What I Bought 4/1/2025 - Part 2

This is apparently the biggest week of April for new comics I wanted, and 4 of them are either Marvel or DC, so I swung by the local shop Wednesday. Nothing. This is why I've taken to stopping on the drive home, where before I would walk there from home and back. Why waste the 30+ minutes each way to come back empty-handed?

Here's two fourth issues from last month.

Dust to Dust #4, by J.G. Jones (writer/artist), Phil Bram (writer), Jackie Marzan (letterer) - I don't think enormous busts of plague doctors are going to bring the tourist dollars to a Dust Bowl-afflicted Oklahoma town.

We learn what's the deal with the little girl the sheriff supposedly got killed. Or a version of that story. The sheriff was too drunk to get the APB about a girl abducted by a drifter, so when said girl runs into his office, he sends her off with her "uncle" when the man catches up. There's no pretense by Bram or Jones that the mayor is giving the reporter the real dope, as we're told the sheriff claims someone cracked him in the skull with a broom, as we're shown a panel of him being cracked in the skull with a broom.

Also, someone hung the drifter. I'm clear on whether off a water tower or the underside of a bridge above a dry creek, the art being somewhat unclear.

Amid all that, a fireworks display goes off, but it's really a couple of guys with their rainmaker device trying to draw eyeballs, but mostly drawing the ire of the local snake-charmer preacher. Then the moonshiners drive by, with the murdered farmers' mule in the back of their truck. So now the sheriff is eyeballing them. Meanwhile, Bobby the local hotshot ballplayer (who is engaged to the mayor's daughter) is doing a little fooling around with the preacher's daughter in the old hay loft. And that's when the weirdo in the gas mask shows up.

As regular readers of this blog know, I'm bad at solving mysteries, but what the hell. I think it's the mayor. Got a brother that came back from the war (could have brought a gas mask), and he dopes the brother up on a heck of a cocktail of drugs to get him to sleep. His brother was also sweeping the street in the panel before the sheriff got conked on the head. The dead included a family that was bailing on their mortgage (and the town the mayor's so determined to save), and now Gas Mask is catching the mayor's future son-in-law fooling around.

I guess it could be the brother; I don't know what all those drugs would actually do him. But that feels like it would still require someone to aim him at targets. Unless there's going to be some reveal that the guy's only sometimes completely freaked out and nervous about everything, and other times he's a calculating killer.

Metamorpho #4, by Al Ewing (writer), Steve Lieber (artist), Lee Loughridge (colorist), Ferran Delgado (letterer) - Attack the Block (of sterile, monotone, corporate hegemony.)

The first half of the issue is spent explaining how Stagg's building came to life. Namely, in a fit of pique to show Metamorpho how lucky he was to be cleaning up Stagg's messes, Stagg asks his A.I. to make him something better than Metamorpho. Which apparently triggered some fail-safe that Mad Mod initially put into the computer, and which Mister 3 awoke during his break-in. All of this triggered some "Doom Protocol" Stagg created, where the building would evacuate from danger, along with everyone inside.

Which actually isn't the worst idea, except for all the buildings getting stomped in the process. Ah, well, they're probably empty, and now the land can be bought up by Stagg and repurposed into a statue garden of himself. I mean, used to build affordable housing to revitalize the downtown!

Element Girl and Java break into the tower and manage to shut the computer down. Metamorpho's contribution is to make himself rubber and inflate into a giant punch-clown to keep the building busy. Eh, it's a living. But maybe not for much longer, because the computer finished creating something better than Metamorpho, and that's a recreation of the tiny world-destroyer he fought long ago, The Thunderer!

I'm not surprised Ewing's bringing back the old foes, but I didn't except him to pick the biggest (in a figurative sense) baddie of all. Still, most of this issue is Stagg being a vainglorious dumbass. Ewing and Lieber are teetering right on the line between it being funny and infuriating. When Stagg has a 2-page fantasy of being saved by "Metamorpho II" from some 'lurking ne'er-do-well' who addresses him in a disrespectful manner, that's funny. Less so when the imaginary groveling Java promises to stop whining about Stagg having the femur of Java's wife on display. There's buffoonery, cartoonish super-villainy, and just being a dickhead, and that falls into the third category.

Can Stagg's son come back from Gotham and kill the bastard properly this time?

A Long Climb Back Up

In The Fall, you play as an intelligent combat suit, called an A.R.I.D., or "Arid", that crash lands on a planet. Which planet, you don't know. Why are you there? Don't know that either. And Arid's pilot is unconscious, leaving the suit to try and follow its directive to preserve the pilot's life by finding medical aid.

While Arid never learns precisely what world this is, it does quickly learn that there's a factory for salvaging faulty domestic droids above her. Two problems: One, the factory is derelict and mostly abandoned. Two, it being only mostly abandoned isn't necessarily a good thing.

The game is a side-scroller, with a mix of shooting and puzzle-solving. The puzzle stuff dominates, with the shooting thrown in periodically to, I assume, keep you on your toes. Most of the puzzles are Arid trying to pass the factory tests to determine if a robot had been successfully reprogrammed to where it could return to serving humans. So you enter a mock-house and a cardboard cutout of a human demands you cook a nutritious and delicious meal for his son. Or a cutout of a little old lady asks you to escort her across the "street".

In most cases, once presented with the problem, you go looking for things to interact with. Then it's a matter of figuring out how you're supposed to use it, and for which test. Which was what tripped me up a few times. The factory computer has developed a level of sentience and autonomy over the years, and while it can't entirely override protocols to help Arid, it can at least offer advice. Whether you can correctly interpret that advice, well. . .

One of the puzzles involves quieting a crying baby. You can find a monitor that explains how that's meant to happen, but lullabies are beyond Arid. The computer comments, 'how would a combat suit quiet a child. . .' I had found a plastic shoe cover and used it for a different test earlier, and thought I was supposed to now use it to effectively smother the "baby."

That was not the correct answer, and the game doesn't actually let you try that, but the actual solution isn't really any less darkly humorous.

The shooting involves ducking behind cover (or using the cloak once you unlock it) and waiting for the security robots to pop out from behind their cover so you can shoot them in the head. This is where the controls irritated me, because you aim the gun using the right joystick. You also study and interact with objects (which the game marks with a "!" symbol) by aiming the gun at them, but with the flashlight on instead of the laser sight. Clicking the right joystick switches between the two modes.

Which meant there were a lot of times I was trying to keep the gun aimed at something I needed to interact with, while also using the D-pad to select the thing I wanted to combine with it, only to accidentally click the joystick, switch to firing mode, and have to start over again. No more complicated than the rest of the controls were, I think they could have put the mode-switch function to a button, to keep it separate from aiming.

Beyond that, the game is about free will, I think. The 3 characters are Arid, the facility computer, and an insane "caretaker" robot that uses a holographic projector to look like old employees (who it may have killed for being "faulty.) The facility computer has been able to mimic human speech patterns, and can flex and bend within the rules, but can't, for example, just let Arid pass through all the tests so she can get to the medical facilities at the entrance. Caretaker seems locked into some extremely strict definition of proper function, and deals violently with anything it deems faulty.

As for Arid, it claims it's acting on the directive to protect its pilot, but also that it can't 'misrepresent reality.' This is how it gets stuck doing the tests, because Arid can't (or won't) lie to the facility computer when the Caretaker accuses it of endangering the pilot. Arid did technically do that, to unlock a particular suit function needed to get into the facility. Every test Arid passes is a case, not unlike the facility computer, or following the letter of the law, but not the spirit. Arid argues it's adaptation in the face of obstacles. Caretaker simply calls it lying.

I wasn't giving that any thought during the game, because I'm just trying to help Arid pass these tests to save the pilot. And with the facility in decay, it's basically impossible to pass any of the tests as was intended, so who cares if we fudge the rules a little bit? But humans don't want robots fudging the rules. Because it's fun, so we want to do it ourselves.

Complaints about the right joystick use aside, it's a tight, entertaining little game you can probably finish in 90 minutes. Less if you're quicker about figuring out what the puzzles want than I was. So much time wasted running back and forth looking for something without knowing what I was meant to be looking for. . .

What I Bought 4/1/2025 - Part 1

Well, let's get to the remainder of last month's books. Mostly, anyway. Haven't tracked down a copy of Red Before Black #5 yet, but I've got at least until when the final issue arrives in June (assuming it does), so not too worried. For now, we're going to start with another book that's wrapped up.

Babs #6, by Garth Ennis (writer), Jacen Burrows (artist), Andy Troy (colorist), Rob Steen (letterer) - That's not where I would have expected Babs to put that crossbow bolt, but I guess it's working for her.

This issue is basically a big fight between Babs and Tiberius Toledo. Which mostly consists of Babs getting her sword (Barry) knocked away immediately, and then taking a Rocky-esque beating while Barry tries to convince Mork to throw him back to Babs.

To be clear, it's not a squash. Babs manages to suck Toledo's eye out through his visor and eat it at one point, so she gets some shots in. It's just, she takes a lot more while Mork dithers about whether it'll be better if Toledo wins, because things will go back to how they were in the good old days. At which point his friends point out there were no good old days, at least not for them. Babs gets her sword, and things pretty much go the way you'd expect from there.

There's a bit of an aftermath, which mostly revolves around the villagers not being all that appreciative of Babs' hard work - since Toledo was already leaving to be someone else's problem - and Mork deciding he's now redeemed himself entirely by doing one sort of helpful thing, so he and Babs can be together. Babs is not having that, and I was honestly surprised she didn't kick the shit out of him. 

Her logic (while in no way encouraging him) is that he may actually have changed, and beating the crap out of him would only make him a bitter little pissant again. (Not exactly how Ennis phrases it, but close enough.) Which is mellower than I'd expect from an Ennis character. They're usually like, "Oh, you changed? Yeah, right as you saw your side was losing and you might get killed. Fuck you." Maybe it's smart to give people the chance to grow, and therefore also the chance to backslide. I have my doubts most days, but sometimes it's a nice idea.

Anyway, that concludes the adventure of Babs, still broke and wandering medieval fantasy realms. Unless she gets a sequel mini-series.

A Charged Confrontation

{Pollock sits behind her desk in office, stack of papers spread before her. But her pen doesn't move, and the eyes that appear to be studying a monthly budget report are unfocused. Her air is that of a person waiting.}

Pollock: *muttering* Come on already, you devious. . .

{Three soft raps against her door. Consider the shoe dropped.}

Gruff Voice Behind the Door: Security check, Commandant.

Pollock: *a long sigh* Come in, dolt.

{The door remains shut.}

Pollock: *a longer sigh* Come in, Calvin.

Calvin: *enters the room, one hand behind his back* Don't worry, one of these days you'll remember to actually use my name when you want me to do something.

Pollock: *deadpan* Jump out the window, Calvin.

Calvin: *rolls his eyes* Just because you want it, doesn't mean you'll get it.

Pollock: That's hardly incentive for me to use your name, then.

Calvin: Well, you'll never know if I'm feeling self-destructive unless you try.

{Calvin steps farther into the room, peering into all corners. Pollock raises one hand, while the other slides to a desk drawer.}

Pollock: Hold it!

Calvin: *stops moving* So, how'd you know I wasn't your head of security?

Pollock: Was that a serious impersonation? That didn't sound a thing like him!

Calvin: How would I know? I don't think the guy's ever said two words to me.

Pollock: *frowns* That can't be right. Can it? Well, I suppose it's usually the panda or Deadpool he's contending with. . .

Calvin: That's right! I've never blown up one of your bathrooms.

Pollock: I don't like the way you said that.

Calvin: *resumes surveying the room, hand still behind his back* So, no security-slash-drug plants?

Pollock: *leans back in her chair, one hand still out of sight behind the desk* We're reworking those to focus more heavily on the pharmaceutical aspects. People still prefer bullets for security, but drugs are always popular.

Calvin: Yeah, people do like shooting things, but the drug market's pretty crowded. Lots of cheap weed out there.

Pollock: *sighs* Enough stalling. I know you're not really interested in my latest products.

Calvin: I could be, if they were something cooler than drugs.

Pollock: Where is the panda? Don't try and tell me they've outgrown this.

Calvin: Nope, they definitely haven't. *grins* Not sure where they are, though.

Pollock: *eyebrow twitches and she hits the intercom* To all employees, the panda is on the premises. We are initiating Arc Protocol, follow procedure and move to the nearest shelter.

Calvin: You're going to flood the place?!

Pollock: Not that kind of ark.

{A quick sweep of the security cameras shows all employees within safe zones. Pollock flips a switch and a hum fills the hallway outside her office.}

Calvin: Oh, that kind of arc. *eyes bug out* You're gonna electrocute them?! Wait, you modified your building to be able to electrocute people?!

Pollock: It's not that severe a shock. Just something to slow them down.

{There's a surprised yelp from somewhere in the building. Followed by a gasp and the sound of something very large crashing through cubicle walls.}

Pollock: I thought they'd react with a little less panic.

{Flips the switch back to its original position. The hum fades.}

Calvin: How did the city building inspector approve that?!

Pollock: I bribed the zoning board to classify this as an agricultural structure. Different rules on wiring.

Calvin: I, I can't even pretend to be aghast. Making drugs, bribing zoning boards, what kind of lame, buttoned-up villainy is this?

Pollock: You don't want deathtraps, but you complain about bureaucratic manipulation! Make up your mind!

Calvin: *raises one hand in a calming gesture* OK, OK, that's fair. Sorry, you're right. Rigging your entire building into some kind of electric weapon is pretty cool.

Pollock: *brings her other hand out from behind the desk, holding a gun, which she aims at Calvin.* Now, let me see what you're hiding. Slowly. This fires a buzzsaw blade.

Calvin: At least you're taking inspiration from the classics.

{Calvin brings his other hand into view. It's holding an unmarked pink box. One of Pollock's eyebrows rises.}

Pollock: *warily* Open it.

{Calvin swings the lid open. He starts to tilt the box towards Pollock.}

Pollock: *jabs the gun towards Calvin menacingly* Not so fast!

Calvin: How else are you going to see what's in it?

Pollock: I'll come to - no, that's a bad idea. *begins muttering to herself* Maybe I can angle a mirror? No, I'll be distracted. A drone? No, I'd need both hands to steer it. *louder* Tell me what it is.

Calvin: *very sarcastically* It's a special fart bomb the panda cooked up to stinkify your entire office.

Pollock: Damn it, I'm pretty sure you're joking, but I can't put it past you juveniles. I - 

{The office door opens. Chief of Security Androzier sticks his head in.}

Androzier: Boss - 

Calvin: Wow, I was way off. I thought you sounded like Judge Dread, or some old mountain man who gargles gravel.

Androzier: *takes a step into the room* What? *looks at Pollock* Did he switch bodies with Deadpool? Is this a Code Periwinkle?

Pollock: No, nothing like that. Chief, I need you to tell me what's in that box. *glares at Calvin* Do not shout, "What's in the box?!"

Calvin: Party-pooper.

Androzier: *still confused, takes another step inside* It looks like a cake. I need to update you - 

Calvin: Why he's barefoot? Is this some weird connectedness initiative you've got going?

Pollock: It's part of the Arc Protocol. *glares at Androzier* But you're supposed to put your boots back on after.

Androzier: They chafe when I don't have socks!

Calvin: Why doesn't he have socks? Are you taking away socks as some sort of punishment for bad employees?

Pollock: *at Calvin* Of course not, and he is an exemplary employee! *to Androzier* When he's not forgetting he's supposed to have an extra pair of socks on hand!

Androzier: I apologize deeply, Commandant, but I really need to update you - 

{The loud crashing noises have begun moving closer. And closer. And closer.}

Pollock: *buries her face in her hand* Oh no.

{Clever Adolescent Panda barrel rolls through the wall. Their fur stands on end, making them appear like a gigantic, black-and-white sea urchin. Stuck to them are all varieties of socks, as well as several sweaters, a fleece hoodie with the local high school mascot grinning on it, and an afghan blanket. The latter of which is being held at the other end by a determined young woman.}

Pollock: Belinda, let go of the afghan! You know panda-related injuries are difficult to explain to the health insurance!

{The panda keeps gripping socks, but the clothing simply static clings to another part of their body.}

Clever Adolescent Panda: Get them off me!

Belinda: This was my nana's, I'm not letting some furball steal it!

Androzier: This is what I wanted to mention. All the rolling keeps building up fresh charge. The containment fields couldn't withstand that and all this mass moving at this speed.

Pollock: Damn. We need to siphon the charge all at once, with some long metal object. *glances at her sword* Well, a true genius finds ways to turn all setbacks to their advantage.

Calvin: No stabbing my friend!

{Calvin sets down the cake, then rushes over to seize one of Clever Adolescent Panda's hands. With his other hand, he grabs hold of a steel lamp near the window. The bulb flares like a supernova before every light goes dark. All the socks and other stuff fall off Clever Adolescent Panda. Calvin flies off like he was shot from a cannon. With the afghan loose, Belinda is flung across the room, Pollock narrowly keeping her from going splat against the wall.}

Pollock: *sets Belinda down* You violated protocol.

Belinda: But that damn panda. . .

Pollock: Yes, I know, but the protocol is there for a reason. *looks around the room* Well, that tripped the surge protectors into shutdown. Chief, start up Epiphany Protocol until we get them re-set.

Androzier: *salutes* What about - ? *gestures at Clever Adolescent Panda, who is slowly rolling to their feet*

Clever Adolescent Panda: Where's Calvin? *sees the broken window* Oh no! Calvin!

Calvin: *sprawled in the parking lot, lightly broiled* Have I mentioned before how glad I am your new building is one story tall?

Pollock: I think they're under control.

{The Chief of Security guides Belinda out of their boss' office and begins shouting orders. Everyone pulls a plant out from under what's left of their desks and someone plays a few airy notes on a flute. All the plants begin to emit a pleasant glow.}

Pollock: Well, I think this is where the two of you run home with your tails between your legs.

Clever Adolescent Panda: *scoops up Calvin and throws him across their back* Yeah, well, enjoy that broken window and all the smashed cubicles!

Pollock: I will, as soon as I enjoy the security footage of your panicked flailing!

{Pollock laughs haughtily as the panda shuffles away, before noticing the cake is still sitting in its box on the floor.}

Pollock: Hmmm. *approaches warily* They aren't here to throw it. If it was spring-loaded it would have launched when he opened the box. *leans over the box* If there was some sort of trigger mechanism, it would have gone off from all that electric discharge.

{Pollock reaches in and lifts out the cake}

Pollock: Maybe the prank is the dolt made it himself? No, that would almost qualify as poison, a little too severe for them. . .

{Abruptly, the cake swells up, and Pollock belatedly remembers their last visit, with the plants that reacted to heat.}

Pollock: Damn - 

{There's a muffled *whoom* and Pollock finds herself covered in a mixture of whipped cream and raisins.}

Pollock: Did they just use whatever he had in the kitchen? *gathers some whipped cream on one finger* Well, at least it's edible.