Namor The Sub-Mariner #1 (1990)

I'm a wee bit afraid of the ocean. There is no official phobia involved, just my sense of logic. You see, there are too many critters that can get you. Simple as that. I'm not keen on stepping foot into the world's largest death trap just for fun. I'll let others get their jollies mingling with jellyfish.

That being said, one may think it's odd I have so much affection for Namor #1. But it's the call of nostalgia rather than Neptune that draws me to the briny depths today. I was twelve years old when this comic was released in 1990. The golden age of my fandom. Some of you may be in the same boat despite the decade. Can you pick up a comic from your youth and memories crash over you like a tidal wave of sweet sentimentality? By the look on your face, I can tell that's a resounding yes. See that, we're not so different you and I. So sit back, get your galoshes on and join me as we revisit Namor The Sub-Mariner #1 (cover date April 1990) from Marvel Comics.

Namor stepped on a Lego.

The creators:

I've got a name for you, John Lindley Byrne. Ever heard of him?  The artistry is something to admire but his career is not without controversy. I'm not going to focus on any of that, so feel free and google to your heart's content if you enjoy digging in the dirt. I will say, with some terrific turns on classic characters, only a select few could draw finer than Byrne in his prime. 

Bob Wiacek is one of the all-time greats. With a resume longer than a CVS receipt, it's a good bet he's worked on some of your favorite books and deserves a tip of the cap.

Now for the story...

We are introduced to Caleb Alexander and his daughter Carrie. A pair of Marine Biologists studying secret testing grounds in the south Pacific aboard their boat, the Oracle. Noticing an aggressive blip on the radar, Carrie prepares to investigate but ends up shocked to witness what erupts from the water.

Don't let the ankle wings fool you, it's not Chicken of the Sea.

Believed to be dead by the world at large after the events of the Atlantis Attacks, it turns out Namor is alive and well. Scratch that, alive and crazier than a crab with bad credit! So much so, when Caleb and Carrie track him to a nearby island, the Sub-Mariner has taken out his scorn for false idols on the locals.

 Dude, it's Tinder not TIMBER! Next time just swipe left, okay?

Amid a haze of hallucination, Caleb and Carrie manage to calm Namor down. He follows them back to the Oracle where Caleb claims to have a cure for his bouts of bonkers. Speaking of nutty, the device Caleb has looks more like a fancy coffee machine rather than a solution for insanity. As comic fans though, we should all know to never judge a book by its cover or a doohickey for utter lack of sensible design. 

There was one side effect to the treatment. You no longer have nipples.

Looks aside, it's quite a handy dandy little gadget and Caleb's one clever cat. He's dedicated his life to studying Namor. Why? We'll get to that in a minute but first, the diagnosis. Namor has a blood problem and I'm not talking about the gang. He's a man of two worlds and needs a proper balance of both to function properly. Out of the water too long, cue the cuckoo clock. Log a little too much time on land, off to the loony bin. Caleb has formulated a way to please his plasma by keeping those pesky oxygen levels stable. This is a pretty neat plot point worth exploring...oh wait, obligatory origin time!

Roman. I'll name him Roman. No?

 The flashbacks aren't over folks. So why is Caleb so enamored with Namor? Gotta go back to WW2 when Caleb was just a lad living in Harlem. Following a ceremony honoring the Invaders at City Hall, he chased after Namor on his bike. With his eye to the sky, Caleb lost track of his surroundings and plummeted off a pier. Luckily, much like breaking your leg in a hospital, his hero was overhead. After the save that day, he dedicated his life to marine biology and studying the Sub-Mariner. He even named his own ship after the vessel Namor's father once commanded. Stalker skills are strong on this guy.

Did Grandma tell you about the restraining order?

It's also revealed that Caleb's got a bad ticker and is unable to dive, hence the reason for teaming up with his daughter. Namor claims he has much to consider and takes off. Personally, I think after all that blood work he should've at least had a cookie or some juice. One page and two weeks later he returns with a gift.

                        

 For the love of God, don't open it!

The chest is chock full of treasure. Namor has hatched a plan to reclaim all the riches lost at sea and invest the fortune in various business ventures.  Not to be accused of having barnacles as brains, he realizes the only way to influence surface dwellers is by flashing them with some green. Money that is, not his skivvies. But just when you thought it was safe to go into Wall Street, we meet Phoebe and her twin brother Desmond Marrs.

 Most twins share clothes, these two share a barber.

In typical Byrne fashion, a ton of story is crammed in here. There's also no real action to be had unless you count the trouncing of the tribe people. Yet, this is not a bad thing. Can you believe readers were treated to the "all-new direction" advertised on the cover? Gasp! It's true! A fresh, interesting take had arrived and if you were new to the character of Namor, you wouldn't miss a beat. I'll buy that for a dollar. Psst...I recently paid fifty cents for a copy. Imperius Rex!

What I would criticize are the off-panel details. While it only happened once in this issue when the Prince of Atlantis went off to ponder, this occurs again during Byrne's run and proves to be annoying. I'll consider it a give and take scenario, however as I was also wowed by his use of duo-shade starting with issue four. But that conversation is reserved for a future edition of Two Staple Gold.

I can see why I loved this at the age of twelve and better still, it stands up today. If you come across Namor The Sub-Mariner #1 on the shores of back issue beach, be sure to snag it.

 I brood better in blue.

-David Schultz

Want to see Namor battle a booger in the bronze age? CLICK HERE

* all external links used for informational purposes only.

The Frankenstein Monster #8

Originally published October 14th 2017

                                                                        

Halloween is here! Can't say I'm much of the celebrating type considering my childhood was spent decked out in flammable plastic...and handing out candy to other kids. All dressed up with nowhere to go. Thanks Mom, for making an 8 year old man the door. Don't feel bad. I've more than made up for it over the years by consuming my body weight in miniature Snickers.

                                                                   

 "The sweet smell of nostalgia and noxious plastic fumes."

We're not here to discuss my tragic backstory. That's what hard liquor is for. No dear friends, time to talk comics. With the spirit of this hair raising holiday in mind, I've decided to revisit some Bronze Age Marvel Monsters. Everyone enjoys a good fright right? Publishers recognized the appeal of horror and flooded the market with a myriad of titles dedicated to the macabre. The majority of these issues had an anthology layout while solo books were reserved for the genres movie mainstays. Dracula being the most notable and popular with the fans.

This makes The Monster Frankenstein #8 (cover dated January 1974) pretty interesting to me. First, he's the big brute of scary set but with an over saturated market, the chatter in the crypt was Frankenstein's book neared it's demise. Frank's adventures needed a little life, so Marvel turned to Dracula for a three issue guest appearance. Did it do the trick or was this story more rotten than a Jack o' Lantern in late November? Let's take the lid off of this nefarious narrative by Gary Friedrich and the brilliant John Buscema.

                                                     


As the cover indicates, we start with Frankenstein opening a coffin to reveal Dracula rip roaring and ready to go. For an immortal creature he doesn't bother to waste any time. This leaves Franky boy a tad shocked. One would think Drac might like to use the bathroom after waking up, or perhaps enjoy a good stretch before going into stalk mode. We got ourselves one nimble Nosferatu here!

                                  

"You and me both Pal..."

I gotta admit, it's pretty cool this story hits you with action outta the gate but how did this meeting come to be? Sheer chance? Of course not. Enter Marguerita the Hag. This little old lady lured Frank into her gypsy camp last issue. Filling his belly with food and his heart with high hopes of finding a home, she requests he follows her to a cave. Turns out only he possesses the strength needed to open the coffin that lies within. Here's the rub, Marguerita is in fact a vampire herself eager to see her dark lord again. Be careful what you wish for baby!

                                                              

"Knuckle sandwiches are included with the early bird special."

While all this geriatric grappling is going down, the reader is introduced to Marguerita's beautiful granddaughter, Carmen. Bearing witness to the melee, the girl is horrified to discover her beloved Bubbe is a baddie. Marguerita grabs Carmen violently, turning Frank's eye away from Dracula. He saves the girl from a vampire bite and drives a stake through her matriarch's ticker.

                                                              

"You're the reason for my life...You're the inspiration."

Dracula sees this as prime time to hit the bricks. I mean, c'mon all that stalking makes a guy thirsty.  So off to the nearest town for blood he goes. Meanwhile, Frankenstein and Carmen emerge from the cave to discover the entire gypsy camp, once welcoming to Franky, have been slaughtered. The nearby Townsfolk felt the need to punish them for turning the woods into the Universal Studios Monsters Tour. Now they gone and done it. Not only is Drac on his way to suck 'em dry but Frankenstein is out to avenge his fallen friends.

                                                              

"Nowadays you can just illegally download some Gypsy Jams. Back then, not so much."

Let's tackle my biggest gripe about this issue. Hell, about Vampire tales in general. Anytime I see the whole change into a bat but keep my face thing, I'm annoyed. Why? Just go full on bat. To add garlic to my gripe, Dracula even keeps his collar here! You may think you're the most stylish flying rat in Transylvania there buddy but next time just rock a leisure suit. The ladies will love it! Well, some maybe. Ok..keep the collar.

                                                              

"Do these wings make my ass look fat?"

Where were we? Ah yes, a fury infused Frankenstein! The denizens of Gypsy Genocideville are aware he is en route. Rather than play sitting duck, the Burgomeister  insists they set out to kill the monstrosity before it arrives. Gotta love the role of Burgomeister. Has there been any other profession portrayed as a bigger dink in realm of fiction? The only other job that may hold a torch is the Hospital Orderly. I challenge you fine reader, to prove me otherwise.

                                                                                "Burgomeisters...cementing a bad rep for over 200 years."

As the Villagers wonder where to start the hunt, Frank's already arrived at the town square. He smashes a wagon and goes on a diatribe about hatred. For a supposed lunkhead, he's fairly spot on about men being the true monsters of the world. Word of advice to Frankenstein though: the Ghandi routine gets lost in translation when you murder everyone within arms reach! Hey, It's the thought that counts...right big guy?

                                                              

"Quit running! I have to see if your nether regions can accommodate a wagon wheel!"

Similar to Trick or Treaters that descend upon the house giving away full size candy bars, the locals manage to swarm on Frank. Someone finally realizes pitch forks are useless and grabs a rifle. Guns are a pretty lousy solution to any problem but I will say this, I'd be willing to get the resulting sound effect tattooed on one of my buttocks.

 

"Look on the bright side, at least scarring isn't an issue!"

Subdued by the bullet, Frank is tied to a post and given the "burn the witch" treatment. This ends with a splash page and is probably my single favorite moment of the book. The beast shows bravado only to seemingly crap his pants and with the odd word balloon placement, the chimney is telling him to die.

 

"Just friggin' great, you bumpkins had to go and burn the last good street pole!" 

Was this the spooky spectacular that reinvigorated my spirit for the season? Not quite. The problem here is the script. It cashes in on every cliche that's been used in genre from the get go. Pacing was good but it's terribly predictable. The art is the strength here as John Buscema makes you feel like you're watching a classic Monster movie.
Worth a read for fans of the subject matter but for the rest of us, It's a pass. Seal it in the Tomb of Tired Tropes and hope no one ever sets it free.


-David Schultz



*All images/video clips are rights of their respective owners. Links to external sites are used solely for informational purposes.

Ghost Rider #16

 Originally published July 21st 2017
 
                                        

I f'ing love Jaws. Enough so that I open up this column using a cuss when describing one of my favorite movie franchises. So, when I stumbled upon this issue of Ghost Rider #16 and saw the tease on the cover, I had to check it out. As I write this we are smack dab in the middle of the summer and what goes better with beaches and barbeques than our fear of man eating sharks.  Thanks to novelist Peter Benchley and director Steven Spielberg, Jaws has become a tradition that terrifies and thrills fans all over the world. We're all residents of Amity Island every July and Captain Quint is one of the most bad ass characters ever captured on celluloid.

Even if you put my affection for the flicks aside and just take this cover at face value,  how the hell does someone with a flaming skull and a motorcycle fight underwater? That in itself makes it goofy enough to garner my attention. Written by Bill Mantlo with art by George Tuska, let's see if its safe to swim with this story titled "Blood in the Water" from February 1976.


                           

Johnny Blaze is fed up with Los Angeles. He has decided to hit the road and head for Mexico. Seems like a popular destination for the superhero set. Upon reaching the border, we discover our neighbors to the south are really only concerned with one thing. Dirty Hippies. That's right, take your patchouli smelling ass and Grateful Dead records somewhere else pal. What do the customs agents like? Money. Johnny flashes some greenbacks and off to Baja we go.

              
                         "They may hate greasy gringo's but are suckers for Cherry Garcia"

Cruising down the coast, he pines for a simple life and spots a cozy little pad on the shoreline. Looks like quite the tranquil little piece of real estate. Except for a dude hellbent on shooting dolphins from his back porch. While this nutbag tries popping a cap in Flipper's ass, his daughter intervenes grabbing at his weapon. The stray bullet nails one of the tires on Johnny's skull cycle, sending him tumbling to the sand. I know every time I fall, my first instinct is to yell "Yahoo" rather than "Wipeout" but different strokes for different folks I suppose.

                  
                                     "Watch the property value plummet before your eyes."

Johnny is pissed off over taking a digger on the beach and confronts Mr. Jerkpants with the jazzy jaw. Despite being the type of guy who thinks it's cool to pound on his offspring, he feels guilty about wrecking Johnny's ride. He offers his shed  for repairs but Blaze is all about the booty and would rather chill in a dune with the man's daughter.

                       
         "Say baby, does your dad shoot at all the hunks possessed by demons or just me?"

Rather than get frisky, she feels the need to give her dad's origin. You see, Frank Phillips is the Punisher of the Pacific. Frank was hired by the C.I.A. to strap bombs on dolphins and experiment with using them as living torpedoes. Crazy as it sounds, militarizing mammals isn't just the stuff of comic book fiction.  Obsessed with his work, one day he takes his family out to sea with him. His kid falls in the water and a tragic backstory is born.

                  "Former Miami Dolphins season ticket holder could stand the losing NO MORE..."

No sooner than we get up to speed on why Frank is stark raving mad, he's at it again.  This guy is on a mission to eliminate all of dolphin-kind. I'm fond of the next panel, not because I dig murdering harmless animals but rather how dramatic the poor little buggers are as they take hot lead. Seriously, eat your heart out DiCaprio. These dudes deserved an Oscar way before your token victory for The Revenant.

                  "We would like to thank the Academy and  Mr.Limpett for paving the way."

You read that narration box correctly, Frank uses a tape recording to lure them in. Had he played his cards right, there are much more beneficial ways to control ocean life with that technology. Just sayin'...

                                            
                                             "Hey Namorita, I have a mix tape for you!"

Johnny isn't pleased all this commotion just put the kibosh on his beach blanket bingo with blondie. So what to do? Take the Skull Cycle, despite a flat tire and ride that sucker right at Frank's boat. Here's where his plan gets really special. Hurl your leather clad frame on deck cannon ball style. Pretty slick. I believe he may have created the greatest take down of a gunman in Marvel history.

 
                            "As far as dramatic entrances go, ass first is pretty impressive."

They duke it out as the boat drifts to sea but while the fists fly a rouge wave capsizes the vessel. A flaming skull did little to freak out Frank but he's amazed that those  finned foes that once felt his wrath are actually pretty friendly. No time for a tickle fest though as we are about to have our main event. That's right, cue the dah dum's and close the beaches. Ghosty has noticed a great white forgot his brown bagged lunch at home and needs a snack to hold him over.

          
                       "It must suck having no eyelids when swimming in the ocean. SALTY!"

Ghost Rider and Captain Quint actually have some things in common. Sure, they're both some seriously macho dudes but when it comes to decision making, not so bright. For those who remember the first Jaws film, Quint let his emotions take control and ( 42 year old Spoiler alert ) ends up as shredded wheat. Ghosty's first inclination is to shoot flames at the shark... underwater. While I commended the insane barrel roll to get on the ship, boiling the shark wouldn't be my first choice. Serious loss of kudos points there.

         "The look of a man determined to kill a shark or massive cocaine habit? You decide."

His lone option exhausted, not only has my question been answered on Ghost Rider's usefulness in water (NONE!) but now I'm not sure about the dolphins anymore. This whole issue I've been led to believe they are the victims. Sympathetic to the fact they had been led to slaughter while listening to smooth jams. To that, I now say nay. They are vicious little bastards! Swimming to Ghosty's aid by ramming themselves into the belly of the beast. I realize they are saving Ghost Riders chaps but man, maybe Frank has been right all along. There is some evil up in those blowholes.

       "Aww, he just wanted a S'more. Do you know how hard those are to come by down there?"

That's pretty much it. The dolphins do all the damage and save the day. A little lackluster in the man v.s. shark department but we got something even better. Frank has realized the error of his ways. The whole time the true enemy came from within. We close on a tender moment, where he apologizes to an entire species. Alright, tender was a poor choice...cheesy, that's better. We close on a cheesy moment where a crazy old man shouts at a wave. I'm not sure if the dolphins are supposed to be there in synchronized jump or if it's just symbolic but let's talk about if you should check this out.

        
                     "Believe it or not, this is the least absurd moment in the whole book."

You may think I'm high on seaweed but I really enjoyed this tale. The pace was excellent and the art was seriously outstanding stuff. Ok, granted It didn't live up to the hype promised on the cover but not being a Ghost Rider fan, I'm already more interested in his exploits from the 70's.

You may be asking "Dave, didn't you just claim the ending was a little dopey"? That I did but I also commonly say, remember the era it was released. You won't get The Watchmen back in 1976, so enjoy things for what they are. In this case done fairly well.
If you see this one out there in the bins, snag it.

By the way, I wouldn't be much of a Jaws fan If I didn't leave you with this:

- David Schultz

Marvel Two In One #96

Originally published June 30th 2017                             

                                    

Who doesn't have a soft spot for Marvel's hero made of rock? I'm talking of course about the Thing. Since 1961, Ben Grimm has been one of the cornerstones at the House of Ideas as a member of the Fantastic Four. Personally, in my younger years I was enthralled with him. Throw downs with the heaviest hitters were always a big draw. Any issue trading punches with the Hulk were an absolute event.

Marvel recognized his popularity and gave him a team up book in 1974. Thanks to the Two in One series, I get to wax nostalgic here on Two Staple Gold and it's Clobbering Time... all the time.

Here's the best part though, If your like me you may have lost track of the "Ever Lovin' Blue Eyed" Thing over the years. No biggie. He's like a friend that remained unchanged and will always be there for you. Revisiting his adventures is always a comforting experience. Or so I liked to believe.

Time to take our meds and see if this ish makes us sick or cures our blues. I present Marvel Two in One #96 "Visiting Hours" cover dated February 1983. Written by Tom DeFalco and penciled by Ron Wilson.

                             

Here's a tough pill to swallow, the Thing got his ass whooped. Boxing with the Champion is generally a bad idea and he's landed in the local Hospital. Reed Richards has decided that is the best place for him citing the Baxter Building's lack of "medical facilities to asses the true extent of his injuries". This is the first of many odd decisions to fit the narrative, considering Mr.Fantastic discovered the Negative Zone but can't handle some boo boo's. Even worse, Reed acknowledges Ben is a sitting duck if his enemies decided to strike. Most intelligent man on earth my ass, more like world's biggest dick.

 

"Well, you could have tried other options Nurse but Yancy Street is one way only."

 

Like Richards, the Mad Thinker  is a prognosticator. The classic FF foe seems to believe he has Orange Hides obituary ready for print. He has no intention of doing it himself but who can blame him? I would never leave my lair with a lousy haircut like that. It's cool though, as we are about to find out the rest of the Marvel Universe will pick up his slack.

                              

"Villainy 101: Get pissed and throw shit."

Spider-Man is on his way to visit his pal Benjy when he encounters the first nefarious nasty to crawl out of the woodwork...MECHO-MARAUDER! Never heard of him? Then your life is short on finger blasts. The dude is a straight up joke and Spidey makes quick work of him. It's worth noting this battle is the start of instances with sexual innuendo that litter this issue. I'm sure if I asked Tom DeFalco if my suspicions of sneaking in some naughty dialogue were on purpose, he would probably punch me in the face. I wouldn't fault the guy though, who didn't get a little randy watching Valerie Bertinelli on One Day at a Time back in the 80's? Sexy sweaters Tom! Who can resist?

"Didn't Aunt May warn you about palm tapping? You could go blind Pete!"

I'm going to skip over a few guest appearances during my summary. There's just way too many. One that can't be ignored is the debut of Nurse Hasslebutt. Aptly named and tough as nails, she takes no gump. The Web Slinger and Mr.Fantastic are no match for her mouth while she kicks everyone out of the Thing's room despite their pleas to stay. Hard to find characters in comics that command such consternation. I imagine her origin includes a bite from a radioactive Amanda Waller.

                             

"She's gotta be Hydra...or hungry."

Crash... Boom...Bang! Loud noises are another foil to this script. Everyone needs to make a grand entrance and how better to do that than smashing through a concrete wall. That's all fine and dandy, problem is the Thing never notices. Actually, NONE of the Hospital staff notices. Time for a full scale evacuation maybe? Seriously, check out Mole Man here just rolling up in an underground death tank. Is this a Healthcare facility or a drug den where everyone is so doped up on morphine they pay no attention subterranean slime balls?

                              

"I'm not having my blood work done here, those needles are outrageous!"

Why let the men have all the fun? The Grapplers, a team of female wrestlers led by the miserably monikered Poundcakes, have a bone to pick with the Thing. Unlike some of the other interlopers, they can't manage to break in thanks to Captain America standing watch. This battle is boring as all get out but I really just needed an excuse to include this panel in the article. "Dirty DeFalco" strikes again or should I seek professional help?

 

"Last time I answered to Poundcakes was back in Prison sweetheart"

What of Marvel's malevolent dictator Dr.Doom? He's aware of his  adversaries recent ailments courtesy of the Daily Bugle. That's quite a haul, New York to Latveria, hope he tips the paper boy. Surely, he of all people would love to take advantage of this situation. Nah, he'd rather go flirt with an oil can or something.

"Villainy 102: Stay pissed and continue to throw shit. Congrats, you graduated"

Back to those so called "Jackals". Looks like they brought Secret Wars to the streets. There is one criminal who has a more sensible plan. The Sandman is one sneaky dude. Slithering through the shafts, he has found success where all others have failed and enters our preferred patients room. What's he going to do? Smother him with a pillow, fill his cracks with granules of gloom until he snaps? Heck no! Sandy has shown up to pound some brews and smoke some stogies. You see, unlike the other barbarians at the gate, Sandman doesn't have a grudge but rather gratitude towards the Thing for turning his life around.

 

 "You guys go ahead and duke it out, I'll be dry humping a vent"

That's how this comes to a close. Sandy and Ben enjoying some cigars while chaos reigns in the parking lot. I hate being the person to bring this up but If the bad guys really wanted to send Ben Grimm to the graveyard, they should have reached across company lines and hired the Joker to do the job. Experience matters.

"Somebody get Nurse Hasslebutt a Snickers!"

The Verdict? The Doctor is out. Overall, It's ok. The humor is alright but far from Bwah Ha Ha funny. The art is decent enough for the time period. If your not a completionist there really is no reason to seek this out. To be fair, if you can find it in a dollar bin, there are worse ways to spend a buck. Consider this baby Rated Meh.

-David Schultz

Savage Sub-Mariner #72

Originally published May 6th 2017 

          

"Just use that cinnamon bun you call a fist to call somebody who cares"

So here's the scoop, I'm a massive Swamp Thing fan. For my money, all other monsters pale in comparison. Anytime a cruddy creature pops up in a comic with "Thing" as part of it's moniker it piques my interest. As far as the titular character, other than John Byrne's take in the early 90's, Namor has never made waves for me. But the moment I saw the cover for this one, It became a must read. This is also the last issue of the series so I had a feeling the ankle wings were free to fly and some wackiness may be in store.

Before we get started on the story, here are the fine folks who fished this out of their imaginations. Out of college, writer Steve Skeates started his career as Stan Lee's assistant performing proof reading duties. It was quickly discovered that editing wasn't his forte and he began writing for Marvel and every publisher in the industry. Working in multiple genres, he's had notable runs on Aquaman, Plastic Man and is the co-creator of Hawk and Dove. 

Artist Dan Adkins worked primarily in advertising prior to comics. In the 60's he joined the Wally Wood studio and later landed inking and penciling jobs for a slew of companies. In the 2000's he illustrated products for Parker Brothers. Without further ado, it's time to slap on your bikini and take a dip into The Savage Sub Mariner #72 "From the Void It Came"! Cover dated September 1974.
                 

We surface dwellers are a bunch of a-holes. It's true, just ask Namor. He's swimming through our rubbish and hating on humans. It's like a PSA reminding people that carelessly throwing a sneaker away really ruins one's day. Well, in all fairness Namor is already pissed about the annihilation of Atlantis that occurred in a previous issue so a spare tire is just the skin on poo poo pudding.

 

"Hey, quit bitching and pick that crap up!"

Let's travel back in time. Two years according to the writer. As we will come to find out, he likes adding arbitrary details into the plot. An alien life form that looks like space snot floats into a satellite. In the next panel a mysterious hand discovers a destruct button he seemed to misplace. It's clearly labeled but I suppose working around doohickeys takes it's toll and the boom key starts to resemble the on switch for the television. The satellite explodes and the galactic goo goes for a ride.

                                                                

"The brochure says Cacophonous Caverns is quite the vacation destinat...KABLOOIE"

The debris plummets into the ocean. Settling at the bottom of the sea the booger from beyond admires the aquatic life and decides to form a body. It takes the entirety of those aforementioned two years but it's successful in creating a humanoid form. This got me thinking. As far as we know it's never seen a person but has a hard on for fish. So why would it have our characteristics? I would've paid to been part of the design meeting. For the headset alone. Yes, this thing decided to use some wreckage as a fashion statement and it's friggin' glorious. It's actually referred to as a "wild party hat". That's my kind of shindig! Check it out: 

                                                                

"RISE and enjoy he splendors of AM/FM radio!"

Cut back to our sulking Sub Mariner pondering his disdain for humans on a dock. There, he's spotted by two dudes, one of whom happens to hate hybrid species and doesn't want any "fish men" hanging around. Our next PSA is about prejudice brought to you by Adolph Hitler. No joke. This is a final issue so I understand the impulse to say "fuck it" but quoting the most despised despot from the 20th century is more than a little odd. Anywhoos, the main goon named Bruce goes all Chuck Norris and sucker kicks Subby. Apparently this guy also can't stand buttons. 

  

"Pop collar kick! Heeyaa!!"

I'm going to refer to the mysterious membrane as Slime Thing now as touted on the cover considering he's rocking extremities and I've run out of funny phlegm references. Slimey has been watching the hostilities from the water like a creepy ex in your bushes waiting to witness tubby time. His first impression of our species won't be favorable as Namor socks Bruce in the kisser, killing him. Bruce's boy toy by the bay proceeds to tackle the Sub Mariner causing everyone to fall into the sea. Subby comes face to face with Slime Thing and the pal in polyester swims after Bruce's lifeless body. 

   

"The Sub Mariner has a psychiatrist for a narrator"

When encountering a monster in the murky depths your first instinct is to punch the hell out of it right? That's all fine and dandy for some superhero sluggery but I would be inclined to warn him that electronics and H2O are a bad combo. Sure it looks rad to have all that gear on your dome but toasters would make horrible galoshes y'know. 

          

     "Well, there goes the neighborhood...er...reef" 

Namor isn't the advice giving kinda guy like yours truly so they proceed to pound the ever livin' porpoise out of each other. We do get a nifty little tidbit during the throw down though. Did you know 62% of explosions in fictional orbits are caused by shrouded figures in the Motor City? Me neither, considering I just pulled that stat out of my ass. For no reason whatsoever we are told that was the detonators location. So be weary of the digits in Detroit, they are capable of dastardly deeds! 

                                                                

"Meanwhile, a hand in Vancouver picks lint from a navel"

Slime Thing emanates flashes from his eyes that blind Namor, yet he continues to fight. This show of will and determination is shocking to his gunky opponent who basically decides "Screw this, I'm out!". So while Namor has him in an awkward hug, he blows his own head off. Pop goes the weasel baby, ditching one of my favorite looks in the history of comics. Fear not, he didn't commit suicide but rather reverted to his original form and made course for wherever he originally came from. While traveling through the sky, it proves to be loving ooze, using it's power again, resurrecting Bruce from the dead. More Like a kid who got his tonsils out compared to someone who just received a new lease on life, Bruce thinks reading a wrestling magazine is the best way to celebrate. Way to go Duchey McDingle. 

                                                         

"The most unintentionally erotic page of 1974"

Namor is all bent out of shape now he's been robbed of his vision and realizes if only he tried to understand the creature​ instead of treating it like a soggy pinata he would still be able to wax his own eyebrows. Possibly feeling guilty, the alien flashes again as it passes through our solar system and restores the sight he had stolen. Lesson learned just in time for the end of the run.

 I loved this book. Seriously. I will buy every copy I come across in the wild. Is the story THAT good? Nope. The art is pretty iffy and if it wasn't for the inks by the legendary Vince Colletta, this may have been a tough read. It's just so zany, I can't help but dig the crap out of it. I also have a radical idea. Marvel should totally bring Slime Thing back. I firmly believe the concept and character is more interesting than Man-Thing. Yeah, I said it. Manny is so damn boring, take your stupid elephant trunk and dull continuity elsewhere. I would prefer Slime Thing with his crown of circuits any day of the week. 

 This was his only appearance. One and done. How nobody thought a shape shifting alien with untapped abilities and shitty fashion sense was usable all these years is beyond me. He's been collecting dust for 43 years. Couldn't he at least have been tossed in somewhere as cannon fodder or even a punchline? Shame really, I find him quite fun. If anyone at the House of Ideas reads this, call me. I have some great ideas for my new BFF. To my fellow prowlers of the back issue bins, reel in a copy of this for your collections. If for nothing else than the awesome cover that has zero to do with the actual plot of the book or if you want to get hooked on some classic Namor.

-David Schultz