The Amazing Spider-Man (Vol. 3), Issue #4

* Part 4 of 6 of the Parker Luck storyline *

Welcome to Loneliness & Cheeseburgers Presents: The Amazing Spider-Man (Vol. 3), Issue #4! In the previous installment, Spider-Man swings into a burning building to do nothing and save nobody. J. Jonah Jameson gets offered a job at Fact Channel. Black Cat and Electro join forces to squash Spider-Man into a pulpy mess. Elon Musk injects fentanyl into his balls. Donald Trump smells like armpits, ketchup, and a butt.

And now back to the action.

Amazing Spider-Man (Vol. 3), Issue #4 [September, 2014]
Written by: Dan Slott

Amazing Spider-Man (Vol. 3), Issue #4

Parker Industries has developed its first invention intended to subdue Electro: Anti-Electro Netting! They wire some poor sucker in an electric suit and turn on the juice. While 400,000 volts of electricity course through the guy, the netting is able to contain any of the discharge… and it holds! Yippee! Let’s turn it up to 900,000 volts and then slap his ass with a paddle.

Parker’s phone goes off and it’s the Avengers. “Yes!” he exclaims to Anna Maria Marconi, who arches that eyebrow the way she does. You know the way. It probably got Doc Ock off more than just a few times.

The Avengers are calling the whole crew, which is good for Peter Parker because Peter Parker is Spider-Man and Spider-Man is part of the whole crew! I guess Doc Ock didn’t ruin Spider-Man’s reputation hard enough.

Parker shimmies into his uniform and books it right then and there while Marconi is like “WHAT ABOUT YOUR COMPANY, DINGUS?”

Marconi returns to the lab where Sajani arches her own eyebrow and asks what the dealio is. She won’t accept any excuse anymore. Not even “it’s the end of the world”, which it seems to very much be apparently. Let’s check in on that.

Spidey reaches the scene where the action is already in progress. The Avengers and the X-Men are fighting some Eyeball Man. Spider-Man takes this opportunity to effusively tell everyone, in the middle of the fray, that he is indeed Spidey and not some octopus jerk. They don’t want to hear it right now. They never want to hear about it again.

The Amazing Spider-Man (Vol. 3), Issue #4

They do the kablooie, if memory serves.

So, from what I’m gathering here with my meager knowledge, this Eyeball Man has the eye of the Watcher, and the Watcher has seen everything, and he’s going to explode the eye like a bomb, and that means millions of secrets that the Watcher has Watched will now flood all the Avengers’ and X-Men’s minds! Apparently!

Spider-Man sees visions of the spider biting him. He also sees visions of the spider biting a girl. He also sees visions of the girl telling her parents that she can’t control her powers. He also sees visions of the man named Ezekiel who offers to help the girl and her family. He also sees visions of Ezekiel training the girl to contain her powers. He also sees visions of the girl getting locked into a bunker for the good of the universe or whatever.

It’s all over. Spidey asks the others if they all saw what he saw, but probably not. The Hulk saw himself taking a shit. Captain America likely saw his own dick getting twisted into a pretzel.

Panicked, Spidey fucks off to try to find the Bunker Girl. As he swings, he gets another flash of memory. Something about a woman named Madame Web with a prophecy as follows: “If you want, you can stop. The web will reweave itself and another Spider-Man will take your place.” Spidey suspects that this “Madame Web”, IF THAT IS HER REAL NAME, meant the Bunker Girl. What’s her name again. Sally something? Stella? Sarah? Katie? Jeff? Ah yes, Cindy! Cindy Moon! “She could’ve replaced me,” Spidey thinks. “Ages ago!”

He flings himself over to Ezekiel’s old building, which tells me that Spidey knows who Ezekiel is and where his old building is located. This is because Ezekiel was planning on sealing him in the bunker too! Can you imagine all the unprotected sex that would’ve gone on in that bunker? Years of raw-doggin’ it? What a missed opportunity!

Lies! Lies lies lies! Ezekiel knew from Day 1 who both of them were! This is decidedly a revelation! I’m confused and am probably missing something important.

The Amazing Spider-Man (Vol. 3), Issue #4

These censors are so sophisticated. They also sensed if your pants are full of poop (they are).

Ezekiel’s automated message welcomes Spider-Man back, and if he’s hearing this recording then that means he has “survived Morlun’s attack”. And Ezekiel hasn’t. So kudos to Morlun for fucking that one up royally. “There’s something you should know. You are not alone. There’s another like you. A spider. And there’s a reason I kept this from you, Peter.”

But, conveniently for plot suspense purposes, Spider-Man doesn’t get to hear this reason quite yet. This is because, for plot suspense purposes of his own doing, Spider-Man flings a pile of web goo at the screen, breaking it. “I’m done listening to you!” he yells petulantly.

Spider-Man jaunts on over to the bunker entrance and communicates to Cindy through the bunker intercom. She can’t believe what she’s hearing! A person! And it’s the Spider-Man! Hot dog! “Don’t ask me how, but I know the code,” Spider-Man says while he punches in the code he knows for some reason. She tries to stop him.

“Don’t! You can’t! Didn’t they tell you what would happen?!” Cindy grabs at her face as if meaning to claw her dang eyes out. “If you open that door… Morlun will come.”

Yeah he will. He’ll come all over your face! Spider-Man doesn’t find this to be a sufficient enough reason to stop punching in those sexy numbers. Before long, the hatch opens up with an airy “TSSSS”.

She gets pissed.

The Amazing Spider-Man (Vol. 3), Issue #4

Yeah, but look on the bright side. Heaven is just another bunker, if you think about it!

Somewhere far away, on some planet with two moons, a guy I suspect is Morlun kind of wakes up in a stupor and sniffs the air. Ah yes, that’s the scent of Some Girl Unlocked From a Bunker. Excellent, excellent. “It’s time. The great hunt begins,” he tells himself. “From this moment on… let all hell break loose!”

Very dramatic, sir. You look like a wedgie would do you in nicely.

Returning to the bunker, Cindy quickly kicks Spidey’s ass. He can barely defend himself because she’s so quick and Spider-like. He can’t get a word in edgewise! He’s trying to tell her something important about Morlun, but she doesn’t want to fucking hear it. She has all these MRE packages ready to eat and you had to come and spoil it!

“Why should I listen to anything you have to say?” she asks, flinging Spidey across the room.

“He’s gone. Forever.”

He’s dead. Buried. Done. History. Worm food. The Great Bunker in the Sky. She likes the sound of that! She’s good to go, then? Hot dog! Time to blow this popsicle stand and see New York! How are those Twin Towers doing??

Knowing that she can’t just leave in her tank top and extremely, extremely short shorts, she whips up a makeshift suit with her Silky powers. Stunning! It reminds me of Spidey’s web underpants, but more… fashionable?

Call her Silk while she’s all dressed up, k?

Silk, as it were, she’s so excited to be out in the world that she swings waaaay ahead of Spider-Man. She’s good at it, too. Better than him. He’s all like “HUFF PUFF SLOW DOWN!” He has let her loose and now she’s a danger to herself. She has no idea how much the world has changed. We’re talking iPhones and black presidents. Toy Story 3. Crazy nutso stuff.

But who cares about that right now? Silk will be fine. At Parker Industries, however, Black Cat is sneaking along the side of the building all cat-like and feral. The scientists are now trying Electric-Suppressing Gel, which smells like formaldehyde and burns skin like the dickens.

Black Cat takes photos of the lab with her sneaky spy camera. That’s all well and good, stealing photos of their plans, but what she needs is some tech nerd who can tell her how it all works…

So she kidnaps Sajani. I’m due for another screenshot. Here’s one:

The Amazing Spider-Man (Vol. 3), Issue #4

I think Ryan Dunn shoved that camera up his ass once.

While Spidey swings around town, he notices that his Spider-Sense (aka boner) is drawing him toward Silk. “It’s not supposed to work that way,” Spidey thinks. “It’s always steered me away from danger…”

Spidey follows Silk to the window of an apartment containing a black family. “It’s my home,” she says. “But… that’s not my family.”

She starts tearing up. Where are they? Did they move somewhere? Where can she find them now? Are they even still alive? “And all this because if a spider bite.”

Well shucks, lady. Spider-Man will help you out! And–

Wait, shut up for a second! Silk wants to know exactly how long Morlun’s been dead. How long ago could she have left the bunker? Spider-Man says the timeline is tricky because he’s actually died twice so far. Silk gets mad again and slaps the shit out of Spider-Man. “It means he can come back! He could be out there somewhere right now!”

The Amazing Spider-Man (Vol. 3), Issue #4

Me? How about you? Can’t you feel it? When it hurt? When you fell down from heaven?

They both can feel something all right. Silk is super horny so she pulls up Spidey’s mask and they both start sucking each other’s faces.

TO BE CONTINUED!

Final Thoughts

Yeesh. Spend 10 years alone in a bunker and the only thing you can think about is getting your rocks off? In this Christian world? For shame.


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Clare O’Kane

Clare O'Kane

Clare O’Kane’s Official Website

JUMP TO:
(2018) Let It Be
(2024) Everything I Know How to Do

Let It Be (2018)
Rating: Good

Clare O'Kane - Let It Be

“She’s not going to be like Chappelle. She’s not coming out here to be transphobic. She’s not going to keep banging the mic against her leg.”

This is one of the many ways Megan Koester introduces Clare O’Kane, and now I want to listen to Megan Koester because she sounds hilarious! But we ain’t talking about Megan Koester here. We’re talking about Clare O’Kane, a queer half-Asian young lady who talks about being queer, half-Asian, and a young lady! She promises that the end of straight, white, male comedy is near AS IT SHOULD BE. I’M LOOKING AT YOU BRIAN POSEHN.

Since I recently listened to Cara Connors, another queer young lady, I’ll compare O’Kane to Connors now and say this: while Connors’ comedy was painfully bitter and depressing, O’Kane’s comedy is more light-hearted. While Connors talked about having seven bridesmaids at her sham wedding with mirthless laughter, O’Kane talks about how her ex-boyfriend won $1,000,000 at a Big Bang Theory slot machine with mild incredulity (and then the subsequent tooth falling out of her head for no reason, but trust her, she’s fine, seriously). And while Connors seems to be using her standup set as a tense therapy session, O’Kane uses it as a vehicle for what she calls her “sexual renaissance”.

As far as being a woman goes, she finds it less of a difficult thing and more of an “oh well, ugh, I guess this is how it’s going to be” kind of thing. After describing being catcalled at 13 by a guy who told her “damn, you’re gonna be fine as fuck when you get older”, she jokes that she got fine as fuck at 14 and starts doing a sing-song about sucking that teenage pussy and her tiny little titties that cracked me up harder than I have in a while. Sounds crass on paper, whoops! She also makes this fantastic comparison: “Women’s bodies are built better [than men’s bodies], like the Great Barrier Reef, or, like, a rainforest, or something else destroyed by a man.” Jokes about HPV and Planned Parenthood are also in the mix, but I won’t bore you with my writings about them! Clare O’Kane is a storyteller and I recommend letting her tell the stories!

O’Kane spends lot of time covering other avenues as well, mining comedy out of her grandmother’s ambulance calendar (where every ambulance looks like it was photographed in the same parking lot) or watching an ant carry a fingernail while she was high. She tells everyone to have a Happy Honda Days, she mixes up Nostradamus with Nosferatu, and she has a bit about football players beating their little wives. The icing on the cake, of course, is a five-minute chunk on accidentally walking in on her father jacking off! She waited until he was dead to tell it on stage, which was less than a week ago! So thank God she can tell the story now!

Good stuff all around! I hesitate to call it Very Good, but perhaps I’ll change my mind after a few more listens. O’Kane is pretty damn funny, you guys.

Everything I Know How to Do (2024)
Rating: Good

Clare O'Kane - Everything I Know How to Do

At one point in her second special, Clare O’Kane makes it clear that she doesn’t do observation comedy. She’s here to talk about her vagina and all the problems with it.

She doesn’t talk about her vagina the whole time, but I think this describes the essence of her stand-up style perfectly. At least she knows what her limitations are. Observational comedy feels like a performance. Personal comedy feels like a conversation. And O’Kane is pretty good at making her personal comedy sound naturally conversational, especially when she addresses the audience with topics like “Do you want to hear the ‘Yo Mama’ joke I made up about my dead parents?” (“Yo Mama so ugly, my parents are now dead”) or “I’m going to start singing this private message I got from a guy who was criticizing my full-frontal bush”. It makes for an immersive experience, which gives her bonus points. Good job, O’Kane!

This also means that she’s a good storyteller, explaining why she quit SNL because they made her work Saturdays (and also they wouldn’t let her write “She-Hulk’s pussy” in a sketch) and the aforementioned full-frontal bush, which she flashed for an Amazon Prime pilot that wasn’t picked up. She doesn’t forget to pepper the stories with funny bits, like when she talks about dating apps and how there are “full of guys with hats with clocks on them and neurodivergent dog dads”, or she describes a medium who told her the smell of baby powder means her dead mother is there in the room because she used to powder her pubes in the bathroom in front of her daughter. O’Kane has a childlike voice that mixes will with the bawdy subject matter, too, so when she’s talking about her horndog dad or how she pulled a muscle in her back while getting eaten out, I have to remind myself that this is a full grown adult person and not some teenager describing her sexual escapades with excruciating detail. Because that would be weird.

There are some misses. A non-sequitur about her dying grandmother dazedly asking her family to “please close the coffin” doesn’t land with me, and especially neither do the skits at the end of the CD with the actual played-out She-Hulk gynecology conversation or the bizarre trip-hop Filipino adobo chicken recipe. Those are tack-ons to the actual set, so I don’t factor that into the stand-up portion of the disc.

But I can excuse the problems by pointing out genius lines like “my husband’s girlfriend is nice for a whore” and “me wearing earrings is like a gym teacher trying to look nice at a school dance” or comparing pansexuality to rap rock and “those skateboards with the one big wheel”. It’s the little turns of phrase like these that make O’Kane a joy to listen to. I’m very much looking forward to what I hope is a long career.


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

* Part 3 of 6 of the Parker Luck storyline *

Welcome to Loneliness & Cheeseburgers Presents: The Amazing Spider-Man (Vol. 3), Issue #3! In the previous installment, Peter Parker gets used to his now-girlfriend Anna Maria Marconi, the Avengers run tests and diagnostics on him to make sure he is indeed the real deal, Electro’s powers are going haywire and killing Tribeca hipsters, and Doc Ock’s influence has really done a lot of damage.

Peter Parker, CEO of some company that he has no idea how to run, decides to hold off on cybernetics research in favor of figuring out how to turn off Electro’s power.

Oh yeah, there’s a woman in a bunker, but they’re only kind of hinting at that right now.

Look out, Spidey. Black Cat’s gonna cross your path.

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

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

We begin in the windowless room that I’m not supposed to know about yet. The young woman within the “windowless room” walks on the ceiling, bored out of her mind. “Same walls, same ceiling, same books. Same everything.” She has pictures on her wall of the family she hasn’t seen in years…

Suddenly a robotic voice shrieks “WARNING. ZONE 2 BREACHED. WARNING. DO NOT LEAVE ZONE 1.” Well, I guess it doesn’t shriek because I put periods instead of exclamation marks, but you know how it is.

Good thing this young woman has all the time in the world to try all the six-digit combinations to turn off the alarm! A man on a little video on the keypad chimes in. He tells this woman, Cindy, he tells her, if she’s hearing the message, he can’t stop her, but he tells her that she shouldn’t leave the bunker. “Not just for your sake… but for the rest of us.”

Whatever, douche nozzle. She continues punching some numbers in… but then thinks better of it. “Damn you, Ezekiel…”

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

Bunker life is the pits, man. No Starbucks anywhere.

WELL THAT WAS FUN. I WONDER WHAT WILL HAPPEN THERE! Cut to the Upper East Side where Black Cat is attempting to disarm her own six-digit keypad. She does it on the first try. ‘cAuSe ShE’s LuCkY…

It’s her old penthouse. It’s where she used to have everything until Spider-Man took it all away from her. Blah blah blah, cry me a river you cunt from heck.

A couple of nerds peak around the corner. “Edgar! It’s a burglar!” Edgar. One of them is named Edgar. Black Cat’s going to rob these nerds blind.

Later, as she sips some champagne, she realizes that she doesn’t actually have nothing. Everything that’s within her grasp is hers, technically. Like a second-rate Catwoman (or first-rate, honestly). And she vows to “make Spider-Man squirm” before she kills him and guts him and eats him for dinner. Yowza.

In Alphabet City, wherever that is, in an abandoned building where the lowlifes chill for the night, Electro pulls his pud under a blanket of newspapers. He fizzles and pops while have nightmares about Spider-Man fucking with his life. He’s so agitated that he accidentally sets the building on fire with his electrical energy! You hate to love to see it!

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

Looking good there, Magnum P.I.

In Parker Industries, Peter Parker tries to get on everyone’s good side by being the FUN BOSS! He looks like a tool and nobody’s up for any of it. “Is he bipolar?” asks one scientist.

There’s good news for Mr. Boss: the lab has created a tracking device that can pick up Electro’s electric signature. Fan-diddly-tastic! Time to go bag us a sparking bitch.

Sajani is less than thrilled. Trading in one obsession (Spider-Man) for another (the guy who’s not Spider-Man). Parker defends himself by saying “WHUH WHUT I’M JUST TRYIN TA HELP DA CITY!”

“I do not get him,” Sajani gripes after Parker leaves. “We spend all our time developing nano-tech, and he wants to flush it on a whim?” The cross-eyed Anna Maria Marconi tries to defend him, calling him “easily-distracted” but conveniently avoiding the real fact that he’s no longer Doctor Octopus.

Marconi will keep her nanite research going. She promises to talk to Parker about all this later IN BED during THE SEX. But, as Marconi finds out quickly, researching nanites is tough work all by oneself. Too bad Doctor Squelchy Octopus didn’t trust anyone with his notes and findings and jars of brains.

A nearby robot perks up and asks Marconi if she needs assistance. “Well, that’s convenient,” she thinks. And we’re off!

Back in Alphabet City where the building done burned down, the firefighters assess the situation rather boringly, I must say. The Parkermobile drives on up, having had picked up Electro’s scent. He orders his crew to get readings at a safe distance while he goes and gets snacks! And by that I mean “puts on his Spidey jammies”.

The local news crews filming the scene have now picked up Spider-Man swinging around aimlessly. Black Cat watches this on her TV all “muahahaha.

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

J. Jonah frothing and spitting again.

J. Jonah Jameson gets interviewed at the Fact Channel studios (where “Fake News” is just another fad!) He goes pretty nuts right away, hootin’ and hollerin’ about getting shamed out of being mayor anymore. “I faced crises that would’ve had you pinheads curled up in the fetal position, sobbing for mommy,” he gripes. “I regret nothing. I apologize for nothing.”

And, of course, just like everyone else, he blames the Heroic Spider-Man.

The newswoman is like “I’m not actually interviewing you, dingus. Do you want a job here?” Jameson immediately grins like a psychopath.

In Alphabet City (where the fire is on fire!), Spider-Man flies into the burning building to do… something? He meets a man named Ollie, who is presumably Mary Jane Watson’s new boyfriend. Together they rescue a kid who just happens to be sleeping in the homeless hovel. They bond over this moment that lasts thirty seconds. But then Ollie steps on a weak floorboard and drops halfway through the floor.

“Looks like your pal ran into some bad luck,” says Black Cat, who shows up in the impossibly-still-on-fire building. Spidey thinks she’s here to help, but she’s got other things in mind… (like hot dogs, maybe? idk)

Black Cat slashes at Spider-Man, who wonders loudly what the hell her problem is. “You have the nerve to ask me for help? After what you did to me?”

At this point Spider-Man tries to do the whole Doc Ock explanation, but it doesn’t come through. “I DON’T CARE!” Black Cat yells in giant red block letters. So Spider-Man goes all in and pretends to actually still be Doc Ock. “I’m still Otto Octavius! And now… the die is cast!” he says like a complete fucking dork.

Black Cats gets spooked and decides to leave. “Okay. I’ve pushed my luck enough tonight,” she says anticlimactically. Spidey can’t believe she fell for it. Whew! “Did I really talk like that for months and no one noticed?” Now back to the fire that’s killing everyone… like Ollie, who is worse for wear.

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

Yeah, I’m just dying here while you slap-fight with cat ladies. Don’t mind me.

Spidey saves Ollie and all the firefighters outside rejoice! Mary Jane is there too! They embrace each other in front of limp-dicked Spider-Man, but then he disappears into the night…

Meanwhile, Parker’s team has somehow lost the 200-pound Electro Sensor…

It’s because Black Cat stole it…

And she’s still going to make Spider-Man pay whether he’s an oozy octopus or not…

So she asks Electro, who is cowering on a rooftop, for help…

And together they’re going to get rid of…

The one who wronged both of them…

That’s right. Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds.

Final Thoughts

Who gives a shit about spindly little Spider-Man anyway. Let him live his sorry life of Stouffer’s dinners and tiny dwarf girlfriends. I’ll be in the can.


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Jane’s Journey, Chapter 2 – Swearing an Iron Vow

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In Ironsworn, you are a hero sworn to undertake perilous quests in the dark fantasy setting of the Ironlands. You will explore untracked wilds, fight desperate battles, forge bonds with isolated communities, and reveal the secrets of this harsh land. Most importantly, you will swear iron vows and see them fulfilled—no matter the cost.

The Great Plague of the Old World still haunts what few members are left of my grandparents’ generation. Approximately 35 million people perished, with less than 500,000 successfully emigrating to the Ironlands without affliction. All 500,000 represented different houses, settlements, factions, and circles of the Old World and, as such, the population distributed somewhat evenly among the land. Some, for example, cannot withstand the harsh climate of the northern regions, while others seek solace in the icy bite of winter’s cruel winds.

Recently, an affliction has creeped into Wolfspire. It started minor. It started slow. Inflammations that our healer, Hirsham, could easily mitigate with herbal poultices. No one in our circle feared a new plague at first. Some of the elders took extra precautions; still traumatized by the Great Plague. But since Hirsham had everything under control, we carried on our days with nary a negative thought. Soon, the symptoms became noticeable and severe. Unchecked inflammation turned to fever; fever turned to coma; coma turned to certain death. All within three or four days. Thankfully, the disease is incredibly rare. Usually, inflammation turning to fever required extra attention that was nothing Hirsham couldn’t reverse within a week or two, but this affliction is more complicated than anything he had experienced before. A fever turning to coma? Unheard of in the Tempest Hills where the summer air is chilly enough to stave off even the strongest of fevers. But this? It was truly concerning.

I don’t pretend to be any sort of clairvoyant — I scoff at the notion — but ever since the Sickness started to spread through my village my nights have been cursed with intrusive dreams. One intrusive dream, in fact — a recurring one. I am in a pristine chapel with walls carved out of the finest white stone, rows of seats crafted with the finest mahogany, an altar elaborately decorated with sparkling jewels and adorned with roses and candles. Chapels like these do not exist in the Tempest Hills as far as I have experienced. I’ve told Father about the chapel in my dreams and I was met with a snort as a response. “Sounds like the kind of hedonistic decadence they enjoy in the Havens,” he said derisively. “I expect no less from a land full of lazy vagabonds and plump nobles. Send any of them anywhere even slightly north of Hinterlands and watch them wither away to nothing just at the possibility of a day’s hard work.”

Did the chapel in my dreams exist somewhere on the Ironlands, perhaps in the Havens as my father suggests? Surely not one just like it, I would hope. Next in my dream, a High Priest stands at the altar. His grizzled beard extends to his chest, his streaked gray hair tied back in a loose braid, his dark gray hat and matching robes smoky in contrast to the brilliance of the white room. Before he speaks, his eyes burn a blazing red. Standing perfectly still, his mouth unhinges in a terrifying gape as several demonic tongues at once echo into the large, open expanse of the nave. The priest then arches his body forward, lifts his head up to the Heavens, and shrieks a noiseless cry. White mist from his mouth floats to the ceiling as his eyes continue to burn, back impossibly arched back, creating a gnarled shadow on the wall behind him. The earth starts rumbling as the demonic tongues continue to groan, moan, and whisper around the nave. Behind the priest an iron pillar rises out of the floor as if pushed upwards by a tremendous force. In the back of the nave to the right, and in the back of the nave to the left, similar pillars rise out of the floor. Girth like a tree at the base, tapered at the top, all three pillars rise and do not stop at the ceiling. They continue to push upward, upward, eternally upward. They grow more radiant by the second, until suddenly all three stop. The rumbling of the earth stops, the echoes stop, the mist stops swirling to the ceiling.

Suddenly, with a deafening bang, beams of light connect the middles of the three pillars in a glorious, holy triangle. For a moment everything seems to have been solved, to have been clicked into place. Then the walls begin melting. The air gets hazy and hot. And red. Fire ignites the seats and altar; the High Priest is like a statue as he himself is engulfed in flames. The beams of light shine brighter and brighter as everything around them appears to be sinking into a pit of Hell. The last thing I see before I bolt up in a cold sweat is a horrible, laughing red face. As if the Devil himself. It feels so real every single time. And it never deviates. The dream is exactly the same every single time.

Main Quest
Synchronize the Three Blighted Pillars of the Ages

I wake up one morning sweating and exhausted. Weeks and weeks of the burning, melting altar have left me rattled and sleep-deprived. I swear that if I ever leave Wolfspire and find myself in the Havens I’ll be seeking out this mysterious chapel. If it’s even there in the first place. There must be a reason for my recurring nightmare and I’ll be damned if I’m going to let it drive me absolutely stark raving mad.

Completely malcontented with my current predicament, I decide that morning to cross the village to visit Hirsham for a remedy. Any remedy will do, I care not what it contains or how it may feel on my skin or taste on my tongue. A dreamless sleep for even one night would be bliss. When I arrive at Hirsham’s quarters in the castle, I am met with a disposition of fear and panic. “Hello Lady Jane, what a pleasant surprise. Are you unwell?”

The look on Hirsham’s face was unsettling to me. It didn’t seem appropriate at the moment to complain about bad dreams. “What’s wrong, Hirsham? Can I help you with something?”

“Oh, Lady Jane! Unless you are in dire need of healing, I’m afraid I can’t assist you this morning. Five more townsfolk have fallen ill to the Sickness!” Hirsham motioned to the adjacent room where the beds were full. “I cannot watch more of our friends and family fall deep into comas from which they can never return! I just can’t!”

It was unlike the usually level-headed Hirsham to be so frantic. I wanted nothing more than to soothe his anxiety. “Hirsham, I swear it. I will do anything to help!”

“Lady Jane, there is nothing I can ask of you that will be appropriate of a young woman of your station. My aides are far too busy with the ill to help me with what I will admit is a very poor chance to reverse the Sickness, but I do not know who to turn to with everyone so busy with preparing for the upcoming winter. Based on my recent research in my medical journals, I have discovered a potion called the Draught of Healing Miasma that is purported to clear a fever and pull the stricken out of a coma. My hopes are that this will stave off death and bring the ill to an eventual recovery. I don’t know if it will work for the Sickness, but I’m left with no other recourse.”

Daught of Healing Miasma? That name makes no sense. Miasma is illness in of itself. I wasn’t going to argue with Hirsham or his medical journals, but this sounded like a fantasy to me. “Again, do not make me stomp my feet! What can I do to help you? If it means leaving the village I will do it! The circle means the world to me, and I too will not witness another one of our people succumb to an early, needless death!”

Hirsham looked astonished, but he also betrayed an expression of insight. “Yes. Yes, of course you can help, Lady Jane. Of course. Are you aware of the nearby settlement of Winterwood to the northeast? This is where I spent seven years studying the arts and sciences of healing. If there is any place in the Ironlands where one could find a Draught of Healing Miasma, it would be Winterwood. Are you absolutely sure this is a mission you would like to embark upon?”

I looked Hirsham right in the eye. “I swear an iron vow, Hirsham. I will help you find this draught.”

Quest #1
Retrieve the Draught of Healing Miasma

Hirsham’s face lit up. “Oh, gods. Lady Jane, this is truly an altruistic act! Thank you! Again, this is entirely conjecture, but it is better than doing nothing. I will need to stay and tend to the ill, and I do not wish to pester you, but haste is key! Northeast, my girl! Thank you! Oh gods, thank you!”

I stand there smiling wanly. Northeast, sure? But where exactly? Am I to acquire a map? Do I need supplies, a companion, a weapon? I never have left the village, how am I to brave a journey such as this when the road could be replete with beasts, bandits, rapers, or other dangerous obstacles? I decide to ask the people I trust and wanderers what I can expect.

One of my older brothers scares me. On purpose, no doubt. He speaks of terrifyingly large wolves and man-eating wildebeests. My usual snarkiness eludes me as he grabs a bow and quiver from a closet in his quarters. He shoves them at my chest. “Here, enjoy yourself.”

A particularly insightful wanderer warns me of packs of wolves on the road to Winterwood and warns me to sharpen my bow skills. I do not have time, and I pray to the old gods that I can get by on my years of archery training (that I never became very proficient at).

I understand that my journey will no doubt be dangerous. Quiver and bow at my back, I set off alone.

Click here for all the boring game-related notes! On second thought, don’t bother!

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Detective Comics (Vol. 1), Issue #578 – “Chapter Four: …So Shall Ye Reap…”

* Part 4 of 4 of the Batman: Year Two storyline *

Welcome to Loneliness & Cheeseburgers Presents: Detective Comics (Vol. 1), Issue #578 – “Chapter Four: …So Shall Ye Reap…l”! In the previous installment, Batman joins forces with Joe Chill, the man who killed his parents, in order to stop The Reaper, a man who is barely doing anything and just minding his own business killing cops and being an all around good Samaritan. Leave the guy alone.

Batman struggles internally with his decision to work with the murder guy, but I barely care about that. Honestly, if it bothers Batman so much then he should just “accidentally” push him off a fucking bridge. Oops! And he still keeps his moral compass pointed north. Then we’re all happy.

Detective Comics (Vol. 1), Issue #578 [September, 1987]
Written by: Mike W. Barr
“Chapter Four: …So Shall Ye Reap…”

Detective Comics (Vol. 1), Issue #578

Joey Chill has disappointed his boss yet again! Not only has The Reaper escaped unharmed, very much the opposite of the intention, but they lost a shipment of drugs too!

Chill seems to be panicking internally. His best diversion tactic is something along the lines of “but now I know how The Reaper and The Batman operate, so I can be two steps ahead of them!” So Chill’s boss, Mr. Morritz, finds this suitable enough without needing to stab his throat 47 times. And then a couple stabs in the eyeballs for good measure.

So kill both The Reaper and The Batman and we won’t fit your ass with a pair of cement jeans. You have until Friday, which is also Pizza Hut night. Don’t forget.

Meanwhile, The Reaper accosts a garishly-dressed George R. R. Martin guy in the alley and plucks the glasses right off his fat face. Fucking police informers. What good are they? So here’s a deal, random sir on the street: “You will tell the police that a council of organized crime will meet Friday at the Brayshaw warehouse. You will not tell them the information came from me.”

The Reaper cracks the dude’s glasses and goes on his merry way. George R. R. Martin starts crying in the alley, basically. He’s got an armful of books, too. He’s just like Burgess Meredith in The Twilight Zone! That’s a good reference for the kids.

Elsewhere, Bruce Wayne gets ready for another dinner date with nun-turned-whore Rachel Caspian. Dr. Leslie has resigned to the fact that Bruce’s charms are transcendent enough to melt the panties off a bride of Christ, but we can leave all that to our imaginations. Alfred is caught unawares that Bruce is going out since he made TV dinners for two. He still has an awful Hitler mustache. Alfred still fucks, though.

Bruce takes Rachel out to a Chinese restaurant where an awful racist caricature of a man offers them fortune cookies. Rachel cracks one open and finds a very expensive diamond ring! All like “will you marry me” and all like “ok”.

Detective Comics (Vol. 1), Issue #578

Delicious!

Now that such an unpleasant display of human affection is behind us forever, we can turn to Gritty Jim Gordon and his craggy, shitty face. He and a lieutenant are staking out an alley waiting for the go-ahead to bust open the warehouse and apprehend some motherfuckers. And, of course, the motherfuckers hear the rumpus and start panicking. Then other cops show up as backup. Then a few get scythed by the lurking Reaperman, who enters the warehouse and scythes Mr. Morritz! He’s all bloody and gross now. It’s a sight to behold, unless you’re squeamish about that kind of thing.

Gordon’s like “I KNEW THE REAPER WAS INVOLVED” and he yells this at no one in particular.

Then Batman shows up and it’s chaos all over again. Our hero decides to bash a couple of cops’ heads together, then proceeds to run over a couple more with a stolen police van. ACAB indeed, sir.

Then Batman tries to plow into The Reaper, but I don’t think he hits him as there are plentiful panels of poorly-drawn explosions and other bullshit to wade through here. Lots of WHUNKTs and WAH-WHOOMs as sound effects. There’s even a CROOOM!

By now the warehouse has been set on fire ten times over, and Gordon’s team has to yell at him to run away because he’s still frantically looking for his targets. Luckily, later, they corner one of the Mob Boss-type guys to get more information on Mr. Batman. And he was only working with the mob until he got the Reaper, who may or may not be dead now I guess. Hard to say.

Detective Comics (Vol. 1), Issue #578

You’ve gone on, like, two dates. Try boning a little bit more.

At any rate, Gordon now trusts him enough to send up the Batsignal. He wants to have a cordial chat with the cowled man. Meanwhile, Bruce shows up at Rachel’s door to whine and moan a little bit about not being the man that she thinks he is. He has to do something that he may regret and that Rachel may find shameful, but he promises he’ll hide the magazines and video tapes when he’s done.

Ignoring the Batsignal for now, because Commissioner Gordon doesn’t have, like, a family or anything to go home to, Batman traipses his way over to Joe Chill’s decrepit living quarters and sticks a gun right against the sleeping man’s temple. Then Chill stirs and wakes up. “You were knocked unconscious by the explosion,” Batman explains. “I brought you here – a hideout of mine.”

Batman has many hideouts! As many as he has orifices, and those can also be considered hideouts! Mr. Morritz is dead. The Reaper is dead. It’s just you and me now, buttercup. There’s talks to be had.

“Don’t tell me you’re gonna give me a hard time. They wanted me to ice you, yeah, but there’s no point now,” explains Chill as he whips out his own gun. “What say we shake hands and call it quits?”

No, we’re not calling it quits, Broseph. Batman leads him to the dingy, dark, graffiti-laden alleyway. “Don’t you recognize it?” Batman asks as Chill wonders what the fuck is going on. “You’ve been here, Chill. It was twenty years ago…” Batman frowns and looks constipated.

“You tried to take a necklace from a woman. Her husband tried to stop you… and you killed them.” And when asked how Bats knows this, Batman rips off his face revealing his other face. “…Because I’m their son!”

Titillating! My nips are hard just reading through this suspense!

Detective Comics (Vol. 1), Issue #578

Does “bukkake-style” mean anything to you?

Batman goes nuts and punching and pistol whipping this stupid butthole. Chill dares him to follow through. Shoot him now, pussy. He doesn’t think Batman has the guts.

Batman presses the barrel right up against Chill’s forehead. Then his head gets blown to festival of blood, guts, gore, piss, and cum.

…but it ain’t Batman who pulled the trigger. The Fucking Reaper stands there with a smoking gun. Holy Jesus, sir, he now knows Batman’s unmasked visage. The handsome, chiseled face! “Now your secret is mine!” The Reaper jubilates. He invites Batman to finish this fight at the foundation Bruce is building in memory of his father, opposite the hot dog cart.

The fighting happens and it’s very glorious and *checks watch* exciting. It’s kind of funny seeing Batman just go apeshit with a gun, though. He keeps trying to pop The Reaper with no success since he keeps dodging the bullets like he’s fucking Neo. Batman backs The Reaper to edge of a steel beam, where he tumbles and loses his skull face head thing, revealing his very Caspian-like secret identity.

Caspian goes “ha ha it was me all along!” before deciding to voluntarily plummet off the building to his death. All like “Batman, you have proven yourself to be a worthy successor of mine in Gotham’s vigilante business!” *splat*

About fourteen seconds later the press swarms outside Rachel’s house. This is probably how she learns her father is dead, the vultures are shrieking stuff like “YOUR DAD IS DEAD LMAO”. Bruce shoves his way past the crowd and into the house. He uses this is a great opportunity to bring up one of those “let’s leave together forever” ideas that don’t ever work out, but she isn’t having it.

Detective Comics (Vol. 1), Issue #578

Child sex trafficking isn’t that much of a crime, dear. Matt Gaetz gets away with it all the time!

Apparently, it’s Nun Time for Rachel again since her father was a such a poopypants Crime Man. Bruce walks away dejected and toward the other 35,000 women who want to fuck him.

EPILOGUE! Bruce shows Dr. Leslie Thompkins her first floor office. Just the way she wanted it!

Batman later swings around in the sky, eagerly anticipating his next great adventure!

Final Thoughts

This was just OK. It’s nice to see some actual blood in a DC comic; some real late ‘80s grit. Nowadays Batman uses a water-squirting boutonniere to catch the bad guy. How times have changed.


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