons filled with maple syrup at her. This basically is a WalMart, after all.

What ends up happening is that Betty greets SO enthusiastically that it’s scaring off some of the more frequent centenarian customers. “HELLO, I’M BETTY! WELCOME TO MEGAMART! THE FRIENDLY STORE!” She is treated like a dullard. Who could blame anyone?

Betty is so exhausted from her first day saying hello to strangers that she has nightmares about how shitty her job actually is. Kids are mean, old ladies are mean, strange men in trench coats are extra mean.

Betty (Vol. 1), Issue 179

Betty’s so nightmare-stressed that she’s literally pooping her pants.

By the time she wakes up, she’s already running late for another 19-hour shift. “GRRR!! YEAH!” she says to her mom in a sleep-addled tizzy. “WELCOME TO STINKIN’ MEGAMART!! NOW GET IN HERE AND BUY SOMETHING!!”

We all learn that being a greeter sucks so fucking much that even one day of it is torture murder. Betty quits her job. The end.

”Dog Daze” – Mike Pellowski

One day Betty brings home a yapping little rat named Precious. It’s Mrs. Gray’s pet dog and she brought it home to ruin her parents’ lives for a few days. What do you say, Mom and Dad. Can Betty babysit this little walking poop eater?

All Dad cares about is if the dog is a) well-behaved, and b) housebroken. And Betty’s like “HA HA OF COURSE while simultaneously trying to hide the fact that Precious is emptying a gallon of pee all over her hands as she speaks. “Don’t worry, Hal,” says Mrs. Cooper. “A dog that size won’t be any trouble at all!”

Famous last words, Mamacita. Dad comes home after a long day at the salt mines where he mines salt for as much money as Betty made as a Megamart greeter. “All I want to do is park in my easy chair and relax until dinner!” he says, exclamation point and all. But the dog is sitting in the chair already, and it bites the seat of Hal’s pants right off his fatass butt. He gives Betty stern looks while she defends the dog for being in unfamiliar surroundings.

Betty (Vol. 1), Issue 179

The damn dog is sexually harassing me like Homer in that one episode with the gummy Venus de Milo.

Later, during dinner, the family spends a hell of time trying to stop the dog from jumping on the table and eating their food. They chase the dog all over the house for eight hours while their food turns into lumps of ice on their plates!

Later, when Betty goes to bed, she finds the dog cramping her style yet again! “Precious! Get off of my bed! You sleep on the floor! DOWN, GIRL!!” she yells futilely at the little mutt. It starts yipping at her until she gives up and lets it sleep in her bed.

Yes, I know I keep calling Precious an “it”. I don’t fucking care. I hate this dog and I want to punt it into the sun.

It scratches the bedroom door at 4am. It continues to steal seats from Dad. It is a constant nuisance until Mrs. Gray (who looks like the old lady from the Looney Tunes cartoons) returns to pick up her little fucker.

“Would you like to tell Precious goodbye now?” she asks.

“We sure would, Mrs. Gray!” responds Betty.

“GOODBYE, PRECIOUS! YIP! YIP! YIPPIE!” all the Coopers bellow.

Mrs. Gray is confused because that goodbye was inane and embarrassing. The end.

”Yo, Taxi!” – Bill Golliher

Betty rolls up in her 1955 Ford Station Wagon next to Archie and Jughead, who are happily minding their own business pretending Betty doesn’t exist. “Care for a ride?” she asks the two, since apparently Archie drove his own car off of a cliff and needs to hoof it until Mr. Andrews let’s him in the driver’s seat of any car ever again. Jughead accepts! Off to Pop’s!

“So what’s the story with your wheels?” Betty asks.

“The usual! It’s in the shop and I can’t afford the repairs!” Archie says, having not had a part-time job since 1971. Well, that ain’t no problem! Betty’s Taxi Service is up and running, and guess what ho? This ride ain’t gonna be free.

The three of them enjoy a long evening at Pop’s drinking phosphates and purchasing suckling sweets! 23-skidoo!

Betty (Vol. 1), Issue 179

Oh no! Someone roofied my Pop’s Milkshake! Wakka wakka!

Betty is woken up while hungover the next morning. Archie is in a pickle! He has morning detention after giving a kid a swirlie and drowning him in a hilarious accident! And both his parents left for work early! Nertz!

Yawning, Betty agrees to give him a ride even though she’s addled by 45 minutes of sleep. Betty looks like as she picks up Archie, who is too insensitive to not tell her she looks like shit. Betty’s a lifesaver, at any rate! And she’s going to give him a ride to work that night, too (Archie suddenly got a job as a fluffer on a porn set in the abandoned warehouse by the docks in the bad part of town near all the sulfur mines). Betty couldn’t be “happier”.

Archie arrives at the pizza place where he works, sorry about all that made up shit! His boss is all like “Mamma Mia, can you-a get your friend to deliver-a this pizza since-a my driver called in a sick-a!” And Betty grumbles and mumbles and agrees because she’s the biggest pushover doormat I’ve ever seen in a comic book. There are dollar signs in Archie’s eyes. There’s no backing out of it this time!

Betty (Vol. 1), Issue 179

In this economy?? More like $80 and you can tell Archie to eat your poo.

Later, Archie has collected hella tips and won’t give a dime to Betty. “I should have my car fixed in no time!” Archie says, which is Betty’s only incentive to keep carting his degenerate ass around town. Now her car smells like anchovies too, by the way. And not the good kind of anchovies that smell like lilacs and summer cantaloupe. The bad kind of anchovies that smell like fish and anchovies.

The next night, Archie needs a ride to the Pennyback concert. It’s like Nickelback only four cents worse! The roads are so clogged up concertgoers that it takes them the duration of a person rolling their eyes at a Nickelback song to get through traffic (and that’s a long time!) At least Betty will get to see the show and–

“I’ll get out here so I won’t be late. Veronica hates that!”

“VERONICA?!” Betty bellows bettily. She got all dressed to the nines for this?! Fudge that! She kicks Archie out of the car and speeds off. “Betty Cooper is no one’s fool! Not even yours!!”

The next morning, Archie “apologizes” by saying that he needs help getting to detention again. This time Betty charges Archie $6.25 for the inconvenience. “Say hello to the taxi meter I borrowed!” she says quite plainly as if we all have access to taxi meters. “If you keep treating me like a taxi I’m going to charge you like one.”

Archie goes “!”

Eventually, Archie garners enough dough to pay for his car repairs. Thank heavenly Father of Almighty Lord our Jesus. He treats Betty to a ride in his hooptie.

“Of all the nerve!” Betty says disgustedly. “You have a meter too!”

“Yes! And it’s just for you! Look carefully…”

Betty (Vol. 1), Issue 179

BLECH! Awful. I’d rather read Blondie.

Final Thoughts

“Dear Betty, I have a loose thread in my underwear and if I pull it then it’ll unravel quickly while I comically spin like a top. What should I do?”

“Good question, Tom! Try buying velvet or silk underwear so you can walk around like Ron Jeremy and keep those pesky threads from sending you into a dizzy tizzy! Thanks for writing!”


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Star Wars: Bloodline by Claudia Gray

Star Wars Storytime Disclaimer: There will be spoilers. If you’re even remotely interested in this book and you haven’t read it, or if you’ll be mad if you accidentally read any possible spoilers about it, I’m going to chalk it up to “not my fucking problem”. You have been warned. Also, this is a feature about reading. You came here to read about books, so pictures in these posts will be scarce. Be an adult.

Star Wars: Bloodline
by Claudia Gray

Publication Date:
May 3, 2016

Timeframe:
28 ABY

Synopsis:
After the fall of the Empire, the Senate is split into the Populist and Centrist parties. Both profess the goal of restoring the Republic, though they are unable to set aside their opposing views. Tired of the pointless bickering within the Senate, Leia takes on one final mission before retiring. However, the mission proves to be bigger than she originally thought, inducing chaos and unveiling corruption.

Star Wars: Bloodline

GUEST REVIEW!

Star Wars: Bloodline

Special guest reviewer Jaysson Monstertruck!

Are you sure that none of my friends will see this page? I can’t let any of the guys know I’m some kind of Star Wars faggot or anything. It’s cool though, because there’s nothing wrong with being gay, it’s just that… you know, I don’t want any of the guys to think I’m some kind of faggot.

My bedroom is full of cool shit like football trophies and posters with hot chicks on them like Selena Gomez and, uh, iCarly. And whatever else kids my age are into, I don’t fucking know. What my parents and friends don’t know is that my closet is stashed with, like, 100 lightsabers and Criterion Collection versions of all the Star Wars movies and a life-size R2-D2 replica and about a hundred of these stupid books. Don’t ask me where a 14-year-old kid like me got the money to buy this shit without his parents knowing, what the fuck do I know? Maybe you should stop being such a fucking faggot about it and let me talk. What the fuck was I saying? Oh yeah.

So I don’t normally read books since it’s all gay and stupid, like all the shit Ms. Carpenter wants us to read. Like To Kill a Mockingbird and Mein Kampf and shit like that. I have a hard time with it since I think I have undiagnosed dyslexia or something and it’s tough to even read the articles in my brother’s porno mags without getting distracted by, you know… other things. Do 14-year-olds’ older brothers even buy porn mags anymore? What is this, 1982? What the fuck am I even talking about?

Anyway, Star Wars: Bloodline is a book about how Princess Leia’s dad was Darth Vader and nobody is cool about it. I usually don’t read books about girls, but this is Star Wars and Leia’s a baller so I was confident enough in my masculinity to read this in my closet with a flashlight every night at around 11:30 when I knew my parents were either sleeping or doing the thing that makes the bed springs squeak. There was a shit-ton of political stuff that went right over my head, like galactic senates and Populists and Centrists and who cares? My civics teacher Mr. Wharton gave me a D- on my essay about the branches of government because I talked about Ben Carson and why he is a great surgeon but a complete moron in every other way. I learned this from my friend Noah who talks about Ben Carson a little too much. I don’t know why the fuck that kid is so into Ben Carson. Nobody is into Ben Carson.

I guess what I’m saying is that Bloodline was probably not for me. Political stuff sucks and besides the whole thing about busting the guy’s cartel and killing him with thousands of tons of water, I was bored shitless and there wasn’t a single lightsaber battle. No Jedis at all. They just talked about how Luke is jacking off somewhere on some remote planet like a complete faggot.

I hope my friends don’t see this. I’m the only guy on the football team who still gets his head in the toilet.

TOM’S REVIEW!

Star Wars: Bloodline

Tom, the Cool Guy

First of all, if I had a handjob every time someone in this book arched an eyebrow, then I must be gettin’ jerked by an octopus!

Second of all, once this book gets going it’s very enjoyable. But it took a bit of time to establish the Populists vs. Centrists political rivalry (and it’s obvious to me which party is which with respect to American politics) and Princess Leia’s overall disillusionment with the Senate. Populists want autonomy for each planet, and Centrists want a centralized government body for the whole galaxy. While the book paints the Populists as the liberal good guys and the Centrists as the authoritative bad guys, in comes young Centrist Senator Ransolm Casterfo, a man who hated the Empire but likes the idea of the Empire. Leia and Casterfo butt heads for exactly three pages before they start seeing eye-to-eye on many issues… but really, it’s Casterfo that bends harder toward Leia’s ideology than the other way around. These two build a trust and a friendship over the course of the book, almost teetering on inappropriately sexual even though you could tell Claudia Gray did her best to keep it in check by never hinting that either found the other attractive, nor spurring jealousy over Leia’s marriage to Han Solo. In real life, though, the friendship they build would have likely been problematic.

It turned into a superficial crime drama for a bit of time as Leia, Casterfo, and their ragtag team of young idealists try to gather information about a crime lord named Rinnrivin Di, his ever-expanding and threatening cartel, and the mysterious organization that is behind Rinnrivin’s operation. A lot of this part of the novel acts as a by-the-book police procedural meant as a vehicle for Leia and Casterfo to work together and build trust. It finally gets very interesting, probably about halfway or through the novel, when Casterfo is informed by a fellow Centrist senator (and First Order agent) named Lady Carise Sindian that Leia is the daughter of Darth Vader. Finally, the “bloodline” part of Bloodline comes into play! He feels betrayed and reveals this information to the entire Galactic Senate for pesky reasons like “integrity” and “honor”. Chaos ensues! Instead of killing herself like so many people would if they were revealed to the galaxy at-large to be Darth Vader’s rancid offspring, Leia tries her best to pick up the pieces and maintain some semblance of dignity. As we find by the end of the book, she’s only partway successful.

This is the first Star Wars book I read that predominately puts you in Leia’s head. Being that she’s a seasoned politician in her late 40s with an annoyingly naïve ideology, she’s portrayed with an incredible amount of unwavering integrity and doesn’t really fuck up too much like a real human being would. To Gray’s credit, she portrays the somewhat arrogant sorta-Empire-loving Ransolm Casterfo with the same amount of integrity and level-headedness. It sometimes becomes hard to see these two as the people under their suits unless they occasionally betray their old baggage; Ransolm’s family were slaves under Vader’s control, Leia and her whole Alderaan-blew-up thing. There are also these heartful scenes between Leia and Han that made me queasy, but maybe that’s because I’m not good at reading about two people giving each other the ol’ fuck-eyes.

WORTH A READ?

Yes. It’s a well-written story about political turmoil, truth, and betrayal. Bloodline supposedly takes place six years before the events of The Force Awakens, and even though I haven’t watched that and probably won’t anytime soon, you don’t need to have watched it for the context. Which is fantastic, because I’m not about to binge the sequel trilogy in order to understand any bullshit Star Wars books. What am I, some sort of basement dwelling nerdface?

Shut up.


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Batman and the Mad Monk, Issue #2 – “Dark Moon Rising (Part 2)”

* Part 2 of 6 of the Batman and the Mad Monk limited series *

Welcome to Loneliness & Cheeseburgers Presents: Batman and the Mad Monk, Issue #2 – “Dark Moon Rising (Part 2)”! In the previous installment, Catwoman gets in the way again. She’s not going to be pivotal to the story, but there will be annoying interludes where she’ll pop in to hiss and scratch. I’m bored talking about her already.

Bodies are showing up in the morgue with throats torn out and necks gnawed upon! Aliens?? Ozzy Osbourne?? Batman is on the case!

Batman and the Mad Monk, Issue #2 [November, 2006]
Written by: Matt Wagner
“Dark Moon Rising (Part 2)”

Batman and the Mad Monk, Issue #2

Some woman named Dala has drugged a young lady at a bar and has dragged her sleepy ass to members of the Brotherhood so that they can all summon other members of the Brotherhood so they can do scary occult Brotherhood things. This is where the real meat of the story will lie. And speaking of meat, my friends, I’m going to go get a dang sandwich.

“THE BROTHERHOOD HAS GATHERED FOR THE BLOOD COMMUNION.” Oh boy! Will there be a buffet?

Dala, I assume, presides over a group of red-hooded dorks. Behind her is the sacrifice chained to a table by her wrists and ankles. Dala says some purply prose stuff about “lusting for eternity” and “slaking thirsts on their prey”, which is just flowery way of saying “let’s eat this broad”.

The poor nameless woman is stripped half-naked with blood flowing out of her nose. She regains consciousness and starts realizing that she is some sort of ritual sacrifice! She reacts accordingly. I’ll leave that to your imagination. A couple of “omigods” are spouted.

So, yeah, she screams for help, but the room is full of motherfuckers who will do the opposite of help, in fact. “They always awaken as the ceremony begins,” explains the sultry red narration boxes. “The screaming only serves to heighten our fervor.”

A man lookin’ like the Red KKK enters the room now, and there is a hushed, awed silence! “His own silence overwhelms us, draws us into his fierce, throbbing need.” This is getting sexual. Put the kids to bed.

The Red KKK Man approaches the hapless, screaming woman and exposes her soft, tender, supple, beefy, creamy, buttery neck.

Batman and the Mad Monk, Issue #2

A chill circles the room. The stench of diarrhea fills the air.

So, like Zoidberg, this dude slurps at her neck with a 1,000-yard stare of, you know, ecstasy. “Mnnn– yessssss–” he moans like a slut. Then he invites his fellow brothers to come up to the altar to enjoy a tasty meal! “The fountain of life spills its heady elixir to you.”

Dala holds a goblet full of blood. See, it’s a communion. I know how communions work.

“Niccolai has promised that, some day, all of us will be the same as he,” Dala thinks. “Forever fearless, voracious and young.”

If you thought that was gross, let’s move onto something that’s even more disgusting! Bruce Wayne is in bed with his current squeeze Julie Madison. They really illustrated the chest hair on him. Oh yeah, and he still has those deep Catwoman claw marks. Julie is worried about her weird, antisocial, alcoholic father. Bruce is like “fuhgeddaboudit.”

Bruce takes this moment to make it about himself. You see, Julie lost her mother, so she’s very protective of her father. MUST BE NICE TO ONLY LOSE ONE PARENT.

“I just wish he could learn to forgive himself. Like I have,” says Julie.

“He may just need more time…” Bruce responds, making a face that suggests that he was tired of this conversation four hours ago.

Julie decides to ask Bruce about the scratches on his chest, and Bruce’s beady little eyes dart around the room nervously. That’s the end of that scene, but I assume Bruce smacked the bitch as a lesson.

Batman and the Mad Monk, Issue #2

He never came back from his trip to Willy Wonka’s chocolate factory!

We have a new narrator coming up, folks: Julie’s drunk dad! He aims to meet up with Salvatore “The Boss” Maroni, who I spent a lot of time annoyed by in The Long Halloween. Mr. Norman Madison and Sal have some unfinished, official business to take care of, see? And if Madison can’t talk in front of Maroni’s thugs, then Madison is going to start picking up his teeth with broken fingers, see?

There’s a mention of an incident at a country estate, which Sal doesn’t want to talk about and tells Madison that he’s off the hook on it. Fine. Moving on. Madison still owes Sal 3,000,000 smackeroonies. Sal could use the money. He needs to settle things with Carmine “The Roman” Falcone! Those two are always butting heads. It’s adorable!

Just as Madison claims that he’ll do anything to get Maroni his money back, the thugs grab his spindly arms. Maroni is through with the likes of you, see? Old news, see? Don’t show your face round these parts lest you want to start picking up your fingers with broken teeth, see?

Then Maroni tells Madison to let his “friend” know that he lived up to his end of the bargain. The “friend” being, of course, the ever ubiquitous Batman. Madison tries to dismiss his connection with Batman, but he’s already out da fuckin’ door. Curtains, see? That’s what’s next for you, you odious harpy.

Speaking of odious harpies, District Attorney Harvey “One Face for Now” Dent has entered his office to find Batman lurking in the corner waiting. Dent smiles, unphased. Another mention of the country estate, and another mention of “shut up about it”. I’ll let you decide who said what.

Why, that Carmine Falcone. If Harvey Dent didn’t know what was good for him he’s march right up to the Roman’s front door and give him such a big kiss on the cheek!

But Batman’s not here for kisses. He’s got other things on his mind.

Batman and the Mad Monk, Issue #2

Yeah, heroin goes missing all the time here in Gotham. They call it an “oopsy-daisy” and hope the children don’t snort too much of it.

So Batman wants to find this so-called “heroin” before either the Roman or the Boss do. Dent’s like “well, that’s great and all, but I can put these fucks in jail if you connect it to them, please.” Batman nods sagely. They shake hands on it, and Batman will fail and cry about his bulleted parents and retire to his Batcave for three months while he detoxes on water and gummy worms.

Now it’s Julie’s turn for a scene. She’s been waiting outside the Wayne Manor gates for an age, staking out the place to try to get a glimpse of Bruce’s nefarious proclivities. “Does he really expect me to believe he got those scratches from tripping over a garden rake? Like Bruce Wayne ever goes near a gardening tool.” Ha ha! That’s right, lady! As if!

She continues waiting. I continue being bored.

Ah, I almost forgot about everyone’s favorite cuddly mustache Jim Gordon! He’s inspecting the body of a dead woman. Her neck has been ravaged by either coyotes or a particularly angry paper shredder. “What the hell is wrong with this city?” he thinks, taking a drag on his cigarette. He tells the other deputies to leave the scene so that he can fuck the corpse, but Batman shows up to ruin the fun. “I guess this leaves no doubt. It is a serial killer at work,” Batman rasps. Jim Gordon agrees, and he’s plumb sick of it, I tell you whut.

They both stare at the body sadly. Stupid city with its killers and copycat killers and killer wannabes. This one is also fresh out of blood, and she has plenty of bruises on her wrists and ankles showing signs of a struggle. No DNA evidence of any kind. Cold case, it seems. Cold case, see?

“The repetitive nature of these crimes… it’s almost ritualistic.” Batman narrows his eyes seriously. He notices tire tracks in the alley. He sprays some schmutz on it and retrieves a perfect mold of the track. To the Batcave for analysis!

Elsewhere, Dala is whining to Niccolai about wanting a turn to harvest blood. Niccolai looks like Trent Reznor from behind, which is fitting I suppose.

Batman and the Mad Monk, Issue #2

As soon as you burn that 69 tattoo off of your wrist you husky slut.

Niccolai, of course, tells her “not yet” and Dala is getting impatient. She wants some of that healthy forever-livin’. Niccolai says only the worthy get such a gift. Gotta weed out the slackers, you know?

In the Batcave, Bruce looks through his microscope and determines that, yes, those are indeed tire tracks. Based on the treads, it’s a hearse! Man, he’s good, this guy. He also swiped some fluids from the scene, somehow. A mix of exotic perfume and animal sedative. The plot thickens like his dick in a gloryhole.

Alfred enters the room looking cantankerous. “Sir, I do hate to interrupt you from playing with your chemistry set… but I need to remind you of a Wayne Foundation meeting this coming afternoon.”

In short, it’s Bruce’s bedtime (6am) and he’s tuckered out. Off to the Batbed where he sleeps upside-down.

Julie returns home dejected that she was staking out Wayne Manor all night to come up short on, well, anything. She discovers her lush dad on the couch sleeping. “N-N-…Nub-ia? Feh?” he says before she slips off to bed herself. She’ll remember those harrowing words for decades to come…

Norman Madison is currently dreaming. He’s running from his predator. He’s getting endlessly pursued by… The Bat! That dang bat! “There is no respite. No safe haven.” He’s here for revenge! For vengeance! Justice! AND IT KNOWS HIS NAME! AHHHH!! RUN!

Batman and the Mad Monk, Issue #2

Oh, Norman, you silly goose.

We end at an abandoned warehouse where a few Brotherhood thugs break in at Dala’s direction. They’re getting kind of sick of the gig, honestly. No benefits, for one thing. And morale is low. This Niccolai guy? He smells like pickles or something. At least the blood is tasty, you know what I mean. It’s just… I don’t know, the work is unfulfilling.

Batman is waiting in the rafters to descend crotch-down on top of these street toughs.

Final Thoughts

Batman vs. The Vampires! Norman Madison vs. the Mob! Jim Gordon vs. the City of Gotham. Julie Madison vs. Who Cares!

So many threads! So many “intriguing” plotlines! Four issues to go! My pantaloons are tingling with excitement and… oh no, wait, I have to pee. See ya.


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Octavia, Chapter 2 – Bloodthirsty

Thousand Year Old Vampire is a lonely solo role-playing game in which you chronicle the unlife of a vampire over the many centuries of their existence, beginning with the loss of mortality and ending with their inevitable destruction.
Previous Journal Entries:
The Beginning

In your blood-hunger you destroy someone close to you. Kill a mortal Character. Create a mortal if none are available. Take the skill Bloodthirsty.

After my deadly (or undeadly, as the case may be) intimate encounter with Benizzone Petruccio, I awake early the next morning — before the sun rises — in my bed on my father’s farm where I still reside. My head pounds thunderously as if I indulged too heartily in drink the night before. And that may or may not be true! I can’t remember anything that happened to me after Benizzone kissed my neck. I feel violated, yet strangely flattered. He is handsome, after all.

The sun starts to come up and my headache grows so strong and powerful that it feels as if my brain is trying to force itself out of my skull! This is no ordinary morning headache following a possible evening of merriment and debauchery. The sun is barely peaking over the horizon of the fields and I can no longer tolerate it. Without anything to cover up my window, I tuck myself under my heavy blanket and pray for the pounding headache to dissipate.

“Wake up, harlot!” cries a voice from my door. Livius. Four years my elder and he treats me not as a sister, but as a beggar on the roughest, most unseemly streets of Tuscany’s servile quarters. “Another day of helping yourself to food and drink and partaking in excessive leisure while the rest of us break our backs in the fields, is it?” I can hear his footsteps close in on my bedding, and I’m starting to catch a whiff of something that replaces my pounding headache with the ache of hunger.

“I said wake up, you useless bitch!” He dares stand next to my bedding. Still under my thick blanket, I can’t seem to identify the cause for this sudden, insatiable hunger. Not even a “hunger”. “Hunger” doesn’t describe it adequately. This is more… it’s as if every fiber of my being craves…

“Are you deaf? Get your ass out of this bed this instant before I decide to make matters worse of my own accord!”

…blood. Blood! Of course! That sickly, sweet taste of blood. I know I’ve never tasted another’s blood — why would I? — but now it makes sense. Like another sense unlike true hunger, my body is overwhelmed with an urge to seek this blood.

Livius rips the blanket off my body, and I’m overcome with agony so insurmountably great that I thought I might die. It’s the sun. The sun is pain.

To Livius’ complete surprise, I find myself scampering to the broom closet in the next room. I feel ridiculous running off like this, and into the closet no less, but the darkness feels like home. Surely this will anger Livius further. I can only imagine trying to wake up my younger brother Quintilius in the same manner and the teenage boy, without warning, scurries into the broom closet. I could almost laugh if this “hunger” wasn’t overtaking all my thoughts and senses. It lessened for a few seconds, but now it’s even stronger than before.

“What do you think you’re doing, you whore? Is that what you do at night? Whore and fuck for your coin? I’m sure Father is proud of his only daughter, out whoring and putting a stain on the family name.” By now Livius is banging on the unlocked door, obviously goading me to come out to hit him. He has always dared me to hit him, but I’ve never done it no matter how badly I’ve wanted it. I was always too afraid of what he would do if I did. Two heads taller than me and with arms the girth of tree trunks. I would spend many sleepless early mornings pontificating over slipping a dagger between his ribs in the dead of night, but even the mere idea would hurt Father.

And I would never hurt Father. I believe this to be true.

I know what I want now, and a calmness starts washing over me. I know where my next meal will be. I open the door to find the angry, fiery face of my eldest brother. He, in turn, sees my own face. To this day I don’t know exactly how I must have looked to him just then.

“What the bloody hell happened to your eye?” he said, face sallow with sudden fear. With a surge of strength, I pull him toward me by his tunic and into the closet. What happens next is a blur of sensory overload turning to fevered, dim memories. Ripping and tearing sounds, certainly. The wet, red ruins of Livius’ neck. The ambrosiac taste of blood. Most of all, I remember the euphoria. This mysterious sensation that overtook me. At the time I compared it to the effects of the opium den (of which I was never a patron of, but I had an idea), but I know now that it surpassed even that. It dominated every synapse in my brain, completely overtaking logic or rational thought.

And I knew that I needed more.

Skills:
Assassinating
Smooth-Talking
Sneaking
Bloodthirsty

Resources:
Dagger
Slingshot
Locket

Mark:
A permanent blood-red discoloration of the iris of my right eye

Mortals:
Octavius Caesonius, my father; a farmer

Claudius Marcus, my mentor; an assassin

Livius Lucanus, my eldest brother; mean-spirited and ignorant

Immortal:
Bonizzone Petruccio, high-level secretary in King Charles V’s court; handsome and cunning

Memory #1
I am Octavia Maria, first daughter of Octavius Caesonius, a farmer; born on a small farm outside of Tuscany in 1503; I am a 21-year-old female assassin.

Memory #2
My father gifts me with a slingshot for my ninth name day; I immediately kill two moles running around the potato patch from fifty yards away.

Memory #3
Claudius gifts me with a special silver dagger with a ruby on the hilt after I complete my assassin training.

Memory #4
Livius steals my locket and throws it up on the barn rafters; I spend hours trying to climb up to the ceiling and throwing stones at the rafter to knock it down.

Memory #5
Bonizzone hires me to be his private assassin shortly before biting my neck and turning me; the iris of my right eye turns a permanent blood-red color.

My first kill, my eldest brother, Livius Lucanus; I drink his blood, the sensation is wonderful; I am a 21-year-old vampire.


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