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Working on a year of YABS.

That's funny.

I originally agreed to do YABS for twelve weeks as atrial period, so if I hated it, I could quit and goback to my cave. I figured it'd be a laugh, and tenpeople would read it, and then I'd go back to watchingtelevision on Sunday night, Iron Chef, Futurama andthe Simpsons, you know.

But I never thought I'd still be doing it after ayear. This isn't me being self-congratulatory...it'sme thinking I've gone nuts and no one's told me.

Still having a great time. The email is the best part,and I get the question all the time, maybe every week,"Where did THAT come from?"

Jonah came up with this fun idea of a YABS month, andhas asked me to name my five favorites, for thebenefit of newer readers, and to answer that question.

This is one that I liked, but I seemed to be one ofthe very very few. Mark Waid said it was the best oneyet at that point, but I got a lot of email frompeople saying, basically, "What the ****?"

My favorite writers change by the minute. I mean,honestly, who is my favorite writer? Well, it'sMorrison, Waid, Peyer, Grant, Azzarello, Ellis, Ennis,Millar, Grayson, Bendis, Rucka, Terry Moore, and amess of others I know I'm forgetting. But one guy whois always in the top handful is Alan Moore. I mean,I'm not stupid.

So the idea of Alan Moore in one of those cheesysixties romance comics just amused me. If you haven'tread it, spoiler notices below:

Each time Alan Moore appears, he's got a differentspeech pattern. This threw some folks who hadn't keptup with his books. First is the promo voice he uses inhis League of Extraordinary Gentlemen books. Next, hespeaks in anagrams, which is representative merely ofthe word games he's so fond of. The one that mostpeople missed if they got the gag at all was"Episcopal" which decodes to "Pepsi-Cola." Andfinally, the hype voice he uses when mocking DC andMarvel hype, ala World's Best Comics and 1963. Thereference to not using language is my favorite quotefrom Big Numbers.

Anyway, I wrote it, and was exceedingly proud of it (Irarely laugh at my own stuff. I laugh at real humor),and the next day I got all this mail saying, "I don'tget it." Now I may be a little less self-indulgent.

I sincerely doubt Alan ever read it, but it makes melaugh to think of him doing so. He'd probably hate it.

Plus someone told me later he's no longer married. Soscratch that whole gag.

But I still love those old romance comics. You should,too. Man, they're just repugnant!



October is YABS month here at CBR! Each week we'll be giving away a copy of Simpsons #50 which features the first published work of YABS author Gail Simone, signed by Gail herself! On the final week of YABS month we'll give away a copy of Simpsons #50 signed by many of the contributors to this issue (names to be announced later).

To enter all you have to do is register with CBR. If you already have an account with CBR, then you're already entered. Just make sure that your e-mail address on file is correct. We'll announce our first winner next week.

Teen Romance February 14th, 2000

2:00 AM: A Rainy October Night…

Detective Christian Walker and his new partner, Detective Deena Pilgrim arrive at the crime scene and push their way through the curious crowd of onlookers…

WALKER: Kutter, goddammit, what are you doing here?

KUTTER: Hey, hey, don't come down on me, big guy. I'm just trollin'…I see you brought the Munchkin.

PILGRIM: You know, I've had about enough shit outta you…

KUTTER: I know, I know. I'm ashamed of my little self, really I am.

WALKER: Can you two either kick the shit out of each other or get over it already?

PILGRIM: What's the story here, anyway?

KUTTER: The story is another freak hit it. Dropping from the sky, these days. Massive trauma, many ugly dynamics at work when you fall from fifty stories. Leg bone's connected to the neck bone, neck bone's connected to the…

PILGRIM: We get it, Emo.

WALKER: So how do you know it was a superdude?

KUTTER: Chalk outline had wings, dontcha know. Already looked for graffiti…just the usual tags, no Kaotik Chic scrawl to be found. Not much evidence, either…we found parts of his costume; a boot, a belt, and a mace or something. Pretty dinged up. Stuff's downtown already, tagged and bagged. No witnesses yet.

Detective Walker bends down to examine a white substance on the sidewalk surface…he touches it, lifts it to his nose to smell…

WALKER: …And what's all this white gunk everywhere?

PILGRIM: …It looks like bird shit…

KUTTER: It IS bird shit. Whole goddamn perimeter was covered in pigeons 'til I had a blue fire a couple rounds. Hey, happy holidays, all right? Wanna napkin?

Two hours later, the two detectives are in the M.E.'s cramped operating room…

DR. TUCKER: Hand me that pan behind you, won't you, Detective?

PILGRIM: Sure, Doc. What's in it?

DR. TUCKER: The victim.

WALKER: Ha. Ha. Nothing like forensic humor.

DR. TUCKER: We do have our fun.

PILGRIM: Yer a hoot. If you can tear yourself away from yourself, can you tell us what killed the victim?

DR. TUCKER: What didn't? Extreme maceration of the skin and organs, explosive cranial trauma, right arm and a portion of the right leg amputated upon impact, a near-complete cardial hemmorhage…not to mention the fact that he landed on a dog, and now has a poodle carcass mixed into his chest cavity…

WALKER: No, no, no…what she means is…

PILGRIM: What I mean is, why does a dude with wings stop flying, get it? Was he shot? He crash into a blimp? We already GOT some dead Powers, you'll recall.

WALKER: The Doctor remembers Retro Girl, Detective. Back off a bit.

DR. TUCKER: It's all right…Look. You bring me a baggie full of superhero and then expect me to solve the crime for you. I'll do my best, but right now, I don't have any answers for you. EITHER of you. Give me some time. Out, out, out.

WALKER: Okay, okay. I've gotta pick up the kid and get her some food.

PILGRIM: Ugh…you can EAT after this?

DR. TUCKER: After what? Hey, would you guys bring me back something? Some soup, maybe?

WALKER: I want a Quarter Pounder, and a large Coke…

CLERK: You want fries?

WALKER: You didn't let me…

CLERK: Cheaper with fries.

WALKER: You being a hardass?

CLERK: So, no fries?


CLERK: Fries aren't up.

WALKER: What are you saying?

CLERK: Fries aren't up yet.

WALKER: I'll wait.

CLERK: So, just fries and a Coke?

WALKER: And a Quarter Pounder.

Adorable Kid tugs at Walker's sleeve…

WALKER: Oh, yeah, and a Cheeseburger Kid's Meal.

CLERK: Fries aren't up.

ADORABLE KID: Do you know what a clitoris is?

WALKER: Calista…


ADORABLE KID: The cop doesn't know what a clitoris is.

CLERK: The clitoris is the erectile organ of the vagina, located at the top of the vaginal vestibule, right below the mons area.



ADORABLE KID: I want orange with my Happy Meal.


WALKER: So what?

PILGRIM: So what makes a wing-guy superfreak fall out of the sky?

WALKER: Deena, I'm trying to eat.

ADORABLE KID: That guy with all the zits told me what a clitoris is.

Suddenly, Deena stabs Detective Walker through the hand with a plastic fork


PILGRIM: Sorry. I thought you might have powers. I thought you might have been faking it when I kicked you that time. SORRY!


Deena hits Walker hard across the face with the hard plastic meal tray, spilling French fries everywhere, drawing blood and knocking him to the floor...


PILGRIM: Sorry! Sorrry! I thought you might have heat vision! SORRY!

BADGER: Hey, is that Walker over there bleeding on the floor, Larry?

SAVAGE DRAGON: Stop calling me Larry.

NEXUS: Man, this is my lamest cameo ever.

Walker is at his desk, holding photos of the crime scene with his newly-bandaged hand when an excited Deena approaches, carrying a stack of old comics.

WALKER Something…?

PILGRIM: I think I got it, Walker. We were thinking one of the victim's enemies took him down for revenge, but I've been doing some research…looka this stuff…see here? Look, here, the guy's an archaeologist, right? And he's with the WWII super-club…

WALKER Right, right, okay. So what are you…

PILGRIM: Just listen! Then, a few years later, he's a cop, right? Like us, but he's ALIEN. And his wife's a costume, too, same-o same-o. And now he's with the new super-club, with the heavy-hitters. So, now he's a museum curator, or pretending to be…

Walker, suddenly interested, takes a closer look at the comics…

PILGRIM: It gets worse. THEN, he's an alien cop, but suddenly, his home planet is this AWFUL place, and he's not married. His wife is just his partner, all of a sudden. Stay with me here.

WALKER You're saying…

PILGRIM: …and THEN, he's suddenly some sort of bird avatar! I mean, he don't even LOOK the same. It's like a completely different guy, weird eyes and shit…He went through that Zero Hour thing, and it's like BAM. Different guy, and now he doesn't know WHO he is…! Imagine waking up every couple years and your whole goddamn LIFE is different… Your wife is gone, you have no family, you don't know where you came from anymore…

WALKER: So he had Continuity Fatigue…

PILGRIM: Yeah, boy! Worst case of it the Doc's ever heard of! And the print guys found no other prints on the victim's anti-gravity belt, which was UNLOCKED. He took it off himself, six hundred feet up! He wasn't murdered…he's a SUICIDE, get it?

WALKER: Die with dignity, huh? Sounds right. Nice work, DETECTIVE.

Suddenly, Deena pulls out her gun and shoots Walker in the knee…




Huge YABS thanks to BENDIS for the support and for being a cool guy. Go read Powers! Then visit www.jinxworld.com for a list of BENDIS material. Then, look up "clitoris" in a dictionary, so you'll know what it is if some funky butt kid asks you!

- Gail

You'll All Be Sorry! is a satire published by Comic Book Resources, and is not intended maliciously. CBR has invented all names and situations in its stories, except in cases when public figures are being satirized. Any other use of real names is accidental and coincidental, or used as a fictional depiction or personality parody (permitted under Hustler Magazine v. Fallwell, 485 US 46, 108 S.Ct 876, 99 L.Ed.2d 41 (1988)). CBR makes no representation as to the truth or accuracy of the preceeding information.

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