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(From "Planet Comics" number 1, 1940.)
In my day we blamed the dog.
Looks like ol’ Doc Fate’s wielding a classic Remington GP-35 Sulpheric Vaporizer (…an expensive precursor to the whoopie cushion that was later recalled), but then I remembered he mystically summons his farts from the rancid bowels of C’thulu.
And with a cloud of noxious gas, Four-Fingered Cole saves the day.
This could be Taco Bell’s new ad campaign!
So we have… epic gas?
So now we have… epic gas?
And then there’s my next question, is it Fail or Win? I suppose that’s a matter of perspective, or nose sensitivity, but I’m leaving it open.