quick thinking prevails! No time for that, though! LexCorp stole something from Antarctica near the remnants of the Fortress of Solitude, and Superman finds out that human activity near the area causes WEIRD RIFTS in the WHOOZITS and WUZZAH-WHA! Kryptonian dinosaurs! Rawr!

It was dumb as shit, but he stopped it I suppose.

Also, John Henry Irons showed up to Metropolis with his big dumb suit idea to help their police force. This guy is a total kiss-ass and I hated him in New 52 Action Comics and I hate him now!

So forget all of that, because here in Action Comics we’re gonna get some real action, baby! Guns and fisticuffs! Bar brawls and car chases! Diffusing bombs and flicking cigarettes into a puddles of gasoline, causing major explosions! It’s all here! Presumably.

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Action Comics (Vol. 1), Issue #760 [December, 1999]
Written by: Joe Kelly
“…Never-Ending Battle…”

“Faith gets us through the night when we’re uncertain a dawn will come…it also gives us the Bogeyman bigger, bloodier fangs.” – Clark Kent, Daily Planet, Oct. 1999

Ha, really? What kind of puff piece was Clark writing about here? How did the chief editor let “Bogeyman” pass?

“Today…everything changes! Today, respect! Today, power! Today…METROPOLIS IS MINE!”

And who’s this fanciful, flamboyantly dressed man speaking so exuberantly? Why, it’s Doctor Spectro! He wears large red sunglasses like Bono, he wears a polkadot clown suit, he wears a ridiculous silver belt, and his over-the-top smile reminds me of a manic Tom Cruise.

“I wish I could see them…the insignificant toads who scoffed at my brilliance…who mocked my holographic creations and choice of dress…” he yells like a raving lunatic to himself. Doctor Spectro is on top of a building sending a Superman signal in the sky, like a second-rate Metropolis version of Commissioner Gordon. And, would you look at that, it worked! Superman hath been summoned.

Superman does mock the unoriginality of the Superman-Signal, so at least ACTION COMICS has some self-awareness at the turn of the millennium. “Crack wise while you can, ‘Man of Tomorrow’, for today, your tomorrows are at an end!!” exclaims the very silly Spectro. He’s a very silly man.

Doctor Spectro came prepared! Superman fell right into his trap! The trap was tricking Superman into being summoned so he could show up and be tricked! Ingenious!

KRYPTONITE!!! As you can see, he delightfully screams this in kryptonite-green letters as the glowing chunk of Rock radiates toward the caped dumbass. HA HA HA HA HA HA!!

It doesn’t work. Doctor Spectro is put out very quickly.

“I…uh…oh, please…not the face,” pleads the Good Doctor, humbly conceding a swift defeat.
“All right,” Superman says, crunching the Superman signal into a twisted pile of scrap, “not the face.”

Doctor Spectro sits hunched over with a sourpuss face. He had a celebration for himself prepared! He booked a private room at the club! This was supposed to be his day! THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE THE SUMMER OF SPECTRO!!

Superman grins his toothy grin. Look on the bright side, buddy: you annoyed him for about two minutes! That’s worth something, eh? Chin up!

Plus, are you kidding? A rock spray-painted with green phosphorescent paint? Really? What did you think was going to happen, Sparky? “I mean, it’s not radioactive…it’s not crystalline…and look, see? The paint is flaking off right here…” Superman says, holding the rock in his hand.

Doctor Spectro gets irate now! He was hoodwinked! Swindled, baby! All he got was a mere paperweight! By a “Latin Lotharia”! A real seductress! So help him god he’s going to… he’ll… HE’LL TAKE HER TO COURT!

Superman doesn’t have time for this blubbering shell of a man, but another soon-to-be blubbering shell of man makes his appearance. “Superman!! Your time is up!!”

Yeesh, this day really sucks. A guy wearing a clock head, and his four clock-tunicked cronies, ambush the hero. Two of them are holding glowing rocks at an arm’s length, intending to stymie the superb man.

“Hey…how come he ain’t cringin’ in pain, like the lady said?” asks the one donned in an elaborate cuckoo clock affair.

*laugh track*

*Cosby Show theme*

*Bill Cosby spikes your drink*

For some reason, Lois Lane likes to spend her coffee breaks standing on top of the Daily Planet building, even though she falls off a building or through a window roughly nine teams per week. Of course, no coffee for her. Clark isn’t allowing it anymore, because, like a woman, she’s been too high-strung and hyper lately as it is. Yes, yes, a few breathfulls of that stank Metropolis air does the job all on its own! Heh heh. *hack* *cough*

Hey, continuity! Perry White told Clark in Superman (Vol. 2), Issue #151 that he was going to give him the job of foreign correspondent as long as it didn’t put a strain on the marriage. And it looks like it’s putting a strain on the marriage!

Keep out of their marriage, you creepy old man. Go home and rub your dick against your mom’s sweaters, ya turkey.

So Clark’s supposed to be in Japan right, and I’m sure he still “is”. As in, it probably takes him seven minutes to fly from Japan to the United States so I’m sure he just excused himself for a bathroom break and booked it across the Pacific Ocean.

Perry White offers Lois to come to his office if things get tough, which sounds incredibly inappropriate to me, but Lois takes it in stride.

Lucky for Lois, Superman hovers right below the extremely low rails of the roof. Low enough to topple over if someone were to just…give her a quick nudge. Too bad Doctor Spectro didn’t think of THAT.

Perry White goes inside. Superman pops up to briefly kanoodle nauseatingly with his wife. He grabs her and they fly away. How romantic. That’s just another Friday for me.

“You’d better take that super-mouth of yours and kiss me with it, Smallville, before I forget why I missed you,” Lois says coyly. Gross. Thinking about skipping ahead. Like, when do they get divorced? I want to start there instead.

Lois asks her hubby if he was afraid of the fake kryptonite. He makes one of his patented 48 IQ faces and delves into a long-winded soliloquy about his personal relationship with the dreaded, loathsome substance! In short…nah. Even though it’s the only thing that can hurt me and there are about 17 billion people on the planet who would use it the first chance they got…nah.

“The only thing I’m ever afraid of when I put on this suit and do my thing… is that I might not see you again,” Superman coos.

Blech. Barf. I’ve got some divorce paper templates drafted up, just say the word.

SUBJECT CHANGE! Lois Lane was poking around this newfangled internet and she may have found the woman who ripped off Doctor Spectro! But she’s not going to tell him just yet! It’s a fun surprise! Tee hee.

Oh snap. I was pretty close with my seven-minute estimate on the trans-Pacific flight from Japan to the United States. It is actually five minutes, my mistake. Sorry, Superman, I hope you forgive my claims that you’re actually a slowpoke of a tortoise.

Clark Kent attends a gala event at the Japanese estate of one Ivan Blackwell, a real smug, ostentatious motherfucker. A real showoff. A big insecure loser.

“I’m a true admirer of your writing, Kent– your fiction as well as your newspaper work,” Blackwell gushes. What an asshole. These two exchange pleasantries for a few moments while Superman screams inside. There’s nothing more he’d like to do right now than follow-up on this hag Lois was talking about, but he’s stuck snooting it up in Japan. This false kryptonite thing is egregious. EGREGIOUS!

Seems like Clark Kent’s main problem with fake kryptonite is that every wannabe evil doomsdayer is going to want to bean him in the head with a rock, and that sounds bothersome.

Ivan Blackbutt stands up at the dais of the ballroom and announces to the room that he has come into the possession of something very valuable! *removes sheet from mystery glass box, revealing Hitler’s penis*

KRYPTONITE!

The ONE THING that can kill Superman! Lucky him! It doesn’t even occur on Earth naturally! I’m told.

“…and I intend to use it as a cornerstone of an anti-metahuman campaign focused on my beloved Japan…” Ivan Blacklung continues boringly. Clark facepalms. Even his best friend in the world, this Japanese guy no one has ever heard of before, hates Superman! It never ends! Maybe he should tell this guy that he bought a useless spray-painted rock. Or maybe he should become Superman and eat it so that he can “prove” it doesn’t work so that no one will try to hurt him with real kryptonite. Maybe Superman should eat a dang pile of rocks.

FINALLY, THIS IS WHERE THE ACTION BEGINS! Some very large, armored muscle-man riding a gigantic lion made of rock crashes through the wall and stops this farce in its tracks! “You will relinquish that ill-gotten rock to its rightful owner! So commands Ishi-Shujou, the Stone Emperor!!!”

How dumb could you get? This is dumb! ACTION!

“Back away from my property, Capitalist, or my granite ninjas will rend you limb from limb!!” he screams, bounding straight toward a confused Ivan Blacksabbath. Clark facepalms again. He’ll be doing that a lot.

So this Stone Emperor guy, he knows that this “trollop” has been hocking kryptonite. However, the fake kryptonite was stolen from the Stone Emperor in the first place. And he wants that shit back for some reason! Because he thinks it’s real too. Everyone wants the Superman-killing chunk of rock.

Superman shows up OUT OF NOWHERE and throws objects at the Stone Emperor. Tells him to vamoose!

Stone Emperor is all like “FUCK YOU, GRINGO! THIS AIN’T AMERICA! THIS IS JAPAN! THE RULES ARE DIFFERENT! BACK OFF, KEMOSABE! CAPICHE?”

Superman does not capiche. He claps his hands forcefully with an onomatopoeic “FATHOM” (?) which crumbles his stone lion into…pebbles, I guess. GRR!! YOU WIN THIS ROUND!! He gives up quickly. “We will meet again, Cape…and you will know my wrath.”

Yawn. What’s next? Oh, ok, the Stone Emperor dissolves into a puff of scarlet smoke and a fine powder, revealing the TRUE assailant! A sultry, ample-bosomed woman! The trollop! And her name is La Encantadora! Which I think roughly translates to “the trollop”! But my Spanish is rusty…

She immediately attempts to seduce Superman and it sort of works. She advises him to use those x-ray eyeballs of his and look through her dress! He almost does it. He probably took a quick peak. I’m telling Lois.

Snapping out of it, Superman’s all like “stop selling rocks” and ‘Dora is all like “no”. She proffers one of her delicious looking green rocks, and Superman is all like “that ain’t even real, I can smell the paint fumes already and– HAAAKGCH!”

Well, that one is real. Dozens of members of the press start snapping photos of Superman writhing on the floor like a wuss. Bidding starts at ten million dollars! She’ll meet anybody with a serious offer in Tijuana. Pay for your own drinks.

Superman continues to lurch and heave trying to stop her, but it’s a fruitless and dumb pursuit. So he tries asking her to please stop, but it’s not a sincere “please” whatsoever. I wouldn’t listen to him either if he’s going to be RUDE about it.

The press already has this pathetic display all over the television and internet. Just a full screen of Superman looking like a lump on the floor. The yokels over at the Daily Planet throw in their own two cents about it. “Almost took the big mane out… and every character with a grudge and a TV just saw her do it!” says Jimmy Olsen, speaking to nobody. Speaking to himself. As usual.

Lois is distressed. Remember, she knows who Superman is now! He’s… *checks marriage certificate with “Superman” scribbled out and “Clark Kent* rewritten* …her husband! She has to stay stoic and brave though! She has a job to do! Something about reporting the news, I think. It’s hazy.

Next thing we all see is Superman flying away confidently. He complains about the agony, but he looks fine to me. I’ve seen green shit come out of his nose due to kryptonite. This ain’t nothing.

This La Encantadora floozy is just distracting Superman so that she can continue to make money off of suckers and incels! Two can play it this game! Superman can attract incels, too!

The Riddler is in Tijuana for some inexplicable reason, never minding the clear fact that he should be in Gotham City harassing Batman instead. He and a bunch of other bad-guy ne’er-do-wells want to buy some of ‘Dora’s rocks. She smiles like she’s going to spit poison any minute now and lets them all know there’s plenty to go around! For like a trillion dollars each, please.

Superman must have GPS, because in no time at all he busts into this joint and starts pummeling fools left and right. “–got about three seconds before Encantadora realizes what’s happening, her synapses fire, and she thinks to open that box.”

Sounds like a thought that takes three seconds, to me, but no. Superman must have super-thinking power too, but based on his track record that’s impossible!

He takes the box from her hands and flings it into space. Bye! Say hi to Krypton for me! Oh wait, it’s gone and Superman’s whole family is dead! lol

Encantadora is like “fuck this!” It took her forever to find this hideout, and he busts it up in four minutes? Go fuck yourself.

“Don’t flatter yourself. The Riddler parked his green and purple van outside,” he tells her after she gets a little dig in that Superman has worked harder than any other man to get to her. She attempts the old sex gambit again. She asks for a peckaroonie on the ol’ lips…a-roonie. The choker around her neck starts giving him the tinglies, but not the good tinglies. The kryptonite tinglies. She looks confused and admits that it’s made out of more fake rocks, but he doubles over and goes BLUB BLUURRHHRB BRUAHABAAABABAB, which makes all the bad guys in the room snicker and chuckle and guffaw.

Riddler is the first one to kick him while he’s down, so to speak. He cracks both hands against the side of Superman’s neck, but then a rough KKRRRICHH!!! indicates that he quite literally cracks both hands! He shoves off sore and irritated.

It feels like kryptonite pain, but he’s still IMPERVIOUS TO SKINNY WIMPS? What’s going on here?

La Encantadora laughs and says “bye chumps” and leaves them all in the lurch! Off to San Francisco to sucker more dumb men out of their money! Adios!

A quick stop in Metropolis to say hi to Lois Lane before leaving somewhere else again. Lois scrounged up everything about La Encantadora that she could find on GeoCities in 1999, but it’s not much. There’s no pattern to her behavior. Thanks for nothing, Lois! I thought you were smart!

In San Francisco, ‘Dora has just sold a bullshit rock to some aggro-Spice Girl looking ladies. Superman is already there, hovering dick-to-face level with the one holding the rock up. She smiles, looking forward to taking Superman down and, I don’t know, humping his unconscious face?

It doesn’t work. He ties them up together with rope and leaves them hanging from the bridge. Next!

Superman bounces all over the world. The Arctic. China. New York. Metropolis. Berlin. Half a mile under the sea. Miami. He keeps shaking down new buyers of useless rocks for more information. He doesn’t really get any further in his pursuit. I would’ve just thrown ‘Dora in a pit or something and moved on with my life.

She seems to be moving faster than him, somehow. He ends his pursuit in the Sahara Desert, where he meets up with a blowjob named Ra’s al Ghul and his daughter Talia. I don’t know who these people are, but they look stern and unfriendly!

“You’re not as clever as the Detective,” proclaims Ra’s al Ghul, possibly referring to Batman, “the Detective would never have been led ‘round like a dog on a leash, fear-blind to clues within his grasp.”

They’re already bored with this guy, so they leave. Talia, on her way out, tells him that he needs to go to Spain now. Have fun! Run with some bulls while you’re there.

Superman looks bewildered, forlorn, and simple-minded! Also fugly. “Fear-blind to clues… what am I missing here?”

Sounds like we’re getting some DETECTIVE WORK in my Action Comics! Stay in your lane, bro.

In northern Spain, Encantadora is chilling on a bench waiting for a particular buyer to show up. She looks bored. “Should have known better than to take this meet. Mxyzptlk isn’t even a real name…how could he have a bank account?”

Luckily, someone shows up! It’s not Mryxtysyxyslk, but it’s Superman and all the Supervillains whom ‘Dora has wronged in the last five pages! All ready to kick some ass!

Here’s what’s ducky about this: she knows the jig is up. She doesn’t even look confident anymore. Sad and nervous. She looks for a way to weasel out of this one like a snake, but instead she has to own up to her actions. Like a weasel.

‘Dora touches the charm on her necklace, attempting to release some sweet, sweet, intoxicating, scarlet smoke and possibly harm Superman, but something fast SWOOPS DOWN and snatches it from her neck!

Looks like the conwoman has become the connee! It took a while, lots of strenuous thinking on Superman’s part which he DOES NOT do very well with.

“How did you figure it out?” ‘Dora asks quizzically, setting up a nice, convenient denouement! That’s French for “anticlimax”.

“I almost didn’t. I was so busy trying to compensate for my weakness… that I never looked for yours,” Superman guffaws as he holds up a cube. It turns out that she unknowingly betrayed her own damn self!

“Oh, by the way, Doctor Spectro sends his regards from jail,” Superman says, clicking on the Bat-Signal thing he had at the beginning of this issue; roughly 900,000 words ago on this blog post. Holy shit is this a long comic. The real Superman was the one who swooped in to steal the necklace. The fake Superman and all his fake supervillain buddies were actually fakes! Cooked up from the Bat-Signal thing!

‘Dora explains that her necklace smoke allows her to manipulate her targets. No shit. She was using Superman to get him to show up and beat these villains up so that she could sneak away with the money and no one was the wiser! Great plan! Except for the fact that it was foiled! Ha ha ha ha ha!

She gushes with respect for him, which is just another ploy to get a hunk of that boner inside of her. He tells her handcuffs will be involved, but it’s not going to be as sexy as she envisions. She kisses him right on the mouth, tongue flopping around in there.

He asks her why she did that.

“Consider it a show of good faith… at the beginning of a long-term relationship, darling.”
“You think so…?”
“Oh baby… I know so.”

Final Thoughts

What the fuck was THAT ending?

This post is already too long as it is. Let me just sum up my feelings with one word:

*fart*

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