The Crusades #18 (October 2002)

I used to play this game as a kid in the shared urinals at school.

Did anybody else call pissing at the same time with a friend "Criss cross"? I can't remember when we grew out of peeing with each other, my cousins and I, but it had to be at a really young age. The last time I remember pissing in a toilet at the same time as a friend was at my cousin's wedding reception in 2000. And that was mostly a non-consensual game of Criss Cross because I had to pee super badly but my friend Upright muscled his way into the bathroom to try to get in before me and we just wound up pissing at the same time in a single bowl. In a better story, this would have wound up in hot sex. But instead it just wound up with me being irritated with him!

I put in the caveat of "the last time I remember" because I have been black out drunk on a few occasions. Maybe more than I realize because, you know, black out drunk. The only reason I believed anybody about the first time I got black out drunk was because there was forensic evidence left over. No, not that kind, you perv. I mean, close to that kind! The way I'd remembered the night was that I felt like I had to puke so I got up from my bed where I was sitting, made my way out the door, up the steps, outside, and puked. But my friends were all, "No, no. On the way, you made out with your Christina Applegate poster." And I was all, "I did not, you liars! I hate you all!" But then I looked at the poster and there were disgusting slobber marks all over it and I was all, "Who did this? Why are you trying to frame me? What else happened that I don't remember?" Nobody answered and they all awkwardly looked away and walked out and never spoke to me again. So I guess, right in front of everybody, I fucked my refrigerator too? Who needed those friends anyway! Good riddance!

Feeling that my first story ended too tamely, I needed to punch that one up a bit. I didn't lose any friends that night and I don't think I fucked a fridge. But I did discover The Cure's Disintegration later that day and wept horribly for hours, heartbroken because I knew the girl I had a huge crush on for years didn't fucking love me. My fault, really! Billy Joel had told me to constantly tell her about it like a desperate Terrier yapping away day and night to make sure she knew how I felt and I never did that because I was satisfied that she had a crush on me too. But of course that crush died because I didn't follow Billy's advice! Stupid, stupid, stupid!

The best part of that party was finding Taco Bell behind my television the next day! Free who-knows-how-long-its-been-at-room-temperature Taco Bell! Score! Later my friend Larry told me he left his Taco Bell hidden in my room and I had to admit that some jerk must have eaten it. Larry killed himself 25 or so years later. I'm sorry, Larry. I hope it wasn't because of my lies and Taco Bell cravings.

I should make one of those Family Circus maps with a layout of my mom's house where that party was thrown and a dotted line showing my journey from the bed to the upstairs toilet where I ultimately passed out for a few hours. It would go in concentric spirals from my bed to my Christina poster. Then out the door, up the stairs, and off toward the bushes where I threw up a bit while my friends yelled, "Noot!", every time I went, "Arrragggaaaarrraagggh" (sound of throwing up), because they were huge Arnold Schwarzenegger stalkers and my noise and their noise made his name, I guess?. Then the line would go up the outside back stairs, probably bouncing off the railing a few times and into the back door where I collapsed on the kitchen floor for several minutes, and slurred goodbye to some guests like Lisa and the mythical Greg, her huge crush for so many years. I passed out there for a bit before I needed to throw up again and staggered into my mom's bedroom (she was out for the weekend!) where I interrupted my best friend and my sister's friend with the platinum hair and a penchant for Coors Light whose name I can't remember but we all had huge crushes on. They scattered like cockroaches caught trying to fuck each other while I went up the half-stairs to the master bedroom, threw up in bowl, and passed out for who knows how long. There may have been more steps that I don't remember (black out!) and which nobody witnessed or told me about.

My best friend was actually grateful that I cock-blocked him because his girlfriend showed up at the party not long after. Don't worry! His girlfriend dumped his ass not long after that because he was cheating on her with her manager. She has gone on to have a really fucking awesome life, according to her Facebook posts, and she's as gorgeous as ever. I love my best friend from high school still to this day but man he fucked up. I thank him for keeping his cheating to himself (until after the relationship was over) so I never felt compromised by his stupid actions. I'd known his girlfriend since elementary school and I might have had to punch him in the dick if I'd known.

Christ. Should I start this review over? Who's editing this shit?! Time for a song lyric!

The only Shakespeare quote I know is from King Lear: "Out, vile jelly!"

That caption was obviously a lie. I have a literature degree! I know more Shakespeare than is good for anybody! Whenever I do anything stupid, I'm always, "When you shall these unlucky deeds relate, speak of me as I am! Nothing extenuate, nor set down aught in malice. Then must you speak of one who loved not wisely, but too well; of one not easily jealous, but being wrought, perplexed in the extreme!" And whenever some small and insignificant hurdle manages to crop up in my daily life, I'm always all, "To be or not to be!" And every time I'm about to murder somebody, I'm always all, "Is this a dagger I see before me, the handle toward my hand?" But mostly I just go around poking people in the eye and saying my favorite King Lear quote as I do it. They usually laugh and say, "That was a good one!", after they're done screaming and getting medical attention.

I know I used pretty common Shakespeare examples for knowing more Shakespeare than is good for anybody because I haven't really read any Shakespeare in over a decade. I probably could have done something by Falstaff or that bit at the end of The Tempest where Puck is all, "If we shadows have offended" or when Macbeth goes on and on about tomorrow and the next day and the day after that. I used to know quite a bit of Malvolio's lines from Twelfth Night because I played the part in one of my classes. That Othello quote I used earlier I used to know complete because it reminded me so much of Stephen King's final paragraph in Cujo. Together, they're all, "Yeah, yeah. Me and this dog did some pretty bad shit. But neither of us wanted to! He had rabies and I was fooled by a big jerk and my lack of trust in the woman I loved! We're basically the same!"

Oh fuck. Yeah, yeah. The comic book! Right! Let's go!

So, "The Past is Prologue." That's a pretty good, if mundane, observation by a guy who made a lot of pithy and profound observations about human interactions with each other. The idea should make the present really pop; it centers it nicely. Now your past isn't wasted years or youthful mistakes; it's the story that needed to be told so the present story could unfold with all the pertinent information at hand. Like knowing that I have a literature degree and sometimes drink to excess! That's prologue for why I'm now writing biographical blog posts tarted up as comic book reviews! Alcohol plus college equals knows how to waste time effectively!

This issue begins in that centered present with Venus working Medieval Times. We have all the information we need to know what got her to this moment so that we can fully understand the last three issues of this series!

Venus has become an SCA nerd.

Whenever I see any incel complaining about not being able to get fucked online, I just think, "Join the Society of Creative Anachronisms, dumbass." That shit is full of the horniest nerds I've ever met. Of course, if you're going to be a self-pitying asshole sitting around doing next to nothing like usual but now dressed in medieval garb, it might not get you laid. The thing about the SCA is that the people in it fucking do shit. They do creative shit that's useful and impressive and makes other people think, "I would love to fuck that guy who makes that armor" or "I would love to fuck that gal who designs that jewelry" or "I would love to have an orgy with that couple that makes the tennis ball arrows for our battles at the next post-Court revelry!" Hell, maybe you don't even need to know a skill! The first time I ever saw somebody Lara Croft was visiting this guy who made medieval garments for the SCA. When we got to the house, we walked through the darkened living room where his greasy boyfriend was playing Tomb Raider. The guy who made the clothes was vivacious and friendly and really fucking excellent at what he did. I guess his boyfriend who never said a word to me, even when I sat in the dark and watched him, must have had a huge cock.

I know that look on Venus's face. That's the look of a woman who has discovered the power of being worshiped by clammy virgin nerds full of desperate sexual longing! Sometimes you just want to lusted after people whom you know can't satisfy you and, because of that knowledge, they aren't cocky assholes who expect you to trip all over yourself getting their masterful dickwork in you.

Later at combat practice, Venus shows off her new sword skills by beating Duane of the Shire, a man never bested in combat!

So desperate, so virginal.

When Venus gets home, she's attacked by Anton Marx who seems to think sexually assaulting a woman as she enters her dark apartment makes for some good foreplay. She smashes the shit out of him with her duffel bag full of Godfrey's armor and throws him out letting him know that not only does she have two new jobs that have nothing to do with fact checking his shitty articles but she also has three new guys willing to fuck her. She doesn't need Anton in the slightest at this point.

Readers are reminded that The Pope is still about trying to launch the casino where the New Jerusalem School was. Does this comic book have time for more of that story arc? Did Seagle know he only had three issues left when he began writing this issue?

Venus has begun carrying her duffel bag of armor everywhere she goes so she can quickly pop in an alley, change, and scare any douchebags she comes across. While the knight was intent on killing violent assholes, Venus has decided to put arrogant pricks in their place. After fucking up a jerk's car for parking in a handicapped space and running off some vandals, she finds her way back underground to search for Cela and Godfrey. It's been several days since the earthquake (enough time for Venus to have found the waitressing job and learned how to use a sword better than the best swordsman in the SCA but not too much time so that Cela and Godfrey have starved or died of thirst!). She manages to find Cela and Godfrey both still alive.

Did I say Venus had three other dicks sniffing around her front bottom? Make that four.

This is where the story ultimately had to wind up: Venus stepping into the position of the knight to ensure her own safety in The City and the safety of the less fortunate, like Cela and that wall that was getting spray-painted. She has the ability to bring the morality and ethics of being a knight into the 21st Century. It's just one more way to prove that she doesn't need a man, specifically, in this case, Detective Petronas. Who, by the way, is turning into her #1 antagonist as of this issue since his boss thinks the knight might still be out there and if the knight is, Petronas will lose his promotion. I guess that's the main conflict at this point! So the climax of the story will be Petronas finding out and Venus turning down his proposal.

The Crusades #18 Rating: B. There's a new sheriff in town and she's got a much better ass than the last one. Hopefully Godfrey remains unable to patrol the city since he's a violent maniac. Venus just goes around putting assholes in their place and making them shit themselves. That's the kind of justice San Francisco really needs! I didn't mention that Detective Petronas suspects that Venus may have more to do with the knight than she's let on. Although I don't know that there will be time to deal with that in two more issues. What I want for the last two issues is for nothing serious to happen and just allow Venus to move Godfrey and Cela into her apartment with her while she fucks her way through the ranks of the SCA. That's not too much to ask for, is it?