I CAN'T

BUT I MUST

There’s a little trick to superhero story writing, especially sad sack guys like Spider-Man, and I’m going to share it here:

“I CAN’T … BUT I MUST!”

Simple, right? It sums up all sorts of situations where the hero has to make a choice, and they’re driven to do the right thing no matter what the cost. Spidey needs to save Kingpin even though it’ll mean Kingpin will continue to make Daredevil’s life a living hell, that sort of thing.

Anyway, I mention this because of PROMOTION, my eternal dilemma.

I CAN’T SHARE ARTICLES THAT SPOIL A FULL QUARTER OF THE BOOK COMING OUT … BUT I MUST IN ORDER TO DRAW ATTENTION TO THE BOOK EVEN IF THAT BOOK IS CALLED ‘BATMAN’ AND WILL PROBABLY DO FINE WITHOUT ME TELLING PEOPLE ABOUT ‘BATMAN’

All this to say that artist extraordinaire Mike Hawthorne gave a great interview to The Beat about the latest Batman costume design, but it has SIX PAGES of art from the 22 page main story, spoiling a couple of fun, big reveals that truly enhance the reading experience if you don’t see them ahead of time.

So! Here is the article! I highly, highly recommend that you read the issue first. You can’t hold off, but you must.

(Incidentally, I find that phrase always works well in the boudoir wink wink)

Jorge did the cover to BATMAN 133 and it’s on sale TODAY!!!

In other news, Kagan is starting in on the final issue of KAPTARA VOL. 2. It’s always hard saying goodbye to characters you love, and also your fellow co-creator (I told Kagan that when the series ends, so does our friendship, just to give it all some extra emotion). I was strolling down memory lane as I was writing the issue, and forgot how much I enjoyed writing part of Dartor’s memoir. So here, for you, is that excerpt, also available in the first KAPTARA collection:

I had never intended to go to The City of Lunges, but my best friend, Johnny Fists, refused to believe I was dating a girl there. But the fair maiden Mel-Lissa was no imaginary woman-friend! Far from it! She was as real as the many hickeys which adorned my princely neck like bruise jewelry! Johnny Fists laughed at my proof of good times, noting that the dark marks looked like something my roommate, Trunk Hunk, could deliver with ease.

“No one calls Prince Dartor a liar!” I punched Johnny Fists in the throat. But, as the old adage goes, “never start a fist fight with a man who has ‘fist’ in his name.” Johnny clocked me but good in my attractive nose, breaking it once again. After our scuffle it was agreed: I would need definitive proof of Mel-Lissa’s existence and interest in me.

She had visited me in Endom a week prior, but had made no plans to return soon, citing the fact that she had “a lot on the go” and was “going through some stuff.” Perhaps a surprise visit from the “Prince of Makeouts” was just the thing to pick her spirits up! Ha ha!

I left the next day, riding Samuel, my trusty cat-tank, and accompanied by a good acquaintance, Photo Bomb, who could capture proof of Mel-Lissa and I making love using his built-in torso camera. Could I have simply taken a regular camera with me on my quest? Of course, but friendship on a long journey is important and I enjoy people watching me make love. I am a giver!

Samuel caught a cold on day two so I had to put him down on the side of the road. Photo Bomb left a note on his bloated body apologizing for us not burying him, but that we were late for a grand fucking. I dare you to find a single person alive who would not understand such a note!

Photo Bomb was a husky man-camera, so I rode him for most of the journey after that. At least until he started sniffling. He was a good man and will be missed, but I was not about to give a cold to Mel-Lissa on top of what she surely acquired on our first evening of love-making.

So, alone, I strolled down Bloodletting Trail, my mind reeling from thoughts of all the wonderful sex I was to have in three days time. Oh, Mel-Lissa! With your correct number of teeth and interesting body! Soon she would be mine yet again!

As I approached the City of Lunges several days later, a man stood on the trail, defiantly in the centre. He was a burly, middle-aged sort with a receding hairline and a very droopy face. He was almost nude, save for much gold jewelry and a fur-covered girdle and manties (man panties). Also, he was covered in blood.

“Hello!” I barked, my one hand on my trusty blowdart, the other waving like a child to set him at ease. The man held his sword away from him like a cock presented to a loved one on Freedom Day.

“WHO GOES THERE?” he barked back.

I barked once again. “I am Dartor, Prince of Endom! And I have come to make love to Mel-Lissa, Music Promoter from The City of Lunges! Step aside or feel the sting of my nasty darts!” The road gentleman’s muscles tensed and he declaratively barked back.

“I AM RED CARL, WARRIOR OF THE LOST LANDS. AND WHOSOEVER BEATS ME IN BATTLE GETS TO BED ME.”

Red Carl was not my type, so this unusual offer did not appeal to me, but getting past him and on to Mel-Lissa did. “I do not wish to bed you, Red Carl! But I really need to get past you to a very important appointment! Is there any way of—“

Red Carl swung his sword, just narrowly missing my powerful chest. I stumbled back and quickly put blowdart to lips. I blew a tight, short burst of air and a level seven intoxication dart flew toward my new nemesis. But Red Carl was faster than he appeared, knocking the dart to the ground with his blade. His next swing caught my blowdart itself, cutting it in two and rendering it useless. All I had now was my greatest weapon of all: my body.

As Red Carl swung his blade again, I dove to the ground, avoiding its trajectory. Once low, I punched the fiend’s left knee quite hard and he tumbled to the ground in agony. I took that moment to leap atop him, knocking his sword from his grasp. He struggled mightily, but a classic “Dartor-elbow-to-the-face” showed him he was defeated. He looked up at me with fury and sadness.

“You have defeated me. I am yours.” Red Carl gestured with his head down to his very average body, dotted with sporadic bits of hair. Again, he was not my type, but I admired how he swung his blade, so I kissed him. He eagerly returned my affection and we fucked in the road for hours. Later, as we lay off to the side of that dusty road to finally let the backed-up carriages through, I managed to get him to admit that he does this every day because it is the only way he knows how to explore this side of himself while still honouring his marriage to a lovely office administrator that he’d been with since high school.

“I made up this code, which she respects, even though it confuses her. I suppose one day I will just have to talk to her honestly about an open marriage.” He grew sad, which, frankly, is a huge turn-off for me, so I left. Did I continue on to meet Mel-Lissa and her expected sex?

Aye, I did.

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I’m going to miss Dartor.