Happy Fuzzy Warm Funtime Squad #7

How convenient that Harley Quinn blows up in such a way that I can still look down her top! Thanks, DC Comics! I wonder if the "DC" stands for Male Gaze? No wait. Those letters are different.

Welcome back, Kiddies! Happy Fuzzy Warm Funtime Squad is getting shit ratings, so we're going to change up the program. Like how I just said "shit." You kids are old enough to learn that sometimes the world spreads its cheeks and releases a flood of stinking diarrhea right into your face and shouting out words that make old people's anal sphincters pucker is the only way to feel any better. You also have to learn that when the money isn't rolling in, heads are going to roll. So empty your little fucking pockets and ante up for Mister Fuzzy, you got it? Chimps and Mopps will pass around the collection sack and if they don't see at least a few coins fall, you're gonna spend a few minutes in the dunk tank, you hear? And don't think it's going to be a happy fuzzy warm funtime in there because Chimps has been using it as an outhouse for the past two weeks.

I bet you're wondering why our ratings are falling, aren't you, you little shits? Well, it's a problem with the human condition, you see? Philosophically, we all like to think we're intellectually superior to the next bastard. But in reality, we're all just walking around on the verge of either crying, mentally breaking down, or bringing ourselves to orgasm for one brief moment of respite from the endless awful bleakness of existence. Most people don't want other people to see them in these moments. Most people want to avoid feeling in such a way that brings them to these moments. And the best way to do this is to stay distracted. And the best way to stay distracted is to engage in the most popular forms of entertainment. And the most popular forms of entertainment are sex and violence, sometimes together (unless you're in Germany). And guess what Happy Fuzzy Warm Funtime Squad has been lacking for several issues? That's right, Kiddies! Sex and violence!

I admit, there has been a little violence. But not enough! We want to see a recognizable super villain get his or her head blown off, don't we Kids?! Um, Kids? Stop looking so terrified, you little shits. Fucking cheer when Mister Fuzzy's voice raises to an exultant, jubilant fevered pitch and he throws his arms up in the air! You fucking got that?!

How about we watch some fucking cartoons while Mister Fuzzy takes a smoke break?

See Mister Deadshot pull his pee-pee out of his pants? See how it flips and flops around no matter how lovingly he caresses it? Poor Mister Deadshot! Deathstroke emotionally castrated him a few issues ago and now his gun just doesn't fire at all.

Oh no! See how the animators of this cartoon decided to go for a racist joke? Look at how fervently they enjoy their racism! "See how poorly Mister Red Goldstar flies!" they say! "Look at how he cannot fly straight at all because he is Chinese," they say! Boo! Hiss! Nobody supports your racist jokes, animators! We are all looking down our noses at you because statistically young, white males are the worst flyers! Probably. If that fact is wrong, then maybe you should not be relying on a children's show for your facts, Chuck Einstein.

Let me tell you a little story about maybe how the stereotype that Chinese drivers are horrible drivers may possibly have come about. Some years ago, your old pal Mister Fuzzy was trying to find work overseas. The kinds of circus acts I'm into aren't always "legal" here in the states. But China has some less than rigorous safety regulations, if you know who to bribe. So I was in Shanghai and let me tell you, Kiddies, you ain't probably never seen so many Goddamned people in all your life. Cars, cars, and more cars just trying to get from Point Yī to Point B. And the people! Holy fuck all of the people walking and on bikes! Well, you'd better believe that any point on the street where cars, people, and bikes all wanted to cross was going to be a fucking clusterfuck nightmare. If you had no balls at all, Kiddies, you weren't fucking making it to wherever the hell you wanted to go. So what did the pedestrians do? They just looked straight ahead and fucking went for it. Cars stopped and would never fucking go unless they just looked straight ahead and just fucking went. When the pedestrians chickened out, the cars went for awhile. Eventually some brave bastard would step out in front of the cars and force them to stop. And those brave bastards never once tried to make eye contact with the drivers. You make eye contact to see if you can go, you've already lost your chance. So it's just a day long game of chicken, pedestrians and drivers, just fucking hoping to get a chance to go. Meanwhile, bicyclists everywhere just kept fucking ringing those Goddamned bike bells! CHING CHING CHING! CHING CHING CHING! CHING CHING CHING!

Oh fuck you, Timmy! That wasn't meant to be racist, you little prick! That was the noise the fucking bells made! Yeah, you little creep? You know what your name is now, you shit? Timmy Dunktank! Let's hear it for little Timmy Dunktank, Kiddies! Clap you mother fuckers. Show Mister Dunktank some love as he's escorted to his new seat.

Let's get back to the Happy Fuzzy Warm Funtime Squad now! Where the fuck were they?

See Black Manta drive the Happy Fuzzy Warm Funtime Squad to one of China's biggest economical mistakes! "I am driving," says Black Manta. "The Chinese Superhero crashed into the ground," says Boomerang. "Do you think that is racist?" "Ouch! My knee is sore," says Reverse-Flash. "I am cuckoo for cocoa puffs! Being mentally ill is fun and funny!" says Harley Quinn and all of her fans fall instantly in love with her. "It is sad that she has changed costumes and is not being abused by The Joker," they say as they sigh in their pants and cry.

The Funtime Squad enters the brand new, never inhabited Chinese city of Metropolis. Yes, Kiddies! An exact replica of Superman's favorite city! I wonder what adventures they'll have here? Maybe The Parasite has decided to start living here and he will approach them and say, "I would like to be on the team because it looks like fun and it seems like, according to the roster I am looking at with my own eyes, it must be very safe because DC's editors will never give the go ahead to kill any of you!"

Ha ha! Look, Kiddies, look! Amanda Waller is eating food! "Mmm! I love to eat food! Maybe I will eat a lot of food and become fat!" says Amanda. "We hope so!" say her fans because they love fat Amanda Waller. But it is too late, fans. It is too late! Fat or skinny, Amanda Waller has already been ruined by making her a bad-ass fighter with many martial arts skills and gun skills and killing techniques known only by master ninjas who only pass on the secrets of their killing techniques just prior to being killed by their students practicing the techniques. Just because she is fat it does not make her the old Amanda Waller. That Amanda Waller garnered respect by being a strong willed, tough as nails, in your face leader. People feared her attitude and the hell she could put them through. This Amanda can kill and has. So when she says, "Jump high!", her followers say, "Please do not kill me!" That is not the same. That is very different.

Back in Chinese Metropolis, Red Goldstar finds the Happy Fuzzy Warm Funtime Squad and attacks! Pow! Bang! Such action, right Kiddies?! Raise your hands if you think somebody is going to die! Oh, put your cute little fucking hands down, you idiots. Maybe the final Man-Bat will die but that hardly counts. Unless it's Kirk Langstrom, it's just a fucking red shirt. We want to see one of the officers go down this episode! And there ain't no fucking Tasha Yar in this group!

While most of the team runs from Red Goldstar, Man-Bat attacks him. Of course he does! But why should he? Do Men-Bat not have any sense of self-preservation? Kids, the best thing you can have is a sense of self-preservation. You know those romantic ideas movies and television feed you about jumping in the path of a speeding car to shove a loved one out of the way? Nonsense! Let them get hit! What good does saving them do when you're dead? You don't get the satisfaction of knowing they lived! And now they have to live the life you supposedly couldn't live without them. You just resigned them to the hell that supposedly you were avoiding by saving their life! See how that kind of makes you a dick? Just let them get hit and then you can live with the misery and guilt. They're better off that way!

"I am a subtle critique of American military personnel," says the Man-Bat! "I am completely delusional," confesses Black Manta. "Put another shrimp on the Barbie. It's Australian for beer, Mate! That's a knife," stereotypes Boomerang.

All the team members decide to have some heart to heart conversations. That's part of being an adult, Kiddies! You're supposed to act interested in other adults. "Hello! I am an adult. You seem to be an adult as well! What is your occupation? Oh, that sounds interesting. I have always wanted to try that. You must enjoy it very much. I am dying to talk about the things that interest me but that would look rude so I must finish asking about you before we can talk about me which will hold my interest much better than this boring bullshit about your stupid life."

Reverse-Flash angers Harley by asking about The Joker. Harley makes more stupid faces and says The Joker sucks. But she doesn't really think that at all. I have seen the way she masturbates thinking about Mister J. Haven't I? Wasn't that in the Harley Quinn Valentine's Day Special? Was that my fanfic? Oh, I think it was. Do you want to hear my Harley Quinn masturbation fanfic, Kiddies?

What? Masturbation is where you manipulate your genitals until you reach orgasm. Women jerk off their clitoris. Men do the same thing but their clitoris is called a boner. It's all very messy and essentially unsatisfying. Don't get me wrong, Kiddies! It's more satisfying than sex with a partner. But still, it leaves one feeling empty, exhausted, and drained of Qi.

Oh, my fanfic! Thanks for reminding me, Sally.

"Harley Quinn sauntered dreamily down the corridor leading to the bathroom. She caught a glimpse of her evening lover as she abandoned her slippers haphazardly in the hall. "Oh, Mistah Showa Nozzle," she whispered, hooking her index fingers into her black and red cotton panties. "Oim jus' drippin' loike a seive fer ya!" Her panties dropped around her feet and she cupped her pudenda shyly, turning slightly so Mister Shower Nozzle couldn't get a decent look at her budding flower of fragrant womanhood. She slipped a finger between her engorged outer labia, sliding it slowly into and down along her love clam before pulling it back out. A long strand of love juice dangled from her finger and glinted in the light as she reached up to switch the shower head to pulse. "Oh, I am gonna show you such a good toime, Mista S!" Harley Quinn bent over to turn on the faucet, paused for a second to glance back and admire her full, pale buttocks in the bathroom mirror. "Oh, Mistah Soap on tha rope! Yer makin' me blush with that suggestion! Although my tender derriere longs fer it!" As she turned the faucet, she heard the familiar clanking and screaming and whining of the pipes and then one single blast of rusty, muddy water shot out of the faucet, splashing the pale white porcelain of her face and the tub. "Christ on a fucking Segway! Some plumba is about ta die!" Harley slipped her panties back on, marched into her bedroom, found her oversized mallet and went in search of a head to obliterate. As she slammed the front door, the shower nozzle, frustrated, quickly rubbed one out before falling asleep."

Stop crying, you stupid brats. That was fucking beautiful!

"See, Tess, see? Somebody died? Can you please go back to calling this comic book the Suicide Squad?" says the comic book formerly known as Suicide Squad. Tess glances down at his fingernails, carefully adjusts the gold threaded purple robe covering his muscular, naked body, and glances down from where he sits upon his ivory throne atop a pedestal of black onyx. He narrows his eyes and replies, "No."

Red Goldstar goes crazy after Man-Bat's head explodes in his face. Apparently he's suffering from post traumatic stress disorder from being born amidst the death of his siblings. Bah, get used to it, Red Goldstar. If you don't have traumatic stress from some previous life experience, you haven't been paying attention. Isn't that how that bumper sticker goes, kids? Kids? Why are you looking so shocked and horrified now?

Oh. Um, yeah. I guess Timmy Dunktank don't swim too well, does he? Somebody throw a blanket over the tank please? I still have quite a lot of comic book to get through yet and I can't do it with a bunch of mewling, crying kids distracting me.

Red Goldstar decides he doesn't want to be like Man-Bat or the rest of the Funtime Squad. He doesn't want to follow orders. He doesn't want to follow commands. He wants to be his own person. Yeah, yeah. Capitalism and Democracy are better than Communism and Communism. Hey, Sean Ryan? Next time you jerk off on me, can you try to not be so direct because I can't stand getting semen in my eyes. Okay? Thanks.

The Chinese Military open fire on Red Goldstar because they're told to kill and they don't have a conscience, apparently. So Red Goldstar gets blasted through the replica Daily Planet causing the Daily Planet world logo to plummet to the ground.

"Oh no! I am sure to die," says Harley Quinn. "Oh my! Aquaman is about to be smashed to pieces," gloats Black Manta. "Ha ha! Someone other than me is going to die," jokes Boomerang. "I am die!" dies Red Goldstar. "Good bye, Clown! You had a good run!" puns Reverse-Flash backwardly. "Gasp!" gasps the audience who believe that DC Comics is really willing to kill off their Cash Clown of Comics!

New Suicide Squad #7 Rating: +2 Ranking. I think I've been giving this comic book a hard time. With good reason, of course! But I thought this issue was fun and Victor Sage wasn't in it just confusing everybody, so that was good. Amanda blowing up Man-Bat's head was completely out of character and just vicious and mean. That was Sean Ryan writing Amanda as servant to the plot as oppose to writing her to her character. Maybe she's going crazy from eating too much Pulled Pork. Here is a great opportunity for Sean Ryan though! Red Goldstar really needs to join the team for a few issues before he's killed spectacularly. Maybe if that happens, I might think about changing the name of the commentary back to Suicide Squad. Or at least sticking "Suicide" somewhere in "Happy Fuzzy Warm Funtime."