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Look, supervillainy isn’t all deathrays and weather dominators

October 22, 2011

You’d think during hard economic times that there’d be an increase in supervillainy, but a nefarious plots for world domination take a lot of initial capital to get off the ground (literally in some cases) and the shadow banks that provide investments to supervillains aren’t making as many loans as they once did in more prosperous times.  This means a lack of high quality supervillains in the marketplace for superheroes to do battle with, and that hurts the marketability and sponsorship deals of our superheroes.

And so our local superhero Crimson Paraplegic has been forced to hold interviews to find a worthy arch-enemy who can catapult her popularity to the upper echelon of superhero-dom.  Her Craigslist invite got one response…

“Spiny Jack!” says the average-height man in khaki pants and a striped polo shirt. “Here to be your blood enemy!”

“So, do you shoot spines out of your body or something?”  says Crimson Paraplegic, not impressed with him.

“No, but my penis has spines on them, like a cat’s penis,” says Spiny Jack.  “See, a long time ago humans lost the DNA strand that would have had us evolving penis spines.  I apparently have that strand and… well, a spiny penis.”

“Okay…”  Crimson says.  “So no flight capabilities, no super strength, no energy-based projectiles?”

“Just a penis with retractable spines,” says Spiny Jack.  “Want to see it?”

“No, that won’t be necessary,” says Crimson. “But tell me how does that make you a super villain?”

“I’m a rapist,” says Spiny Jack.  “A super rapist.”

Crimson lets out a tired sigh.  “Yeah… I don’t think this is going to work.”

“Why not?”  says Spiny Jack, hurt.

“First of all, all you have is a spiny dick,” says Crimson.  “I have flight, super strength, and you can drop  a train on me and it won’t even muss up my hair.  It’s a lopsided matchup.”

“Hey, some of us win the mutation lottery, and others don’t,”  says Spiny Jack.  “My DNA was playing musical chairs with the universe and when the music stopped I was in the spiked penis chair.  Not my fault.  It could have easily have been you with the barbed genitals, but no, it was me. So don’t judge me like you’re something special.”

“Okay… well, secondly I can’t have a arch-nemesis who’s primary evil deed is rape,” says Crimson.  “It’s not marketable.  Superman wouldn’t be nearly as popular as he is if Lex Luthor was a rapist instead of an evil genius billionaire.”

“We could break new ground here,” says Spiny Jack.  “The first supervillain devoted to rape vs. the first crippled flying superhero.  That’s a comic with a cult following waiting to happen. At least in Japan.”

Crimson remembers the Japanese superhero Rapeman, and ponders whether an inverse of that structure would work.  But only for a brief second before remembering that the idea is completely horrific.

“And third, I don’t want a rapist arch-nemesis because then that would assume that you want to rape me,” says Crimson.  “With your spiny penis.  That really skeeves me out.”

“What else am I supposed to do with a penis with retractable spines, huh?”  says Spiny Jack.  “It’s not like I can have a normal relationship with women.  Who would want to date a guy or start a family with a guy with a spiky dick?  What choice do I have but to be a rapist?”

Crimson wanted to tell him he could certainly choose not to be a rapist, but from a comic book narrative point of view he had a point.  Two main things defined characters in the superhero medium: personal trauma and deformities.  Spiny Jack had both, and in pure supervillain fashion those things drove him to villainy.  Specifically, the only villainy befitting a man with a spiked penis. But while this was a cogent storyline, it wasn’t one Crimson particularly wanted any part of.

“I still don’t think I’m the right arch-nemesis for you,”  Crimson Paraplegic said.  “My vagina is probably strong enough to rip those spines off, plus it’s not like I can feel anything below my waist anyway.  It kind of lessens the horror of your heinous violation of human dignity.”

“They grow back, the spines,”  says Spiny Jack. “Bigger than before.  And really it doesn’t matter to me if you’re horrified or even conscious when I ravage you.  I’m not in a position to be particular about how this goes down.”

“Look, there’s no way you being my archenemy doesn’t end with me punching you and either crippling or killing you,” says Crimson.  “And I have no desire to end up in front of the Superhero Disciplinary Board again on why I punched through someone’s skull or why the state has to pay for yet another paralyzed criminal.”

Spiny Jack looks crestfallen, which is not what you want to see a supervillain look like because it’s the first step toward them doing something really stupid and awful.

“Maybe I can refer you to someone else,”  says Crimson, taking out her iPhone and going through her contacts list.  “Oh, this might work…”

And so Spiny Jack became the archenemy of an old superhero academy friend: The Night Reclaimer.  Originally she was called Nocturnal Melody because her only superpowers were night vision and being pitch perfect, along with years of martial arts training.  She ended up being a Batman-like superhero for college towns, making sure the frat boys and jocks didn’t sexually assault sorority girls and co-eds at their parties.  Then she got a promotional deal with the Take Back the Night cause, switched her name and costume, and moved up patrolling the bigger state school campuses.

At first The Night Reclaimer wasn’t warm to the idea of a spiny-dicked rapist being her archenemy until Crimson informed her that beating up a supervillain was a lot more high-profile, and a lot more fun, than beating up football players. Plus while she got complaints from the alumni committee whenever she savagely beat up a starting quarterback who was banging a roofed-up unconscious freshman girl in his frat  house, no one would complain if she took liberties with Spiny Jack.

So everyone pretty much got what they wanted… except for whoever Spiny Jack grabs next and throws down behind a row of bushes.  But in Crimson Paraplegic’s book that’s The Night Reclaimer’s problem.

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3 comments

  1. “Hey, some of us win the mutation lottery, and others don’t”

    you can say that again…..


  2. i did not know this fact about cat penises. Huey is no longer allowed in my bed. that’s just all sorts of fucked up….


  3. I would love the chance to have Spiny Jack arch me. Hey-o.



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