What I Bought 3/21/2026

I'd like to congratulate Afroman for beating the bullshit defamation charges filed against him by all those cops. If they didn't want to be immortalized in a bunch of music videos mocking them for looking for "kidnapping victims" in the pockets of a man's coat, maybe they shouldn't have done it in the first place. Also, "Lemon Pound Cake" made me laugh so hard the back of my skull hurt.

D'Orc #1, by Brett Bean (writer/artist), Jean-Francois Beaulieu (color artist), Nate Piekos (letterer) - The remains of another harvest festival gone awry.

So we got a medieval fantasy land split between light and dark, which as the map helpfully included on the inside cover shows are basically reversed mirrors. The land of light has an island on the northwest coast called "Heaven's Spleen," the dark lands have an island in the southeast shaped very similarly called "The Goblin's Teet." I thought it was spelled, "teat", but maybe the point is goblins are bad spellers?

The stretch of land in-between is called The Scar, and the two sides fight there constantly, making it a no man's land inhabited only by the title character. Whose name is not actually "D'orc", but we never learn what he's called, because as soon as he makes the mistake of explaining his parentage to two parties, but sides try to destroy him. Which suits his bloodthirsty talking shield just fine, but D'orc (sorry, kid) really just wanted some food.

So it's off to a tavern, where he gets involved in another brawl, this time trying to defend a poor chicken waiter from two fighters from each side. In the process, he loses control, does a Captain America with his shield and - decapitates the chicken. Whoops. The actual decapitation is off-panel, but we see the aftermath, although Bean's still is not going for realism, so it's not graphic or particularly horrifying. It's not even graphic in the way, say, Skottie Young's art can be.

Which is fine, the chicken's only sort of dead. Why the shield having a soul trapped inside it makes it a "death shield", and this allows the chicken's headless body to move while its spirit floats nearby? Not sure. I guess because Bean says so. He really wanted the visual of a headless chicken running around? I suspect that'll be D'orc's situation soon enough.

The gist seems to be, D'orc would just like to live his life, staying out of the either/or battles of the two sides. Or better yet, the two sides could stop being so bent on destroying each other and stop fighting. But everybody hates a centrist, so both sides are going to kill him. And he's likely going to get increasingly frustrated, or desperate, and destroy both sides just to survive. Maybe he'll meet someone that will ask his real name along the way?

Sunday Splash Page #419

"Feed Trough," in Prez (2015) #3, by Mark Russell (writer), Ben Caldwell (penciler), Mark Morales (inker), Jeremy Lawson (colorist), Travis Lanham (letterer)

The original Prez, a DC series about the United States' first teenage president, came out in 1973. Created by Captain America co-creater Joe Simon, it ran 4 issues, and from what I can tell, was about as accurate a representation of teens in the U.S. as you would expect from someone who had been writing comics for over 30 years by that point. Which is to say, not very. Ed Brubaker and Eric Shanower did a one-shot in the mid-90s under the Vertigo imprint, about Prez Rickard supposedly emerging during the '96 election, after two decades off the radar.

Then, in 2015, as part of one of DC's various post-New 52 branding exercises (DC You?), we got Prez, by Mark Russell and Ben Caldwell. Rather than set it in the present day, Russell sets the series in 2036, where Beth Ross is a 19-year-old working at a Li'l Doggies House of Corndogs in Oregon, and trying raise money to treat her father for some initially unknown illness, which turns out to be the deadly cat flu.

Beth goes viral when she accidentally dunks her pony tail in the deep fryer while filming a training video about proper grill cleaning. This doesn't help her raise the $4 million dollars her dad needs for nanotech treatment but, in a world where people can vote through social media, Beth wins Ohio in the 2036 Presidential election after a popular online personality touts her. To be clear, Beth is too busy trying to pay bills and visit her dad to ever run. The guy just gets the video extra exposure, and his followers decide to vote for this person they've heard of, rather than either of the lame-ass, middle-aged white men the two major parties are running.

The least believable part is that the other candidates are only middle-aged, rather than octogenarians.

As a result of Beth's win, no candidate gets enough electoral votes, so it goes to the House of Representatives, where each state gets one vote. This sets off a furious, hilarious and deeply pathetic scramble by each candidate to promise various spending projects and perks in return for a state's support. One side offers Ohio NASA. Texas' rep in turn demands 2 NASAs, plus a football stadium. In an attempt at extortion, states start voting for Beth, without keeping track of how many of them are doing so, and she gets elected. The system works - you over like a speed bag.

Beth isn't even sworn in until issue 3 (although it seems like Russell intended this to go longer than six issues), and spends most of issue 4 trying to pick a Cabinet (including a Neil Degrasse Tyson stand-in) and staff. Prez Rickard shows up as an aged, outcast Senator, offering to be her VP on the grounds the major powers won't try to kill her if they risk him becoming President as a result. Which doesn't stop random, gun-toting guys in hunting vests and American flag hats from taking their shot, literally.

I would give Russell credit for predicting the January 2020 insurrection, but white Americans waving guns around like fucking idiots whenever they feel the slightest bit aggrieved is, in the words of Carl from Aqua Teen Hunger Force, not a prediction Meat-man, it's a fact of life. Likewise, the U.S. having armed sentry robots stationed around the world that are controlled by guys in beanbag chairs treating it as Call of Duty, getting yelled at by their boss for getting crumbs on the keyboard, feels less like satire or a prediction, than simply reality.

Morales has a loose enough style to pull off the exaggeration (or attempted exaggeration) of the story. Panels are filled with what I think are holographic pop-ups that, for example, offer a patient in the hospital more info about cat flu, if they pay a subscription fee, of course. The major antagonists are various CEOs, faces always hidden by glowing cartoon logos. Like Pharmaduke, or "Jack Smiles", who is always a big gold smiley face as he proclaims they run things, or he parachutes in to tell his employees the product they sell is time, because they make sure the consumer doesn't have to wait as long for stuff they could buy any number of other places. Or the news debate program - hosted by the blonde with the ludicrous hair in the upper left, or another one just like her - which has updated results on who the viewers think is winning, with the losers' face being covered by the flag as the outro music starts.

There's also a subplot about a self-aware killbot - developed in the notion it will save money if they can fire all those guys in the beanbag chairs - that doesn't like the things it has done, changes its name to Tina, and finds religion. Morales makes Tina appear both large enough to be menacing, but with an expressive digital face and body language.

Russell writes Beth as sarcastic, yet idealistic. Bright, but unfamiliar with how things are typically done in politics, which Russell (via Rickard), paints as a positive. Beth owes no favors for getting this far, so she doesn't have to give a Cabinet post to some incompetent dickhead because he campaigned for her.  Some of the outcomes are silly in the optimism, not so much Beth shutting down all the armed sentries and visiting other countries to apologize, but that many of the countries (though not Iran) accept the apology without say, demanding reparations.

Also, her end run around the CEOs and their pocket Senators is. . .to rely on someone even richer to help out? A guy who built a powerful computer, that has written every conceivable story in every language (we're shown the Oscars at one point, and he's credited as writer for 4 of the five nominated films.) Counting on a benevolent trillionaire doesn't seem any likelier to produce a positive outcome than relying on billionaires has. Maybe that was going to come back to bite Beth subsequently, but the book never got a second arc.

Saturday Splash Page #221

"Dark Light," in The Ray (vol. 2) #3, by Christopher Priest (writer), Howard Porter (penciler), Robert Jones (inker), Pat Garrahy (colorist), Ken Bruzenak (letterer)

About 2 years after his mini-series ended, and after he'd gotten some play in that era's Justice League titles, The Ray got an ongoing series. It lasted 28 issues, counting the Zero Hour tie-in #0, Christopher Priest the writer, Howard Porter the penciler for most of the first half of the series, Jason Armstrong illustrating most of the second half.

Jack C. Harris' mini-series was about moving beyond adolescence, growing and coming into your own, with Ray accepting his powers and symbolically shutting the door on the home where he'd spent his entire life up to that point. Priest carries that forward, but with more emphasis on the reality of being a "grown-up" versus the illusion.

Ray's an adult now! He gets to live in his own place! Earn his own money! Date the girl that was his childhood best friend! Hang out with his birth father! Be a superhero!

Except it's not such a great time. The only apartment he can get has no fridge, and comes with an ugly industrial sculpture bolted to the floor. He works at a fast food chicken restaurant. He has almost no furniture, because he spent his money on a souped-up laptop and a cardboard standee of Superman. Jenny, who was not only accepting, but encouraging of Ray embracing his powers, no longer seems to have time for him. Eventually there's a young woman he meets first in the future, then the present, then her future self travels back to his present to avert a bad future. There may have been at least one other brief romantic interest, but if so, the character made zero impact.

Happy Terrill turns out to be not just a congenital liar, as he's still deceiving Ray and Ray's mother - Ray thinks she died in childbirth, she thinks Ray was stillborn - but a domineering, frankly, abusive prick. When he thinks Ray isn't taking his powers seriously, Happy somehow makes Ray think he stole his powers, then dumps him in Chernobyl. Later, when Ray seems to have adjusted to not having powers, Happy disguises himself as a robber and jams a shotgun in Ray's face to terrorize him. It's like Happy took all his parenting techniques from Silver Age Superman.

I was entirely OK when it appeared Happy was killed by Death Masque, the game program Ray designed as a training tool, which subsequently slipped his control and eventually conquered a country. Unfortunately, Priest revealed Happy wasn't dead near the end of the series, which might have been with some notion of reconciliation, as part of a larger thing Priest was doing about family, but I wasn't really having it. If there was some chance Happy could fix all his mistakes, maybe, but he hadn't demonstrated that level of competence in anything, so everyone's really just better off if he's dead.

Ray's superheroing doesn't go so great either. Obviously the issues with Death Masque, which hang over the book throughout. Especially when one of the Justice League squads - I don't know which, that Triumph character was leading it, straight to the dollar bin I assume -  refuses to help, so Ray turns to Vandal Savage for some reason I'm sure was addressed in another book. Priest tried to acknowledge developments in Justice League comics that might impact Ray, but as I didn't buy those comics or care about them, it just ends up being confusing. Ray was gone for months because of what? Long-distance space travel time dilation? Huh?

His team-up with Superboy almost results in Ray killing Superboy, then almost dying against Brimstone because Ray exhausted all his power. Black Canary takes advantage of his school boy crush to get him to help her chase a crook through a dimensional doorway to another world, which later results in Ray having to fight Lobo, then time-traveling and messing up certain details of his father's life. The better half of Dr. Polaris contacts Ray to warn him about the return of the Light Entity, but when Ray can't make heads or trails of the warning, and neither can anyone else, he busts out Emerson. Which backfires when Polaris retakes control. Neron approaches Ray, initially as a woman, and after revealing his true form, Ray's more freaked out he kissed a guy than that the devil is bargaining for his soul.

Porter's work in less exaggerated than Quesada's. He tones down Ray's frankly ridiculous hair and Jenny stops looking like her skirts and suits are going to tear apart if she breaths too deeply. But he and Garrahy don't have the same knack (interest?) in playing with contrast in how they depict Ray's powers or appearance. He still looks similar when powered up, but there's less flair to it, less exaggeration for effect. Ray's not suddenly turning into a little bowl-cut version of himself while interacting with the Light Entity.

Though Priest doesn't entirely forgo embarrassing Ray for comedy's sake. Ray has to kick Lobo out of a space station bar to get Canary medical treatment, and on his initial approach, Lobo simply tears the top off Ray's helmet, taps his cigar ashes on Ray's head, then slams the helmet closed again. Ray gets attacked by Happy while still a little power-drunk from contact with the Entity, and after getting knocked into a clothing shop, emerges wearing a sun hat and a body-length green dress with polka dots. Porter's art has the pacing and body language to sell those moments, despite the times where you can feel his work veering into that '90 Image style of too much cross-hatching or characters gritting an impossible number of teeth.

It's strange, a big part of the series revolves around family. Ray's strained relationship with Happy, especially when he thinks Happy's dead. Ray trying to covertly kindle a relationship (not romantic!) with his mother, by pretending he wants to earn money mowing her lawn. (His mother assumes he's the result of some affair Happy had.) Death Masque is like a jealous child, especially once Vandal Savage starts sniffing around. It turns out Ray has a brother who is both older and younger than him, who comes into play in the last-third of the series. Ray's cousin Dean pops up occasionally, dealing out sage "wisdom."

I'm not sure what the goal is, given Priest also seems to be making the point, as an adult, Ray has to solve his own problems. Ray ultimately stops Death Masque, and settles down the Light Entity. He has to protect his mother and his younger/older sibling. He has to find their dad. He has to recognize Vandal Savage is a scumbag who was never going to help Ray, but instead groom Ray into something Savage could use. That fits with the notion of adulthood that, at a certain point, you have to take ownership of your life, but as far as the "family" aspect, I'm less sure. It's caring about his family that makes Ray stop whining about not being able to beat Death Masque, and just knuckle down and do it to save their lives?

What I Bought 3/18/2026

I did, in fact find a lot of books at the sale last week. Reviews of those start next week! Plus three movies, which I won't get around to reviewing for months yet. Still have all the movies I got at Christmas, plus Pluto's actually let me back in to a limited extent without an account, so I'm trying to finish off the films I had on my watch list before they change their minds. Plus I'll visit my dad sometime in the next month so, that'll be more old movies to review.

Marc Spector: Moon Knight #2, by Jed MacKay (writer), Devmalya Pramanik (artist), Rachelle Rosenberg (color artist), Cory Petit (letterer) - Just another, ordinary, "getting the shit kicked out of him," day for Moon Knight.

Moon Knight and Zodiac are tearing through the Agence Byzantine guys, while Mr. Fear and Mr. Smith look on. Pramanik seems to be having a lot of fun with the layouts. One page that all the panels are of Moon Knight tearins through guys, the panels contained with the outline of his arm pulping a guy's face, with Rosenberg using bright red for the outline of the victim and the borders.

Fear's ready to get out of there, but Smith simply asks him to hand over a box with a set of sharpened dentures and starts telling a story of his childhood. And the reveal is, it's Bushman. You know, the guy whose face Marc cut off 20 years ago (our time.) I was under the impression he was dead but not no more he ain't.

Meanwhile, Marc's gone from pulping idiots in red outfits to trying to strangle Zodiac. Zodiac runs, still spouting nonsense about being determined to make Moon Knight all he can be. Then Bushman steps in, and before he can fight Moon Knight, Zodiac's found the control room, and pumps the room full of fear gas, encouraging Moon Knight to cut Bushman's face off - again. Well, that'd be rather trite, wouldn't it? Oh you fixed your face, I'll trash it again the same way. A little too Punisher and Jigsaw, innit it?

Actually, I'd wonder why Zodiac doesn't target Punisher, but I assume Frank's too straightforward and clinical in his killing for Zodiac to take an interest in him. Frank just shoots them or blows them up and goes on to the next. To the extent there's artistry, as Zodiac might define it, it lies in the sheer relentless attrition the Punisher inflicts.

Or Zodiac's really a punk that knows Frank would just blow his head off at first sight.

Hell Cell Motel

There are no good answers to what was going on in this room. 

Oxide Room 104 puts you in the role of Matt, who returns to a motel after some sort of crime, only to get ambushed by a weirdo and wake up naked in a tub. The bathroom door is locked, his name scrawled on it. 

So you have to find your clothes, and figure out how to unlock the door. Search the cabinet over the sink. Search the dresser. Search the toilet. Once you find your way out, you learn the door out of the room is locked. So are the windows (as far as I can tell, you don't need to bother with the windows. While the game will always let you check them, they never open.) The key is on a plate, a giant centipede coiled around it.

If you make it out of the room, you find yourself in the inner courtyard of the motel. And there's a strange woman whose face is shrouded by her ink-black hair! And she vanished, in her place some creature with a human's lower body, but the upper body is just a set of jaws.

At this point, what has been a sort of horror puzzle game, with you searching your (creepy) surroundings for items you need to escape the room, becomes a quick-time event, as you hit buttons when prompted to help Matt avoid other monsters. You make it to another room, and the item hunt/puzzle aspect resumes. That's what dominates the game. The quick-time stuff is sporadic, saved for when, I guess, the game designers decided they needed to shake you up a bit.

If you die, from blood loss or poisoning or stupidity - like firing a gun at a monster in a room filled with gas, whoops - you wake up shackled in a different tub, Orange Jumpsuit standing over you. He tells you what a useless idiot you are - in a profane and British voice that nonetheless has a breathy aspect that reminds me of the Abominable Snowman character from Looney Tunes - and cuts off one of your limbs with a saw. Then you wake up again in the tub where you started, all limbs present and accounted for, and start your attempt to escape from square 1.

You get up to 3 "deaths" before he decides you're not worth the hassle. Four if you find a picture of the girl, which somehow acts as an extra life. My impression is the subsequent attempts will take a different route, in terms of which rooms you visit and search. The puzzles may be simpler, but there are a lot more monsters, including roaming the courtyard. At least the game doesn't skimp on bullets for your handgun.

I don't entirely understand what's going on. Something about Orange Jumpsuit using Mysterious Girl's mind as sort of a computer in a bio-engineering experiment. A way to rifle through people's thoughts and memories? You find a lot of documents as you search the rooms, some signed as "Eva", some as "Evil", some as "Matt", and some as "Doc", which is Orange Jumpsuit. Those didn't really tell me much other than someone in here is suffering a break in their mind, darker impulses taking over. Whether Evil is Eva or Matt, I don't know. Maybe one, then the other? Some of Matt's writing you find later suggests his worst impulses are getting stronger, so maybe he's getting infected while he's here?

The game ends rather abruptly. You wake up in the tub where you usually lose limbs, but Doc's not there. You can see someone strapped in a chair under a tarp, but can't do anything to help. You stumble into the hall, and then Doc is chasing you as you try to reach an elevator. Apparently that turns out differently, depending on how many times you died, but none of the endings seem to tell you much. I gather there's a sequel, Oxide Room 208, which may be set concurrently with this game and tells another side of it, but I'm not buying it.

I got the "too many deaths" ending, and the "no deaths" ending. The latter at least gives you a fun option, once you make it to the elevator. Doc keeps futilely trying to reach through the gate, and the game lets you click a button like he's an object to interact with. Normally when you do that, the button options are things like "Examine", or "Inventory." This time, the only option was "Revenge." Well, you know I love me a good revenge opportunity, so at least the playthrough ended on a high note (even if there's a phone call between Doc and his benefactor afterwards where he states he doesn't think Matt will make it through the forest.)

Overdue Movie Reviews #10 - High Plains Drifter (1973)

A stranger (Clint Eastwood) rides into the town of Lago, and within a matter of minutes, guns down 3 men who were hassling him, and rapes a woman. Curiously, rather than insisting on his arrest, the leaders of the town send the sheriff to offer the stranger a job: protect Lago from 3 other men, about to be released from prison, who swore revenge.

The stranger agrees, for a price. The price turns out to be the townspeople's dignity and self-respect as much as anything. He takes, and takes, and takes, and they bear it, because the alternative is to fight for themselves, or to simply take the revenge they've got coming.

My dad would say this is definitely a '70s Western, and he'd say it in the most scornful tone possible. Basically everyone is an amoral scumbag, constant betrayals, backstabbing and abuse. Promises are made with no intention of honoring them. There's no loyalty to anyone or anything, all that unites the townsfolk is the idea they can always put off the point when payment will come due. Two rapes, because I'm hesitant to define what happens between the stranger and Sarah Belding (Verna Bloom) late in the film as anything other than that. He not only takes over her bedroom, but drags her along with him, then kisses her when she tries to stab him with scissors, and things progress from there. The movie certainly frames it as Mrs. Belding being into it once they got started (and does the same with the first as well), but I'm not really prepared to make that allowance.

There's no real good guy. Mordecai (Billy Curtis) isn't an awful person, but once he figures out the stranger at least tolerates him (or finds him a useful prop to humiliate the townsfolk), he milks it for all he's worth, just like the stranger. Sarah seems to have a conscience, but she has, as her conniving lickspittle of a husband points out, kept quiet about it for a long time. She wasn't happy, she could have left Lago and that useless bastard anytime. He wasn't going to abandon his precious hotel to chase her.

The closest thing to a good person would be the marshal, who we only see in flashback (sort of), because he got whipped to death in the street by Stacey Bridges and the Carlin brothers while the entire town looked on over a year before the movie begins.

I'm curious why they decided on whipping him. It wasn't to terrify the townspeople, the townspeople hired them to do the killing, so he wouldn't blow the whistle about the town mine being on government land. Why not just shoot him?

I guess because whipping is more brutal, and the movie wants to be brutal. Wants to provide a reason for the stranger to whip one of the Carlin brothers to death. Because otherwise, there's no real difference. Shot or whipped, the marshal died because he was going to insist on following the law, and that would have hurt the townspeople's economic status, so he had to go. And it allows for one of the two moments where Eastwood isn't scowling or smirking, when he first arrives in Lago and whips around at a whipcrack.

(The other moment is when the stranger, having ordered all other guests out of the hotel, hears the preacher promise they'll find shelter in the homes of the townspeople - at regular hotel rates, of course. Eastwood does this surprised jerk, almost a spasm, as though even he can't believe they sink that low.)

Of course there's the supernatural element, the stranger riding out of the heat waves coming off the desert, giving the impression he materialized from the air, then departing the same way at the end. The creepy intro music, I'm guessing that's a theremin, really helps establish an odd atmosphere, along with the first 5+ minutes of the film having no dialogue. Like we've entered a land of the dead.

There's also the stranger's ability to seemingly cover a lot of ground quickly and without notice.  His brief attack on Bridges and the Carlins in the rockpile, where he seems able to move from one side to the other within seconds, but also when the men attempt to ambush him in his hotel room. The time between when Callie slips from the room to when the men charge in couldn't have been more than a few seconds, yet he got out the window with all his clothes, and had a stick of dynamite ready. Also, when Callie first tried to kill him herself, she fired 4 shots into a little metal tub where he was submerged, and somehow didn't even scratch him. Which doesn't seem possible, but it's almost like once he went under the water, he was gone until he chose to stick his head back out.

It's a little like Charles Bronson's Harmonica character in Once Upon a Time in the West constantly appearing by stepping from behind something (a door, a pillar, a train.) Suggesting that in their quest for vengeance, they've transcended human capabilities somehow.

It's, I wouldn't say a happy end to the movie. The stranger leaves, satisfied his work is done. The marshal is going to have an actual grave marker. Seems strange they wouldn't have done that already, if just for appearances' sake. Sarah Belding is indeed, getting the fuck out of Lago. Not that there's much left of Lago. Most of the town was burned down by Bridges, what's left is painted bright red. A bunch of townspeople are dead, at either the stranger's hands or Bridges', the remainder look like war wounded, watching the stranger leave with shell-shocked expressions.

Back in 2009, I wrote a post wondering if the stranger spent all that time prepping the townspeople to defend their town because he wanted to give them the chance to clean up their own mess for once, or if he knew they never had a chance and just wanted to humiliate them a little more. It's hard for me to picture him being satisfied with Bridges dying at their hands, so I suspect it was one more prank he pulled. There's never any indication the practice is having an effect; their aim is no better, they're still counting on him to take care of business. They're just going along with this because he insisted and they want to keep him happy and willing to solve their problems.

This isn't the kind of film where people confront their fears and triumph, it's one where they keep running until their fears trample them into the dirt.

Honeymoon Headache

If it was that easy to make Harley be quiet, everyone would try being smelly. 

Starting immediately after the end of the second season of the animated series, Harley Quinn: The Eat. Bang! Kill. Tour is Harley and Ivy celebrating their honeymoon - although they didn't really get married so much as just drove off together - by crashing in other villains' houses on short (or no) notice, while trying to outrun an increasingly deranged and pathetic Commissioner Gordon.

While writer Tee Franklin throws in plenty of public (and private) displays of affection between Harley and Ivy, things get increasingly rocky as the mini-series progresses. Ivy's having a variety of doubts, from the pain she caused her fiance Kite Man by messing around with Harley behind his back, plus some childhood trauma from her father telling her no one would ever love her. There's also the part where she realizes a relationship with Harley is never going to have much in the way of peace or tranquility.

All the guilt and self-doubt and whatnot results in her repeatedly snapping at Harley, only to get cuddly and apologetic moments later. In Ivy's defense, Harley does repeatedly do shit that's pretty rude or flat out stupid. When they decide to leave town, Harley suggests leaving her hyenas with Catwoman. Does she call Selina ahead of time to check if this is OK? Well, if you count texting as they get out of their car in front of Selina's building, then sure. Harley suggests they crash in the home of a villainess who got arrested at Ivy's wedding-that-wasn't, again without asking for permission. There's just a real lack of impulse control or consideration for anyone other than Ivy.

In Harley's defense, Ivy should have known about these tendencies long before now and possibly taken them into consideration before making major life decisions, but the heart wants what it blah blah blah.

By the back half of the mini-series, they've reached Detroit and run afoul of part of a Justice League (Vixen, and to lesser extents Cyborg and Zatanna), and some sludge-villain called Mephitic. Harley gets captured, Ivy has to try and deal with her own shit so she can rescue her girl.

Max Sarin draws 5 of the 6 issues (issue 4 is drawn by Erich Owen) with Marissa Louise as color artist throughout. Sarin gets to draw a lot more fight scenes than they did on Giant Days, and they handle Harley's acrobatic flips and bat swinging very well. And their art is perfect for the roller-coaster of emotions the characters are going through. In particular, I love how Sarin has the plant life around Ivy react to her emotional state. And with Mephitic's power being essentially stench-based, Sarin and Louise combine to give the smell a physical weight to it. The color is nausea-inducing, and the little flourishes as it jabs its way into Harley's nostrils really add to the toxicity.

I wonder why Franklin chose Mephitic as the main villain of the mini-series - unless you figure it's Gordon, or Ivy's issues - unless it was because he provides the opportunity to make all kinds of cracks about how bad he smells.