Superheroes always do the right thing. If a construct is burning, they are the firstly to rush in and rescue any babies. If there’s a mass shooting, they are the firstly to tell their Facebook acquaintances about how Obama will use it as an excuse to take out their artilleries. If there’s a woman talking about video games, they are the firstly to post her address online and hope assassins are speaking. But these are obvious, universal goodness. What happens when superheroes are announced in be addressed with most sophisticated ethical dilemmas?
# 5. Conserve Energy By Brutally Murdering All Who Waste It
We should all work to conserve energy. It seems like a pretty simple hypothesi, but what if we told you that in 1980, Marvel decided to take that content, tie it in with soup, and spread it out over 36 pages of drooling, gibbering madness? Behold: Captain America And The Campbell Kids .
“Campbell’s: I could slurp this all day.”
The story starts with a group of children wasting vigour on their favorite hobbies: Soapbox loves to design rocket cars and Clean Clara devises lavatory gadgets to clean herself, clean herself, never clean enough, clean herself. Speaking Ricardo passions to speak, so he has enslaved a team of robots to wreak him notebooks. And wild wife TV Tanya plays computer chess and tic-tac-toe at the same occasion .
“And I’m Bored Captain America ! I shouldn’t have asked you boring assholes your identifies !!! ”
Instead of leaving these standing teens to their pathetic, lonesome pubescences, Captain America starts lecturing them on how much intensity they’re wasting. Eventually the soup toddlers take over as narrators and it all becomes too crazy for a normal human mentality to process.
Look at the dishonor on the horse’s face for being reaped into this macrocosm .
Before we memorize the entire record of energy and what it meant to the Native Americans, the teach is thankfully interrupted by a supervillain attempt. Regrettably, the supervillains are energy-themed and tie directly into the subject close at hand. So Captain America’s engagement grows chronicled by child soup spokespeople who are also still learning us about energy conservation. It’s like the worst day of five different people’s lives all happening at once, but less coherent than that sounds.
“Disembodied psyches, you describe the situation from the back! I’ll describe it from the figurehead! ”
This may be harsh criticism, but severed newborn psyches are horrific narrators. For the entire problem, they justify every obvious stuff happening in the middle each board, while cheerfully moving next to their own meaningless yarn. All future comic founders should take note — when creating a stunning oppose scene, try not to float a grinning, cherubic baby manager over it.
“OK, looks like Cap is climbing a thing to fight the guy! And while I have you here, energy conservation
is no reason to cut back on the hearty smell of soup! ”
The four supervillains, who were never heard from before or again, are all dedicated to squandering power. They’re not even worth international efforts of a bad parody, and they overpower the shit out of Captain America. So it’s up to those heartbreaking indoor minors we congregated earlier to defeat the baddies. How? By conserving power, of course!
“Captain America is dying! Let’s perhaps find a better age for all these long discussions about soapbox race cars! ”
The children manage to cut the villains off from all sources of energy to defeat them. And when we say “defeat, ” we make they melt into puddles that croak hollering of providing assistance under the ceaseless gaze of a disembodied toddler chief . We are not trained healers, but we know enough about child psychology to know these girls are fucked.
“AT NIGHT, THESE ENERGY-CONSCIOUS TEENS WILL STILL HEAR THE DOOMSDAY MAN’S FINAL SQUEALS! ”
This comic tones less like a public service and more like something moved into your manager and caressed your brain. But it does end with a fun labyrinth boasting three of the four recently deceased supervillains! See if you can solve it before a confused custodian mops up their still-weeping liquid continues!
“Remember us as we were: commercial-grade shills.”
# 4. Don’t Litter Or Superman Will Steal Everyone’s Bikes
Batman V Superman pee-pee all over the basic principles of Superman, sure, but there has been a long and storied history of writers clamping up the Guy Of Steel. Nothing illustrates it better than this community service comic about the hazards of the littering.
“Superman says, ‘Be a good citizen … or else! ‘”
It begins with Superman snooping on two children scheduling their home communities outreach platform — not the absolute worst employ of Superman’s time, but arguably in the top 10. It turns out the children are debating about littering and one kid is strongly and bizarrely on the “pro” side of the polemic. So Superman does what he spent a lot of the Silver Age doing: He massively and insanely overreacts.
To teach this kid a assignment about litter, he crowds their entire street with “trash.” And not random discarded objects — it’s almost entirely bikes. So either “hes found” the world’s simply bike graveyard or this asshole hover around at light speed embezzling perfectly good bikes simply to make a point. Then he accepts there all smug, handing a communication about what it means to be a good citizen while his super hearing relays the screams of all the pathetic children in a 50 -mile radius who woke up to missing bikes.
# 3. Don’t Neglect Your Kids Or They Will Become Time-Traveling Supervillains
If you’re a longtime reader of Marvel comics, you might are well aware that super-genius Reed Richards is kind of a dick.
From Marvel’s What If ? Problem 321: “What If Mr. Fantastic Actually Said What He Meant? ”
Reed Richards ever has his head in certain kinds of experimentation. He develops interstellar roam, robot butlers, and winging bathtubs, all to avoid spending time with his annoying family.
“Sorry, category, I can’t make it. I’m is currently working on my age machine. Gah! If exclusively I had some road to get more Hour! ”
After his wife and child leave for the ballpark, alone and disappointed, the portal spews out a terrifying future rascal. His name is Ego-Spawn, so he patently comes from a future where everyone is extremely respectful about not pointing out your stupid appoint. Ego-Spawn explains that he was raised by violent Tv presents and video games, and they opened him all the powers of murderous TV evidences and video games. Even in a macrocosm where most people got their superpowers by bumping into something radioactive, it’s a pretty stupid inception story.
“I’m disturbed because of uncensored media! You moron! If I was demonstrate 12 percent more nurturing
and six more hours of religion, I would have been a dental hygienist! ”
Ego-Spawn may have been exaggerating about the variety of his amazing dominances, though, because they are completely described expending exclusively the words “forehead laser.” He’s so pathetic that Reed pities him and quashes him applying knockout gas instead of a series of escalating rubber bitch-slaps. And here’s where the story takes a wild turn. After he’s knocked out, Reed removes Ego-Spawn’s helmet to discover he is Franklin Richards, Reed’s own son! Maybe! It’s someone with blonde mane, at least! He faded from this timeline too quickly to be certain.
“Blonde whisker !? A look !? Forehead lasers !? This must be my son from the future! ”
It turns out this entire story is being told to Spider-Man in order to learn him, perhaps the most famous propose of positive male role model in its own history of fiction, the superpower of positive male role models. And Reed aims the weirdly fruitless tale about neglecting his son by saying none of it matters since he can just leave the kid with The Human Torch or The Thing.
Lesson … learned ?