Silk (Vol. 1), Issue #7

* Part 7 of 7 of the Life and Times of Cindy Moon storyline *

Welcome to Loneliness & Cheeseburgers Presents: Silk (Vol. 1), Issue #7! In the previous installment, Mr. Repairman gets killed by Black Cat before he is able to cough up the goods about Cindy’s family, which pisses her the heck off! After a tense battle where Silk, honestly, had the upper hand, Black Cat galivants away all like “you haven’t seen the last of meeeeeee.”

Cindy decides to call the psychiatrist’s number that Reed Richards provided, unbeknownst to her that a fucking planet is about to hit Manhattan.

That shit is probably going to hurt. Another ten years in the bunker for Cindy! Maybe staying away from the apocalypse is a good idea.

Silk (Vol. 1), Issue #7 [November, 2015]
Written by: Robbie Thompson

Silk (Vol. 1), Issue #7

It’s 9:15am. Then it’s 9:30. Then it’s 9:51. Cindy sits across from a psychiatrist, and both are silent in this shitty, unproductive session.

“Well, thank you,” Cindy says as she walks out of the office. The psychiatrist would like to see her again next week! Good stuff, not at all a ripoff.

Cindy recaps the events of the weird planet crashing toward Manhattan and how the rest of the world is not taking it very well. Riots everywhere. People in her own Daily Bugle office are running around like chimps throwing papers (and their feces) around. “I’m supposed to be doing something about this,” she thinks hopelessly. “Whatever this is. But I have no idea where to begin.”

J. Jonah Jameson calls Cindy into his office, ready to tear into her with his gnarly gnashing gteeth!

“I’ve covered the end of the world a handful of times,” he says after the door is closed. “But this one… well… it looks like a keeper. I talked to my friends in the police department. There are no records of your family anywhere.”

Well shucks, Mr. J! Don’t that beat all?!

Jameson does have some good news, though! A drugged-up man named James Park was arrested after a car accident! He was involved with a gang called the Goblin Nation! Does that help?

No? How about this, then: When James was asked his name, the first thing he said was “Albert Moon”! Cindy’s kid brother!

What? Drugs? Gangs? Crashed cars? He’s in a halfway house across town? But sir, with all due respect, you’re a fucking idiot!

Silk (Vol. 1), Issue #7

Albert always had an affinity for huffing glue and getting corrupted by Grand Theft Auto games!

Cindy goes to the roof with the intention of Silking up, but two of her lesbian coworkers are there to watch the apocalypse. They all hug in a tender “we’ll never see each other again because of death reasons” embrace. Then Silk is on the prowl!

She had tried to call Peter Parker with no luck. The kid is probably masturbating over some toast. She bids him good luck as she swings across town looking for… something. It doesn’t matter right now, because people keep needing help left and right. All like “HELP ME!” and “SAVE ME!” and “OUCH, OH NO!” She shoots so much of her spoogy webs that she’s sure she’s running out of web juice. She uses her last bit of webby goodness to save a bus from falling into a crater, but at what cost?

Secured by a web to a column of a building, the bus hangs precariously on the edge. Silk orders all the mofos off the bus NOW before it crashes and everyone dies of blunt force trauma to the bones and the vital organs. Everyone gets off the bus. Silk somehow falls into the crater with the bus. She isn’t hurt, but she’s pinned by debris.

Silk (Vol. 1), Issue #7

Albert… this is all your fault, Albert… go… go suck a dick, Albert…

As Silk loses consciousness, she remembers saying goodbye to her parents before entering the bunker. They all hug in a tender “we’ll never see each other again because of bunker reasons” embrace.

“Silk… um… little help?”

Silk slowly opens her eyes to find a TERRIFYING dragon and claw-type creature lifting the debris off of her body. Dragonclaw for the win, as the kids say. Redemption arc. Yawn.

Things aren’t good though, so this is no place for a guy with a daughter to be! Go back to your home where you can both die together in peace!

Then she kisses Harris Porter on the cheek.

Silk (Vol. 1), Issue #7

Presented without comment.

Silk is gung-ho about finding Albert before a planet hits her in the face. She ends up in the halfway house where people are scrambling and throwing papers around and all-around making a bruhaha.

“I’m looking for a patient… James Park.”

“Park? We don’t have a Park here.”

“Are you sure–”

“He might be on the fourth floor. Assisted living isn’t my department.”

ASSISTED LIVING?? As in bedpans and wheelchairs? She books it to the fourth floor as the planet looms and looms. He’s in room 407, but there’s mere seconds before impact. There’s no time! No time!

She finds him just in time. A young man with Silk newspaper clippings pasted all over the walls.

The hug in a tender “we’ll never see each other again because of planet-killing-humanity reasons” embrace.

The scene slowly fades to white.

“I’m sorry. For everything,” Silk says. “And I love you Albert. I love you.”

Fade completely to white. Story over.

Final Thoughts

It’s going to take me forever to get to the bottom of this Killer Red Planet business! In the meantime, I’m gonna move on to Silk Vol. 2 and pretend all this nasty End of the World unpleasantness is behind me forever! Bye!


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Octavia, Chapter 1 – The Beginning

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.

My name is Octavia Maria, first daughter of Octavius Caesonius, a farmer. I was born on a small farm outside of Tuscany in 1503; my mother died during childbirth and my father never remarried. I was the fifth of five children; all four of my older brothers were able to help tend the farm during my childhood. I am a 21-year-old female assassin who takes jobs in Tuscany. I’m often hired to take out members of political organizations for reasons that are of no concern to me.

The two people who mean the most to me in my life are my father, a kind but uneducated man, and my mentor Claudius Marcus, a man who taught me everything I know about the art of assassinating.

My weapon of choice for assassination is the dagger, my prized possession handed down by Claudius of which I am skilled at using swiftly and clandestinely. I am also very good with a slingshot, a sentimental object I carried around as a child as if it were an extension of my body. It was gifted to me by my father after he discovered my impish, mischievous personality (I liked to climb trees and, occasionally, scare the cows). Killing old, fat men’s political enemies requires a lot of smooth-talking, something I excel at as a woman with certain accessories that please men of all stations. I am also adept at slinking around quietly, which is useful for creeping up on targets and merchants with wares I don’t have the coin to afford. I have a locket that belonged to my mother that I wear around my neck in honor of her memory. My older brothers have been treating me poorly for years and they blame me for our mother’s death. Once, my eldest brother Livius Lucanus stole the locket straight off my neck and threw it on a rafter in the barn. It took me hours to retrieve it, and I’ve never forgiven him for it.

Three weeks after my 21st name day, I was hired to kill a young, handsome man named Bonizzone Petruccio. I learned his daily habits and routines, which were, for the most part, fairly repetitive. He would leave his manor shortly before the sun rose and head for the court, where he stayed until well after the sun went down (never leaving during the day to meet with and/or dine with political allies, something other members of the monarch’s court dabbled in frequently to secure funding for their nasty political agendas). I spied on Bonizzone for six days, perched atop buildings in inconspicuous areas, before following him home after one particularly late night at the court. I skulked in the shadows, darted from alley to alley, as Bonizzone took the twisty path through the Tuscan streets back to his family’s manor…

At one point I lost him in a particularly empty quarter of the merchant’s sector. There were five paths before me in the square, and I didn’t know which one to take until, suddenly, a figure dropped down from an awning behind me. I reached for my dagger, but the figure kicked it out of my hand. It was the only time during my career as an assassin that I was sure I was going to die. Was I followed? Was I betrayed? I was seething with anxiety and anger.

“Octavia Maria…” said the figure. “I am not here to hurt you.”

I didn’t believe the words I heard. I turned around and stared into the eyes of the handsome face of Bonizzone Petruccio, member of the House of Habsburg and a high-level secretary of King Charles V’s court. I could have killed him right there while he thought my guard was down, but there was something enchanting about those steel-blue eyes. I couldn’t look away. “I have been keeping an eye on you, Octavia Maria,” Bonizzone said seductively, “and I believe your services could be very useful to me for a very long time. Whomever hired you to kill me, I’ll pay you eight times over to kill him instead.”

Bonizzone was not unkind to me. He became my chief employer. I took all of his contracts with nary an argument, becoming his private assassin, and fairly soon I was wealthy enough to afford paying back my many of my father’s debts and funding the farm where appropriate. Of course, that fateful night in the Tuscany merchant’s square Bonizzone bent my head to the side and turned me. I was left with two puncture marks on my neck, but those faded over time. What was permanent was the new blood-red iris of my right eye. I’m told it is unnoticeable in the dark, and it actually looks quite fetching when paired with the smoky gray iris of my left eye. Nonetheless, to maintain my inconspicuousness I now wear an eyepatch and claim that an illness required removal of my right eye.

Skills:
Assassinating
Smooth-Talking
Sneaking

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.


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Silk (Vol. 1), Issue #6

* Part 6 of 7 of the Life and Times of Cindy Moon storyline *

Welcome to Loneliness & Cheeseburgers Presents: Silk (Vol. 1), Issue #6! In the previous installment, Dragonclaw’s (Harris Porter) daughter (Marie Porter) gets kidnapped (abducted) by Black Cat (James Spader) and only Silk (Cindy Moon) can stop her! With the help of Spider-Man, of course (a butt).

Unfortunately, while Black Cat was getting owned, someone grabbed a nearly unconscious Silk from Black Cat’s lair and now she’s strapped to an operating table by Repairman, who declares that he works for the people who have Silk’s family!

So, the plot thickens, as they say. Let’s see what happens next! (nothing)

Silk (Vol. 1), Issue #6 [October, 2015]
Written by: Robbie Thompson

Silk (Vol. 1), Issue #6

You think a couple of chains and shackles can hold back Silk?? Nothing can hold back Silk! Not even gluten!

Flashback. Cindy is packing a suitcase. Her mother is worried. “I don’t trust this Ezekiel,” she says. “What if—what if he wants to experiment on you? Cut you open, see how… whatever this is works?”

Then she’ll be worse for wear! Shut up, mother.

“Honestly? Compared to what he’s offering… that sounds easier,” Cindy responds, really putting her mother at ease. What a nice, wholesome conversation. I’m glad things all worked out.

Flashforward to Silk secured to the operating table. Her fingers are blocked, so there is to be no webs today! But… she can wiggle… maybe… just maybe… she can wiggle… herself…

“I’m not going to be able to use any sedatives, so you may want to save your breath for screaming,” Repairman says with an air of jubilation in his voice.

Meanwhile, Spider-Man is looking for that lady he has a crush on. You know. Silk. He finds Black Cat among some rubble, and she asks Spider-Man where the FUCK Silk went.

Black Cat was double-crossed, see. Bamboozled, see. Hoodwinked, see. And now she has no idea where Silk went. She just knows that she’s alive… “…but not for long.”

Silk (Vol. 1), Issue #6

Don’t get silky with the guy looking close-up at your unmentionables.

Repairment examines Silk with a comically large magnifying glass. He knows about the spider bite, much to her amazement and confusion. “Keep him talking,” she thinks. “Distracted. And, y’know. Not cutting into me.”

She asks about her family. Repairman has no idea about them, but hoo boy does he know the people who took them. Very powerful people. Some of the most powerful people he’s ever known. Kobe Bryant pre-helicopter crash powerful. Deep pockets. “They’ve gone to such great lengths. Watched your ever move in that bunker. So, I knew anyone worth that much to them… would be worth a whole lot more on the black market.”

Silk gets nervous. People have been watching her for ten fucking years? Like, showering and pooping in the corner?

“Who the hell are they?” she asks.

“I have no idea,” he responds. “And I don’t care.” He presents a scalpel. Silk keeps wiggling. He’s about to poke her in the leg when, suddenly, there’s a CRACK. And the wiggling worked! She breaks free and sucker punches this douchebag right in the temple.

He’s irate now, son. He’s about to really let Silk have it, but Black Cat shows up and knocks Repairman unconscious with an unidentified flying object. Perhaps it was a bust of Danny DeVito. He goes “GUH!” and falls to the floor. Then Black Cat whips him. Then she throws a pie in his face. Then she nuzzles him. Then they all go out for pizza.

Then Black Cat throws him through a column the supports the ceiling! The roof starts crumbling! Gotta act fast! Gotta THOOM!

Silk (Vol. 1), Issue #6

THOOMing always works!

Silk fears that the roof has collapsed onto Repairman, killing him. I don’t know why she fears this. I would have wanted him dead. “YOU KILLED HIM!” she screams to Black Cat, fire in her eyes. Silk runs at her intending to tackle her and/or pull on her ears really hard.

“I didn’t kill him. The ceiling killed him,” Black Cat refutes. Then she roundhouse kicks Silk in the head, knocking her through a… third-story window. Black Cat grabs Silk’s hair, basically scalping her to keep her from plummeting to her death. “It doesn’t have to be like this. You could come work for me. People who work for me don’t wind up on operating tables. Or hanging for their lives by their hair.”

Silk is just mad as shit! Mad as balls! That Repairman knew about her family, and Black Cat comes in and just fucks that all up for her! Silk brandishes her claws (apparently) and slices through the chunk of hair that Black Cat is holding onto. Silk falls and THWIPs some webs onto Black Cat’s titties. She falls with her, and bangs around emergency exit ladders and other forms of scaffolding.

Silk (Vol. 1), Issue #6

I beat up old women for breakfast! Haha! What!

When Black Cat lands, Silk punches the everloving fuck out of her face. Yeah gurl. Black Cat finally topples to the street and lands on top of a parked car. Anyone else would’ve died, but this is a comic book! No one dies in comic books! Except Captain America, hopefully, one day.

In fact, Black Cat perks up right away and attempts to fight back… but then decides to call it a draw. Some real copout stuff here. “I’ll see you soon, Rookie. And think about my offer. Or next time, one of us doesn’t walk away.”

Yeah, yeah, yeah. What a badass. Silk sits back and takes the time to finally catch her breath. She barely gets to do even that when WHO SHOULD POP IN but Spider-Man. He, of course, asks if she’s ok. She’s not.

Silk removes her mask. “The jerk who took me… he knew something about where my parents are. She killed him. I’m never gonna find them, am I?”

Spider-Man makes a face (which is impressive, considering the mask) and is all like “YO, QUEEN, THAT AIN’T TRUE.”

“Cin… did you mean what you said? That I should have left you in the bunker?”

The rain has soaked her to the bone. She admits that, no, she didn’t mean that. It’s just that freedom is hard. So very, very hard. Harder than imprisonment, which sounds pretty sweet actually if it wasn’t for all the prison beatings and all the bread and water.

Cindy returns to her cozy little bunker. Remembering what Repairman said about the surveillance, she starts kicking around furniture and bashing open walls, eventually finding the camera. She then decides she has a lot of stress and anxiety, so she makes her way to the roof calls the number of the psychiatrist that smelly Reed Richards provided to her.

“I’ll get some help. Getting help is good. I mean, it’s not the end of the world, right?”

Behind her, the end of the world is happening. That giant red planet is crashing toward Manhattan.

Final Thoughts

Oh snap, Ms. Silk! Get back in that fucking bunker before your ass is grass!

We’re almost done. Grab life by the silk while you still can.


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State of the Blog Address – July, 2024

State of the Blog

Donald Trump, 45th President of the United States, pictured here after getting struck by a bird while on a roller coaster.

Welcome, “friends”, to yet another State of the Blog Address! I’m your host, Tom Writesaboutstuff, and I’m here to cram a bunch of words into your eyeballs.

I’m going to do things a little different today, and by that I mean I’m going to bitch and moan unrelentingly. You see, longtime fans of my stupid website that no one knows about (especially you, who isn’t reading this at all), I’ve hit a bit of a slump. A flump. A spump. An ambivalence, if you will. On one hand, this website means a tremendous amount to me and I’d love nothing more than to keep it active. On the other hand, keeping it active feels like homework at the moment. I’m finding it difficult to get enthusiastic about keeping up with the content that I want to write about. For every movie, TV show, and book I consume, that’s another post to write. And while at one point this was very exciting to me, I’m finding myself sifting through a small backlog of posts that need to be finished.

You may not have noticed, loyal imaginary reader, because I still keep churning out the content on a near-daily basis. This is because I’ve literally done so much writing that I have finished article upon finished article upon finished article on the backburner. I’m talking nearly 100 finished articles just waiting to be dropped. This may sound insane to people who aren’t me, but I have this compulsion to drop only one article on any given day. Obviously, my frequent prolificity and my ability to write up to 3,000 words a day has caused me to be quite ahead over the last few years. It’s a nice buffer for times like this when I just don’t feel like I have it in me to write.

Where are my roadblocks? Allow me to go over it all in mind-numbing detail that only I could possibly care about. This is all a behind the scenes exclusive!

Movies

Working on this website got me back into watching movies, an activity I was never thrilled about in my adult life until I got ambitious and started cataloging my movie-watching via blogging. As of this writing, I’ve posted 50 movie articles and I currently have 35 on the backburner. That may not sound like much, but that’s more movies than I watched in the ’00s and ’10s combined, easily. Considering I started Flicked Off! in 2022, that’s fairly frequent for my own standards. That’s about a movie every 1.2 weeks.

My hang up here is twofold. First, I made the mistake of including a movie synopsis section, and while I try to make it somewhat humorous, those are an absolute chore to write. It’s always the last thing I do, and unless I’m in a unique mood, I tend to dread it. This is all supposed to be fun, and that is not very fun. Second, sometimes I just don’t have much to say about a movie. Take Say Anything, for example. I watched this movie for the first time in June, and you’ll most likely see it posted in about nine months to a year. I’ve watched two other movies since with full write-ups, and I don’t really know what to write about with respect to this LOVELY John Cusack and Ione Skye romantic romp. Sure, it’s good, it holds up really well, John Cusack isn’t at all creep even by 2024 standards, the two have wonderful chemistry, and the criminal father side plot is an interesting take on the understanding, trusting father on the surface who just wants his daughter to be happy. Other than that, I don’t know what else to say. And maybe in another mood I can could come up with a trillion things to yammer on about, like platonic female friendships or the shitty Peter Gabriel song blasting out of Cusack’s boombox. But right now my MUSE just isn’t there.

I still want to watch movies, though. It’s quite a conundrum.

TV

State of the Blog

Joe Biden pictured rubbing two dementia-addled brain cells together trying to figure out where he left his colostomy bag.

Through the Idiot Glass is easier for me because all I have to do is ramble incoherently about a full season of a TV show. I barely even have to talk about it! I just write stuff like “Tony Soprano is a dummy” or “The Smoke Monster is sexy” and coast for the rest of the post! No complaints here.

I’m making some progress on the Fantasy/Sci-Fi Diaries, having about eight episodes of X-Files on the backburner. I also started watching Star Trek: The Next Generation, so expect to see those episodes pop up soon! Buffy has taken a backseat for now since Season 1 is so atrocious and hard to get through. Expect features for Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, Star Trek: Voyager, Star Trek: Enterprise, Angel, Farscape, Babylon 5, Stargate SG-1, Stargate: Atlantis, and Supernatural once I learn how to stop time at my will and/or learn to sleep for only 15 minutes per day.

Another TV idea I have: Suffering through every episode of Zombie Simpsons (Seasons 9 – present). I don’t have time for this until my kids leave for college.

Comics

Comic books are not a problem at all right now, especially since I write them as I read them. It makes it super easy and fun to boot! I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of reading comic books in this fashion.

Other features like Stripcreatin’, Cruisin’ Thru Calvin & Hobbes, and Manga Cum Loudly are tougher to get motivated to work on. It doesn’t help that I absolutely hate manga and, even though I love to hate-write about it, it’s not enough for me to dedicate an hour during my busy days anymore. Hopefully I can free up some time somewhere along the line for these features, because they are fun to write when I’m in the right mood.

Music

Ha! Dead in the fucking water. Considering that this blog was originally going to be called “Tom Writes About Music”, and considering that I have an earbud blasting tunes in my brain for literally 14 hours a day, it’s amazing to me that I don’t care enough to write about any of it right now. The biggest blow is Newer Release Roundup, a feature I put a lot of time into during the beginning that is now a desolate wasteland. I’m just not listening to much new music these days. Am I finally getting old? Fuck.

In an attempt to repent for my sins, I’m revamping Metallurgical Evaluation and AudioBiography. The former will allow me to write about metal in a relatively low-pressure environment, and the latter will allow me to write about everything else in a relatively low-pressure environment. I really hope I can put some work into these two features sooner rather than later.

Other than that? Pfffft.

Other Stuff

State of the Blog

John Adams pictured in 1790 before roller coasters and colostomy bags existed, unfortunately.

Stand-Up Deep Dive is my second-newest feature and it has really bolstered my motivation to write like none other! Here’s what I do: I take an hour-long walk while listening to CARLOS MENCIA jibber-jabber in my ears and I take extensive notes. So I’m laughing uproariously in public and I’m staying healthy to boot! When I can’t get something on audio, I’ll watch the special on my favorite streaming service. It’s a slam dunk idea, and I need more new ideas like this to keep my ass writing.

Playing with Myself will be my attempt at tackling some solo RPG journaling games. Ironsworn, Starforged, Thousand Year Old Vampire, and 23,000 others! Seriously, there are a lot of solo RPGs out there. Eventually I’ll try a solo campaign of Dungeons & Dragons, but first I’ll need to punch my balls sixty times in preparation.

Dear Journal is miserably barren lately. I wish I could write more about random shit, but I’m simply not getting the inspiration to plop down 1,000 words about paper clips or Estonian elections. I would love to write in Dear Journal constantly, but it’s just not happening right now.

My Earthbound playthrough project started last November and stopped around January. I’ve written up eight chapters that are ready to post, but I want to get more progress under my belt before I start dropping them on you, the unsuspecting public! This is really fun to do, but I just simply don’t have time to really put the effort into it.

Here’s What Would Be Fucking Awesome

My biggest influence with respect to online satire is Something Awful, so I’ve spent a better part of the last 24 years of my life trying to emulate their front page in my own way. Making money off this site would be great, but it ain’t happening. So, ideally, I would just need to get rich enough to stay home and write for no profit while my wife spends all her weekdays toiling in the salt mines.

OR, barring that, some A.I. robots need to hire me to post two articles per day, every day. I’d pump this bitch so full of content that it would be overflowing like Mount Saint Helens, killing everyone in its pyroclastic path. And I’d have plenty of time to do everything I want to do and then some.

A man can dream. And by “man” I mean me, which is weird because I’ve never felt like a man in my life.

Thanks for reading! Until next time, keep watching the skies!


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Detective Comics (Vol. 1), Issue #576 – “Chapter Two: Deal With the Devil”

* Part 2 of 4 of the Batman: Year Two storyline *

Welcome to Loneliness & Cheeseburgers Presents: Detective Comics (Vol. 1), Issue #576 – “Chapter Two: Deal with the Devil”! In the previous installment, there’s a new vigilante in town and he’s actually an old vigilante! He fancies himself as “The Reaper” and he’s actually some old fart named Mr. Caspian and he can kick Batman’s ass just by flicking his little stubby penis.

Bruce Wayne is like “hurr de durr I can’t beat him” so he grabs his gun. lmao

I can’t wait to see where this is headed.

Detective Comics (Vol. 1), Issue #576 [July, 1987]
Written by: Mike W. Barr
“Chapter Two: Deal With the Devil”

Detective Comics (Vol. 1), Issue #576

See, look at that cover. Batman’s just going to start shooting things now, I guess, while The Reaper scythes off his underwear.

The police have set up a tactical team organized to escort Big Willie Golonka to prison before the media circus becomes, well, a circus! Well, there’s someone on the roof who wants to take out Golonka before he even has a chance to join a prison gang. This motherfucker in a green suit and a green hat is sniping people from the rooftop. The tactical team’s bullets fly right through him! What the fuck is going on?! Why and how?!

Long story short, while the tactical team paws around the ground looking for their testicles, Reaper Man sneaks up to Golonka and blasts him right through the chest WITH CUM! Didn’t see that one coming, did you?

The team tries to subdue The Reaper, but The Reaper is just too smart and cunning and invincible for that. He flees. He flees just in time for Commissioner Gordon to show up to get some details on this catastrophic failure. “Two dead, four wounded, one of those critical!” yelps that tactical team leader. “He’s been taken on ahead. They found the armored car – deserted of course. Run it through the lab, just in case.”

Good idea, sir. Run the whole car through the lab. Like it were a car wash.

Oh snap, the guy in critical condition is dead now. Commissioner Gordon will call his family and tell them the news (“WUBBA LUBBA DUB DUB, GUESS WHO KICKED THE BUCKET?!”). The mayor is calling, by the way, and he wants to know when Gordon is going to show up for the pancake breakfast the next morning. Gordon wants the mayor to shove his phone up his butt.

Meanwhile, Bruce Wayne is doing some target practice in his cave while Alfred watches with stoic glee. “I wasn’t aware you’d been keeping up on your marksmanship,” he says after Bruce hits his target roughly 47 times in a row.

Bruce ascends the staircase in his robe and slippies and greets Dr. Leslie Thompkins with a hearty “Good morning”. Leslie is not having a good morning. She barely slept knowing Bruce was down there with his, his, his, his gun!

Detective Comics (Vol. 1), Issue #576

I’ve got a gun in my pocket and I’m happy to see ya! Does that help?

Leslie asks her smiling chum what his father might think of him toting that gun around. Bruce then frowns. We’re really seeing the full gamut of emotion here.

In the end, whatever! Bruce plans on prowling the streets tonight, as does The Reaper. He hangs up his costume for the morning and greets his lovely nun daughter Rachel. Then he’s all like “your mother would be proud but too bad she’s DEAD” and then we get a flashback of some dickhead shooting her on the street while the whole family returns from the circus. Sound familiar?

Judson Caspian (JUDSON??) sat in a wheelchair during the funeral because a bullet clipped his balls or something. He grips the arm of the wheelchair angrily as the priest reads off some scripture bullshit. I’d be mad too if some priest was talking!

Snapping out of his stupor, Judson reminds his daughter that everything he does, he does for her. Then he walks off, never to be seen again! At least until a few pages from now or so.

I forgot to mention that Leslie wanted to cancel a lunch date with Rachel, and Bruce said he’d take care of letting her know. Well, this is how he lets her know: by ambushing her while she waits for Leslie. Bruce is all smiles! Leslie asked him to come in her place! Isn’t that what we all want?!

(no)

Detective Comics (Vol. 1), Issue #576

Mostly, though, I just want to cheer up grumpy old ice cream men.

The two enjoy dinner and talk mostly about Bruce because he’s so damn interesting and charming. Puke. What’s particularly interesting, actually, is his contributions to Leslie’s organizations. The foundation in his father’s name. It all smacks of loneliness. Lonely like her weird father. “He lost the only joy in his life when my mother died… he became distant, withdrawn. I’d hate it if that happened to you.”

So then they kiss in the park. Bruce, you sly dog.

Later, Batman sneaks up on Jim Gordon while he’s in his office. Boogity boogity! Did I scare ya? Good.

Gordon was just about to call him about The Reaper. Batman is working on a plan, and it involves a complicated Rube Goldberg device where a pie flies in his face. And he’s going to work alone. No police involvement, y’hear? If there’s a leak, Batman will find out and he will fuck your butt so hard that you’ll be puking cum. Dig?

While Batman is out doing his thing, Gordon assembles a team to take out Johnny Heymer the Metropolis Mob Boss Extraordinaire. However, shit hits the fan when the ground crew approaches the airplane before the passengers disembark. That wasn’t part of the plan! Whuzzat?? OH SHIT THE REAPER JUST SHOWED UP TO KILL JOHNNY HEYMER BUT THEN BATMAN SHOWS UP TO FIGHT THE REAPER! BAHABRHABRHAB!!

So they fight with sharp objects and smoke bombs and Jack-in-the-Boxes with giant punching gloves in them. All the while, The Reaper tries to get at Heymer to give him the ol’ scythey-scythey. Batman attempts to distract The Reaper long enough to get Heymer to safety, but it’s tough. For one thing, The Reaper isn’t getting very distracted. Also, Batman sucks.

Detective Comics (Vol. 1), Issue #576

Come on, loser. Beat up the old man. Start mocking his dead wife!

The Reaper gets his scythe stuck in a wall. This is his downfall. The police show up to arrest him, but The Reaper starts using his secret gun shoulder attachment and then flees off into the night.

There’s one thing off about all this, though…

“What’s what with the Batman?” asks a member of Gordon’s team. I thought he was on our side!”

“So did I, McGinley,” Gordon says, puffing on his fat pipe. “Looks like we were both wrong.”

The High Council of Mob Bosses are meeting at some dingy dive near the pier. Sales are down, gentlemen. Our prostitutes don’t want to go out. Our drug merchants are afraid to deal. The Reaper is wreaking havoc on our legitimate businesses! A man named Morgan Jones knows what to do about this. He blows dainty smoke rings as he suggests putting a hit out on this guy. Badabing badaboom! Fuggeddaboutit.

Batman suddenly throws Heymer from the roof to the table they’re all sitting at. “Your attention please… I’m here to call a truce. I want The Reaper as much as you do… but for my own reasons.”

Yeah. Bruised ego.

So Batman suggests working together to achieve the same goal. Instead of all the infighting, let’s join hands in harmony and peace. The Mob Boss leader begrudingly approves.

…but there’s someone there that Batman already knows…

…a vicious, ruthless killer…

…Joe Chill…

…?…

…the guy who shot Batman’s parents 25 years ago…

…and Batman’s all like “gronk”.

Detective Comics (Vol. 1), Issue #576

gronk

Final Thoughts

“gronk” is basically all I have to say, too. Put that in your pipe and smoke it.


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