I was pouring myself a bowl of Apple Cinnamon Cheerios this morning at the kitchen table and I found myself wondering what I should focus the next All Nerd Review article on. The pressures of keeping to a weekly schedule were starting to interfere with my everyday obligations. I could not eat a delicious sandwich without some small and instinctual part of me thinking 'Maybe I should be reviewing this. The mayo, I regret to say, is disappointing, and this salami has more than the usual amount of snout and porcupine quills in it!'.
Should I make a general DC Direct feature, with the recent Rogues Gallery and Crisis on Infinite Earths figures? Perhaps we're due for another 'WTF Japan?' article, since I DID have an influx of neat Asian things, not the least of which have the word 'bondage' in their names. The Nintendo DS was a mighty appealing prospect and a nice departure from the traditional action figure route, and I'd not done any video games in a while. Still, I've been itching to do something anecdotal for a while now. You know, break out those freeform dancin' shoes and skirt the intangible and non-commercial for a spell. It was at this point that I found my niece's newest comic, all neatly stapled together, on the kitchen table. I knew instantly that it would become the very article that I'd been searching for.
Children under five years of age are very much like tofu. They're these blank little canvases that have absorbed and taken on the character of the flavors which surround them. And they make a mighty fine soup. Because my niece has spent her formative years around myself, she's taken on a lot of my own likes and dislikes. While the truly foreign idea that Bratz and Scooby Doo are the beginning and end of the universe cannot be shaken from her, no matter how hard I shake, I'd like to think that I've had more than a passing hand regarding her deep interest in insects, as well as her nigh-encyclopedic knowledge of superheroes and villains. Maybe it was the trading cards that she's collected from me over the years, or maybe it's the impressive box of Heroclix that she's accumulated from my extra pieces, but she can name more female heroes and villains than you. Lately, she's been gathering images from around her and making copies of what she sees, from a beautifully awkward reproduction of the cover of Legally Blonde to a fair representation of the first few pages of Elfquest. She cannot be stopped. And who are we to stop her? Her observational skills are being amplified everyday, and her understanding of writing has greatly improved. Plus, it's a fine distraction from telling the boys at school that her sunscreen is actually candy and that they should try some.
For the past few weeks, we've been hitting the local dollar store for their exceptionally rewarding packs of bargain comics. Man-Thing #19, Avengers, and of course, the occasional derelict copy of Rai and the Future Force, the latter of which is always good for... hell, nothing. Good for nothing. I was going to say 'lining birdcages' or 'packing material', but why ruin a perfectly good bird?
Here I present to you, in its entirely, Raven's bestest comic EVER. The 7-page world premiere. You saw it here first.
We begin with the cover page, which spells out our players for this evening. She's decided to not be constrained by such pedestrian concerns as which heroes belong in which universe. After all, Spider-Man and Batman DID fight crime together in a certain crossover classic, and I have to say that as with most crossovers, Raven's makes a lot more sense. Continuity be damned! Post-Crisis universe? That, my friends, can kiss Spider-Man's scribbled ass. Here's where the money is - Batman, Spider-Man and Poison Ivy. A Poison Ivy, might I add, that has full lips, eyelashes, and her name dotted with hearts.
What, pray tell, do these three diverse characters have in store?
Page one and Ivy already makes her move! Her nefarious intent is made clear by her angry v-brows and highly visible underwear. She announces her dastardly plot to end the life of Batman once and for all! Her proclamation, alas, is clearly in the secret language of the dandelion and cannot be understood by us non-photosynthesizing meatbags. Once again, we're forced to notice the eyebrows. So expressive, so vocal. So pointy. If women did not have eyebrows, how would we even know how they felt? I ask you.... how? Scientists have observed that, similar to the complex communicative dances of bees, women will iron your shirts in intricate patterns, and in this way communicate their thoughts. Will these messages ever be clear to the common man? Possibly, but until then, watch the eyebrows!
On page two, Batman has other plans for Ivy, and he's not going to let her intoxicating pheromones get in his way THIS time. One can see the fundamental differences between the male and female figures in this image. Male eyebrows are the visual opposite of those of the female - forming an inverted 'v' over the eye. If this is the only biological difference that she's observed between men and women, we're doing pretty good.
Oh, but it's not. What's THIS? I mean... holy jesus, WHAT IS THIS? Batman is not alone in his struggle! Your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man shows up to assist Batman in putting Ivy in her place! Which is reclining and topless, and I have to say, Batman isn't looking so mean anymore. Perhaps they've just knocked the clothes off of her in a fierce battle. And subsequently knocked her breasts upside down. Here they stand, victorious... or perhaps their real conquest is yet to come.
One can only guess. And begin to look into therapy.
Still disrobed and terminally perky, Ivy comes to and swears revenge for whatever the hell just happened. I don't want to know. She confers with her one-eyed robot head about the proper course of action. Or maybe she's going into her bathroom, where she also keeps her warheads, to wash up. Perhaps she refers to a map of the Batcave, plotting to take her revenge on Batman's home turf, creating a verdant jungle of flesh-eating plants to rend him in twain. Maybe, as scientists have discovered, she's simply taking comfort in a large bag of Oreos, which have been proven to chemically elevate the 'mood' of the female temporarily, often creating self-loathing later.
Since she was outnumbered during the first battle, Ivy is totally going to return with sexy reinforcements. She's put her top back on, she's got her backup, she's got her faintly piggish nose, and she's storming back into the climactic battle! REVENGE IN STEREO!
No! NO! REVENGE, dammit! This isn't right on thirteen different strata of not-rightness! One does not claim vengeance by having an underwater superhero makeout party! I guess that this is a happy ending... of sorts. At least it's the kind of ending that might someday need to be defended by the CBLDF should it be sold to a minor. Who among us can argue when everyone scores? Besides, you know, the abstinent and/or asexual. They argue about everything, the contentious bastards.
Either way, our story concludes on this wildly positive note, and if Raven could write, I think that it would sound something like "aw, I'm sorry, baby, c'mon home to the Batman. It'll never happen again," followed by much makeup affections and slobbery onomatopoeias, only to be repeated next week when they once again have a bit too much to imbibe and start fighting over the color of the drapes.
Raven : future comic artist. Visionary. Irrepressible imp.