As I mentioned in the Mashup credits, here’s a free tip for any of you comics industry bigwigs out there. If your project requires a scripter and a plotter, two pencillers, and three inkers, it’s going to suck. Witness “Trinity”, an unholy multi-space-going-comic-characters crossover featuring L.E.G.I.O.N., the Green Lantern Corps, and the Darkstars, with all of the cringe-inducing anticipation of crap you, the savvy reader, would expect.

What really caught my attention about this Space-Borne Spectacle of Suck, however, was the beer-belly-baring badness of Tzodar the Destroyer:

Here you can see just how large Tzodar’s gut is by virtue of the unnamed hero getting unfortunately sucked into his belly button. Luckily, when you’re a god you get to have the best fashion designers in the universe put together your outfits, which is why his armor has a convenient cut-out so his love handles can flop around in all their glory while he’s busy destroying creation. “Oh no,” I can hear you saying, “that’s just an armor plate, not his stomach!” To which I can only reply, why do you hate America?

But that’s not all this paragon of fashion has brought to the table my friends, oh no! Why stop at a Madonna-inspired midriff-baring ensemble when you can add a long, flowing pony tail and ridiculous cloud/stopwatch/what the hell is that?! logo to the mix!

Because nothing says “I’m a butch macho god” like a long greasy pony-tail and your ginormous bloated stomach hanging out of your shirt. At least that’s what I’ve been assuming in my weekly jaunts to the local grocery store which, now that I mention it, might explain the strange looks and continued police presence I find there. A police presence which, frankly, would have been better off escorting those responsible for “Trinity” and Tzodar’s outfit off to jail before they could have published this comic.

(Images from “Trinity”, No. 2, ©1993 DC Comics.)

I usually try to keep my “Bad Super Costume” posts about actual humanoids, but when something is so awesomely bad that even the guy who owns it calls it a fiasco, I cannot resist. Ladies and gentlemen, I present … the Spider-Mobile!

Besides looking silly, which, let’s be honest, isn’t saying much considering it’s going to be driven by a guy dressed up like a blue and red spider, let’s run down the many ways this idea sucks:

1. It’s a dune-buggy. In Manhattan. Last time I checked, all the dunes there were paved over in, like, 1634.
2. It’s a dune-buggy. In Manhattan. Last time I checked, all the roads there are already clogged with vehicles, making a car the last thing someone would use to get someplace in a hurry. Spider-Taxi, now, that has promise …
3. It was built by Johnny Storm who, frankly, is number four on the list of Fantastic Four members you’d trust with a wrench.
4. One of Spidey’s nicknames is “The Wallcrawler”. You can’t climb walls while you’re riding in a car, and “Driver of Car That Climbs Walls” isn’t nearly as punchy.

Seriously, I get that Marvel wanted to move some product in the toy stores, and they were insanely jealous of the Batmobile. But come on. Putting Spidey in a vehicle robs him of everything that makes him cool. He can’t climb walls or spin webs or dodge and weave or in any other way act like a spider. Yes, the vehicle can do some of those things, but the vehicle isn’t Spider-Man. Technology and doo-dads are part of Batman’s persona, but not Spider-Man. Giving him a car is almost as bad an idea as taking away Superman’s powers and making him lightning-based instead, although no one would be stupid enough to do something so obviously foolish! Oh, wait …

To their credit, the writers at the time understood, I think, how silly the whole idea was. A company sponsored the build and wanted to pay Spider-Man to drive it, which he reluctantly agreed to eventually out of desperation and a desire to, you know, be able to afford pizza. It turned out poorly and he eventually dumped it in the river. Where a villain recovered it and reprogrammed it for evil.

Which couldn’t have been that hard because, come on, the Spider-Mobile was pretty evil by the mere fact of its existence in the first place.

The third rule of creating a super-powered character (only slightly less important than “Don’t tug on Superman’s cape” and “Never start a land war in Asia“) is, “Never put anything in their name that sounds like ‘rectum’.”

Which brings us to She-Hulk villain “Captain Rectitude“:

If you’re going to violate that third rule anyway, however, at least don’t put him in giant purple thigh-boots that should never be seen anywhere outside of a pirate deck. And you certainly shouldn’t put a big double-testicle-shaped heart logo on his chest that fires pearly white beams of anti-smut rage. And you definitely, definitely shouldn’t make his abilities based on re-channeling his every sexual impulse into Puritanical anti-porn powers.

Yes, that’s right, “Captain Rectitude”, with the name that starts out with the same root as “rectum”, is entirely powered by repressed sexual energy.

Somewhere, Freud is rolling over in his grave and smiling.

(Image and character from “She -Hulk”, Vol. 2, No. 21, ©1990, Marvel Entertainment Group.)

If the concept of a “Shane and Sia The Barbi Twins 16-Month Swimsuit Comic Art Calendar” doesn’t strike you as a terrible idea, then perhaps the installment for “March, 1996″ will change your mind:

I feel this qualifies as a “Bad super costume” because a) it’s a “comic art” calendar, b) the artist, Peter Hsu, worked in the comics industry (granted, on “The Barbi Twins Adventures”, but still), and c) they are being attacked by a Giant Intergalactic Space Sperm, which could only happen in either a comic book or a bad John Holmes movie.

Also, one of the twins (I can’t tell if it’s Shane or Sia, as if that really matters) is making a “Spider-Man Webslinging” hand, which clearly is a comic book reference. I don’t specifically recall Spidey facing off against a Giant Intergalactic Space Sperm, but he did fight Galactus once or twice. I leave the rest to your imagination.

Having established that this image is a bona fide target for comic book investigation, I have to ask the following questions:

1. If you feel confident your day will involve flying out of the atmosphere to battle Giant Intergalactic Space Sperm, why would you wear a bikini?
2. Nine inch spike heels: fashion accessory of potential weapon?
3. What the heck is that in the lower twin’s hair? A mind-amplifying tiara (right, like there’s a mind to amplify!)? Insanely oversized bunchie? Levering device to dig out the atomic wedgie that bikini bottom is giving her?
4. What in the name of all that’s holy is that bottom twin doing with her left hand there, and how will pulling something out from between her sister’s leg help defend Earth against marauding Giant Intergalactic Space Sperm?

OK, I lied, I don’t really want to know the answer to that last question.

I try not to be judgmental, but I’m going to go out on a limb here and say that “crapping fire” is not a bona-fide super power:

At least the flaming feces are in handy pellet form, useful (presumably) for flinging at enemies. Although given the way Spidey is cringing in horror, I doubt that’s going to be happening any time soon.

On the one hand, I have to give them credit for giving a hero to a group who routinely gets discriminated against. But on the other hand … Captain Obese? Really?

So to recap, we have a really really fat guy (I can call him obese, it’s right in his name), who inhabits a fantasy world full of hot female elves, while wearing his underwear and sneakers. I fail to see what’s imaginary about any of this, I could find you two dozen real-life examples of exactly the same thing by spending half an hour at my local comics shop. And that’s not even including myself!

(Image and character ©1986, Don Lomax and WaRP Graphics, Inc., from the Annual which also includes “Thunderbunny”, sentient unicorns, and kung-fu pandas. I shit you negatory.)

I’d like to credit commenter Fabien for alerting me some time ago to the horror that is Razorback’s costume:

I’m going to bet that Razorback’s origin involves having been the University of Arkansas’ mascot when he acquired his powers. That or he really, really loves the smell of bacon. Even if that’s true, though, I honestly can’t imagine anyone would come up with this on purpose without there being some sort of bet or dare involved. I’d love to see the checklist he came up with while brainstorming what he’d use for his super-villainous heroic exploits:

• Basic body suit: check.
• Belt with lots of nifty pouches for carrying keys, wallet, bottle opener, etc: check.
• Cool roll-up gloves and matching tie-across boots: check
• Headgear of some sort of giant animal that makes me top-heavy and likely to topple over: check.
• And whose mouth doesn’t match where my mouth is: check.
• And whose nose completely obscures my vision: check.

The odds are pretty good here that whatever else Razorback does or does not have in his super powered arsenal, he’s planning on doing a lot of head-butting. A lot of that probably went on even before he got his super powers, which is likely the best explanation for how he came up with this ensemble.

In any event, Razorback truly deserves a place in the all-time Bad Super Costume Hall of Shame.

If you were working for a major comic book company in the eighties and nineties, you were faced with a horrible dilemma — no matter how many guns you gave your character, at some point there was a risk (however slight) they might get disarmed in some way. And let’s face it, in those days a super-hero unable to shoot someone in the face was barely a super-hero at all.

Then, in a fit of pure genius that I am sure got someone promoted, Marvel came up with a brilliant plan: Put the gun inside the character! Thus was born “Bushwacker”:

Yes, that pinkish-tan stuff is his skin and yes that is a bionic gun implanted in place of his arm. No, I am not making this up. In point of fact, not only is this an actual published character, but I submit to you that Bushwacker is the ultimate expression of the Image Principle, which I totally invented and which states:

No concept is too ridiculous if it increases the character’s ability to shoot people.

Disturbingly, my first reaction on seeing this image was not “That’s really stupid”, but rather “How does he get the ammo in that thing, and where does it come out of”. Which says a lot about how inured to bad super hero characters I’ve become. Of course I’m not the only one, as Wikipedia reveals others not only had the same question but came up with an answer:

He manages to load the weapons by swallowing ammo, such as bullets or flamethrower fuel.

I ask you, is that not one of the all-time great sentences in human literature?

Sadly, Wikipedia is silent on the subject of how the spent casings exit his body, although I suspect he spends a fortune on new toilets. In any event, I refuse to speculate on that subject because that kind of potty humor is beneath a blogger of my ethics and intellectual stature. (Seriously, if he farts is there a risk of a driveby? I’m just asking!)

No, what I want to focus on is why in the hell is there a shoulder stock on the gun that’s built into his freaking forearm?! He ain’t holding it up to his freaking shoulder if it’s built into his freaking arm!!1!!1! I also love the way he’s staring at the gun arm lovingly, as if it is the Greatest Thing Ever. Which, come on, it totally is.

Bushwacker, I salute you and the brain-dead, violence-humping perfection you embody. Well played, Marvel, well played indeed.

When I was a kid, while riding my bike I would occasionally rise up out of the seat, and shout “Engage fart boosters!” while taking off at a high rate of speed.

Immature, vulgar, and smelly, yes, I admit to all of those faults with my little scheme. However, little did I know that I was actually channeling the spirit of one of Marvel’s greatest villains, Modok!

I might not have his massive brain, his chest-sized face, or his vast financial resources, but by all that’s holy at least I had his fart boosters! I would have ruled the world, too, if it hadn’t been for those meddling kids and their stupid dog, holding me down and forbidding me to quote “gas up” their neighborhood any more, end quote.

Ever wonder where Calendar Man, The Calculator, Captain Morgan Fear, and Prince Ra-Man would find the female member of their super-villain team “The Household Items Gang”? Well wonder no more, as you behold the terror of office secretaries everywhere, Whiteout!

I bet Office Depot just found their first corporate-sponsored super character. Take that, Stark Industries! Of course they’ll have to change her slogan — “Oops” just isn’t going to cut it — but otherwise I think she’s a natural. Just look at how they even got the little curlicue on top, just like happens with a real dollop of whiteout! Clearly, someone lavished a lot of time on this character. I mean, after the initial tequila-fueled panic attack five minutes before deadline when they hit upon the idea after digging wildly around in their desk for inspiration, that is.