#they can read everyone like a book. except one another. comedy fields cancelling each other

[need-a-new-hobby]

About Face

Erasmus wrote, what else is the whole life of mortals but a sort of comedy, in which the various actors, disguised by various costumes and masks, walk on and play each one his part, until the manager waves them off the stage? 

Prentiss, Morgan and Bishop were the earliest ones there that morning. Morgan had brought in donut holes and Piper took the jammy delicacies, catapulting them successively into his jaw. The 7th one in a row earned a cheer from everyone except Prentiss who had her eye caught by something entering the bullpen between shots. Piper missed her next shot as she focused on the figure drawing up behind Morgan as he ‘grooved‘ in victory. The outline of Frankenstein hovered above Derek’s ear before yelling at the top of his lungs.

“Jesus, Reid.” Derek took a deep breath as Emily and Piper laughed.

“Happy All Hallows Eve folks! To paraphrase from Celtic mythology, tomorrow night all order is suspended, and the barriers between the natural and the supernatural are temporarily remooooved!”

“That right there’s why I hate Halloween.”

“Amen,” Piper held out her hand that Derek slapped, laughing at the sheer outrage on Spencer’s face.

“Why?”

“It creeps me out.”

“You’re scared?!” Piper looked at him shocked.

“I didn’t say I was scared, I said it creeps me out.”

“Pipes, why don’t you like Halloween?” Emily switched the conversation, easily catching the voodoo doll Spencer threw to her.

“I just don’t. What creeps you out about Halloween, Derek?”

“I don't know. People wearing masks. I don't like folks in disguises.”

“What?” Reid exclaimed. “That’s the best part about Halloween! You can be anyone you wanna be.”

“Nah, I'm pretty good just being me.”

“Why is it that none of those views surprise me?” Emily scoffed, returning to her stack of paperwork.

“You know what, though? On the flip side, it does provide a pretty good reason to cozy up with a scary flick and a little halloween honey.” Derek clicked his tongue and shot a finger gun at Emily.

“Derek, I think you somehow made Halloween worse. So, thanks.” Piper jammed the last donut hole in her mouth before returning to her desk adjacent to Reid’s.

“Guys, he’s here.” Reid whispered excitedly.

“Who’s here?” Piper asked, smoothing out her hair immediately. She watched an ageing man walk in behind a marching Erin Strauss up to Hotch’s office, glancing at Reid smilingly at the getup. Reid hastily took of the mask as the rest of the team watched the man disappear into Hotch’s office. “Who’s he?”

“The lord and saviour of criminal profiling. David Rossi. Sold millions of books.” Reid answered as he pulled the noose over his head, draping it over Piper. She pulled it off immediately, discarding it on her desk. 

“You know that Frankenstein was the doctor, not the green monster, right? Mary Shelley used him as a vessel in which to explain the repercussions of scientific innovation that doesn’t consider moral or ethical practices...” She trailed off from her conversation as Hotch approached them with Rossi. 

“Team, meet SSA David Rossi. Dave, this is SSA Emily Prentiss, SSA Derek Morgan.” He paused to let him shake hands with the two agents before letting Piper introduce herself. 

“Hi, Dr Piper Bishop, this is Dr Spencer Reid.”

“Good to meet you.”

“Sir, if I could talk to you later about your work with the Scarsdale skinner. Psycho-linguistics is an incredibly dynamic field, and the fact that your profile of his reading habits ultimately led to his capture is something I find so incredibly intrig-”

“Reid, slow down. He’ll be here a while and JJ’s waiting for us.” Piper hid a small smile as she followed Emily, with the boys behind her, Derek playfully slapping Spencer. 

They sat in the conference room, going through the case. One woman, brutally murdered and sexually assaulted with missing posters stuck up in her own house and a mask with the word “One” etched on it in blood. As the body flashed onto the screen and Piper flinched, Penelope walking in at the same time. She yelled, pulling her file in front of her face. “Dear god, what is that?”

“Technical analyst, Penelope Garcia, this is SSA David Rossi.”

“Is it gone, JJ?” Penelope quickly greeted the older agent and left apologising profusely. Until she came back in to hand Hotch the file she came in for. 

Piper smiled as she listened to Reid’s explanation of the false face mask and Emily’s preliminary identification of the killer as a textbook sadist. Having covered the case, Hotch dismissed them all, telling them to meet at the jet.

^-^

Spencer moped as he perused through the files. Piper threw hers on the table. “Okay, Reid, spill. What’s wrong?” Emily raised an eyebrow in piqued interest.

“Nothing, I just had plans tonight.”

“For Halloween, I presume.”

“Yeah, I had tickets to the original Dracula.”

“If it makes you feel any better, the way Halloween is celebrated today has no historical merit to it.”

“I may regret asking this,” Emily started, “But what do you mean?”

“Well, like Spencer said this morning, All Hallows’ Eve was the last day where spirits could take vengeance on their enemies, so to protect themselves, the people in both colonial America and England would disguise themselves and in France, they’d visit the graves of their lost loved ones with dishes of milk. Similarly, in Italy, some families left a large meal out for ghosts of their passed relatives. And now, it’s known as the day when kids eat too much candy and dress up as anything they want.”

“So you didn’t have plans?”

“Nah, I had to cancel my ticket to Macbeth. They wouldn’t even compensate the ticket.”

“Damn,” Morgan said sardonically and Piper shoved him.

“Children, behave.” Hotch scolded. “Let’s take a look at victimology.” He beckoned at Rossi to join them. JJ stood with her cup of coffee, silently observing her team and their newest member discuss the case. 

“So, we know there’s some kind of fixation with the face. He asks ‘Have you seen me?‘ on the fliers and he then removes the face of our victim.” Morgan says, turning to their resident geniuses to fill in the blanks.

“Well, often times throughout literature, faces are often linked with the pretences people pander to in modern society. In fact, an iconic line from TS Eliot is about preparing a face to meet the faces that you meet. In Roman mythology, Janus is the god with two faces, which incidentally has nothing to do with being two-faced. He’s more about the duality between right and wrong, between the future and the past.”

“The point, Bishop?” Morgan huffed.

“Sorry. The point being that betrayal is often linked with faces. Maybe the unsub feels betrayed by this woman.”

“So, we’re looking for a personal link?”

“I’d say so,” Reid agreed. “The mask could be a symbol the unsub attaches to betrayal.”

“Interesting,” Rossi muttered, eyes focused on his notebook.

“Something to add, Dave?” Hotch looked towards his old friend. He simply shook his head and Emily shrugged before delving into Michelle Colucci’s life. She was single, lived alone, no boyfriend and no ex-husband. She was an architect. Friends and co-workers said she was a class workaholic, a loner who rarely went out of the house. So she's extremely low risk.

“The guy was either a stalker or knew her personally.”

“Do we get a list of all the people in her life? Can we rule out a gender?”

“Females are almost never this violent to another female.”

“You clearly haven’t watched the Kardashians.” Piper scoffed at Morgan.

“What’s the Kardashians?” Reid asked quietly.

“You don’t want to know,” Piper muttered back darkly, trauma evident in her eyes. Spencer raises his eyebrows and returns to the case as she got up to make a cup of tea. 

^-^

Bishop hated disposal sites. Finding the body of a woman they couldn’t save unsettled her. Gave her a responsibility to make sure she didn’t die in vain. She saw the same pain in Rossi as they trudged through the greenery towards the river. She faintly heard the conversation between Rossi and Reid and she felt her boots squish through the quagmire. “Dr. Reid, do we still keep all the old files in the fourth floor storeroom?” 

“I think some are up there. You know, most of our information's on computer now.” 

“Right.” 

“Have you had a chance to go through our data since you've been back?” 

“Not yet.” 

“You'll be amazed. The original team-- I mean, you interviewed something like, uh, 45 serial killers, right?”

“Something like.”

“Today we have interviews with over 1,000 offenders. Serial killers, child abductors, sex offenders-- I'll go through it with you sometime if you like, answer any questions--”

“Sounds good.” They came to a halt and stood in the shade over the river. Rossi walked along the side of it, thinking out loud. He reminded Piper of Gideon, but something was different. “Water. Obliterates a body... Destroys evidence. But you weren't in the water that long, were you, Michelle? She had rocks tied to her to weigh her down. She floated to the surface before there was any other damage. Just what was done to her already.”

Back at the precinct, Piper entered the station with a tray of coffee cups, Rossi sat in a corner scribbling in his notebook. Reid flicked through security footage as Hotch and JJ marched back in. “We got anything?” He looked directly at David, who stopped scribbling but revealed nothing else. “Agent Rossi pointed out that since the victims were weighted down, it suggests the unsub didn't want them found. It suggests some sort of connection between them.”

“Maybe he thought he was saving them for himself, or he was trying to spare their dignity. Either way, he feels connected to this woman.” Piper said, handing JJ her hazelnut coffee. An officer from the department approached the lead detective, informing him about the woman waiting to speak with them. They heard Enid White’s voice break over the line as she gave them the address she was hiding out in. Except the room in the motel was empty, save for the dozen missing posters on the desk. Piper held a poster in her gloved hand.

“I can hear your gears clicking from waay over here Pipes. What you got?” Emily asked from the corner of the room.

“The pictures.” Piper murmured, glancing over at Emily before whipping out her cell to call Garcia.

“Your queen awaits her audience.” Piper couldn’t help smiling.

“Well, your Majesty, the pictures on these missing persons posters look kind of grainy and I think he tried to use some photo-editing software. Any magic in those fingers, my most ardent monarch?”

“I shall be with you forthwith.”

“I anticipate your communication with utmost fidelity. Piper out.” She switched off her cell, disposing it in her pocket, then glanced at Emily’s raised eyebrow. “I’ve been reading a lot of Romantic literature this week. Trying to offset Reid’s Halloween spirit.“

“Yeah, why don’t you like Halloween?”

“A woman’s missing Em. You really wanna talk about this?”

“Don’t try to guilt me. How did Halloween hurt you?” Piper swiped her tongue across her lip, checking to see if anyone with even a semblance of professionalism was near.

“Every Halloween, my siblings always wanted to go trick-or-treating. My father never bought us costumes either nor the materials to make them.” She sighed, carding her hand through her hair. “So I’d use the money I earned from my job down at the coffee shop to buy body paint and pirate hats. And my mom would always cover us. One year, Danny left the group and I couldn’t find him. I dropped Lucy home and searched all night. Turned out he stayed back at this kid’s house because he didn’t want to come home. Said he liked Halloween so much because he could be a Cyberman instead of being Daniel Bishop, son of Detective Leo Bishop. Except the night was so cold that he got the flu. My father pinned it all on me for entertaining their petty desires. I blame Halloween because it’s easier to blame the day than myself or my father.” Emily was silent, probably because she wasn’t expecting something so personal. 

“I think that’s the beauty of Halloween. The escape from boredom. Maybe Daniel wanted to escape being a detective’s son and just be a kid. And if anything, you helped in that.” Piper gave Emily a grudging smile before leaving the house. 

At the precinct, Piper grasped her tea in one hand, tapping her fingers on the table as Morgan started to deliver the profile. “There's a sophistication and patience in what this unsub does that suggests a level of maturity. We believe this puts his age in the mid-30s to 40s range.”

“Michelle Colucci was taken from the primary crime scene and disposed of at the tertiary crime scene 4 days later.” Reid continued. “That means she was held somewhere for at least 3 days. You can't really just hold a victim anywhere for days on end, so he most likely has access to a house of some kind.” 

“And he's also fairly tech savvy,” Morgan pointed out. “The fliers were made on a computer. And it's probable that he used a device to intercept Enid White's phone call.” 

“Witnesses in Ms White's neighbourhood say they may have seen a white man putting up fliers, but none of them could describe him, even with all the media attention this case has received,” Hotch elaborated. 

“Great.” A detective scoffed.

“Actually, what that tells us is that there is absolutely nothing remarkable about this man. He is exceedingly average,” Prentiss communicated. “As you said, Detective Yarbrough, average height, average build.” 

“It extends to his professional life as well,” Bishop continued. “He most likely works in a field where he doesn't stand out, doesn't really make a mark.” 

“His lack of distinction is part of his psychopathy. We have hundreds of interactions with people every day. Most of those involve someone overlooking someone else,” Reid added. 

“Most of us don't pay any attention to being ignored, but to this kind of unsub, each oversight is intentional. Especially when it comes from his object of sexual desire. He begins to obsess over her until she's all he can think about. And the rage builds until he has to attack that person,” Hotch finished.

“So he's pissed off that nobody notices him?” the lead detective asked sardonically.

“Have you seen me?” She recited. 

“Wait. That's not about the women?”

“No. The masks are about the women. He cuts off their faces, replacing them with an expressionless white mask, reducing them to a number. He’s transferring the pain of invisibility onto these women. It gives him a sense of power and the power can make him arrogant, but it doesn't make him notable.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means,” Hotch intervened, “He’ll contact us. Thus far, he’s wanted the police to see him. He isn't going public. Hopefully, by playing on his anger-” Hotch trailed off, glancing at the mask on the news channel. “JJ, how’d they get that?” JJ could sense the anger seeping into his voice.

“Hotch, I swear... I-I contacted all the local PDs and stressed withholding the information about the masks. I don’t know-” Piper heard JJ trail off as Rossi walked in with his notebook, glancing nonchalantly at the screen.

“Oh, I gave it to them.” Piper blinked. Derek stared. Spencer twitched his eyebrows and stared at the floor. Emily refused to make eye-contact as the team heard Hotch about to blow up.

“Dave, can I talk to you a minute?” As they left, Piper let out a breath.

“Hotch is gonna kill him,” Piper murmured to Derek.

“20 bucks he makes Rossi quit.” Piper slapped his outstretched hand.

“You’re on.” She hid her smile gracefully behind her cup of tea as she returned to her perch on the table.

^-^

“Why would you do that?” Hotch gritted his teeth as he asked the senior agent politely.

“It'll make him contact us. He's screaming for it.” 

“We aren't prepared.” 

“Prepared?”

“We need to set up a trap and trace.” 

“Trap and trace? They never stay on the phone long enough for that.” 

“Dave, they're a lot faster than they used to be. We also need to prep the detective on what to say to him.” 

“He's not gonna want to talk to the detective. He's gonna want to talk to the FBI.” 

“We don't step over the local police like that.” 

“They called us in.” 

“Yes, but if the perception is that we're to embarrass the locals by telling the media that we're gonna fix things, then they'll stop calling us.” Hotch tried to explain.

“Relax, hotch. I've got this.”

“You see, that's the problem, dave. There is no I. We function as a team.” 

“I've been doing this before you were out of high school, probably before the rest of your team was in school at all.” 

“I know that. Things have changed.” 

“The bells and whistles changed. An unsub is still an unsub, and I know how to deal with an unsub.” 

“No, Dave, it's not just that.” Their argument was short-lived as JJ interrupted them, telling them that Garcia found something. 

As they came back outside, Rossi was confused by Piper’s outstretched hand and Derek’s reluctant $20 bill exchange. There was a lot to learn about this team. In their small space, they gathered around the conference table as Rossi stood staring at their crime board.

“Michelle Colucci recently drew up the plans for a remodel of 3 floors of a company called Techco Communications. It's a high-tech communications company in downtown Dallas.”

“And Enid White?” Derek asked.

“Worked there until 2 months ago.”

“Thanks, sugar plum.” Piper looked up as the detective walked in, alerting them to their unsub on line 2, demanding to speak with the FBI.

Rossi looked at Hotch. Hotch looked at Rossi. Piper stared at the landline, determined not to make eye contact with either. Rossi pressed the phone and introduced himself. As the unsub whispered through the phone to Rossi, Rossi raised his voice higher.

“You won't inspire fear, you'll inspire hatred and ridicule, because the only power someone like you has is a mask, and once that mask is removed, you'll be as insignificant as you've always been-- a loser!”

Piper’s eyes widened and Derek’s eyebrow hovered upwards. Silence followed as the group waited for the response.

“You just signed Enid White’s death warrant.” The line went dead as Hotch and Rossi’s eyes sparred over the last few minutes. Derek slapped the table as he got up from the group and Piper chewed on her bottom lip. Spencer stared at his shoes until Hotch told them to gear up to catch this son of a bitch. A few minutes later, Piper sat uncomfortable next to Rossi in the back of Hotch’s SUV, wishing to God she was with anyone else. 

“Lieutenant, I need you to lock the techco building down tight. Nobody in, nobody out. It's vital.” Hotch turned off the radio, slipping it onto the dashboard before turning to Rossi. “Rossi, you really think the unsub's still gonna be there after that call?”

“Of course. He thinks he has all the time in the world.” 

“You think they got an image off of the police security camera yet?” Piper asked them, trying to diffuse the situation.

“The security camera doesn't work. I lied about that,” Rossi confessed, causing Piper to mentally throw up her hands and resume her gaze out the window. 

“You lied about that?” Hotch exclaimed, eyes still on the road. There was definitely anger in his tone now.

“He doesn't know.” 

“Dave, that was incredibly reckless.”

“Hotch, he didn't weigh the body down well.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“He didn't want Michelle found so quickly. He screwed that up. This kind of guy, when he plans something, if he has the time, if he's in control, he's meticulous. But being on the edge of the river, out in the open, he was not in control. He was in a hurry, and he made a mistake,” Rossi explained in his silky voice. 

“That's what you're hoping.” 

“Trust me. With an unsub like this, you need to throw him off his game. His hand needs to be forced.” 

“I know that, Dave, but the point is, you did it by forcing ours.” Piper crossed and uncrossed her leg, begging to be closer to the building. 

Her prayers were soon answered and she rushed towards Derek and the others. The group walked in to the building, Piper’s hand instinctively went near her gun. She relaxed as she felt Spencer standing near her. “Michelle remodelled levels 7, 8 and 9. Morgan, take 7. Prentiss, 8, Reid and Bishop take 9. We’ll be here in the lobby. We're looking for a rank-and-file employee who made a scene in the last 20 minutes or was here and gone.” Prentiss had no luck as did Morgan. Bishop and Reid reported back to Hotch that they found his desk. Reid started rummaging through the desk, looking for any type of clue while Piper connected the laptop to Garcia. 

“Spence!” Piper called to him, pointing to Michelle’s poster. She flipped open her cell, reporting him. They rushed downstairs through the elevator, Piper tapping her foot as she stared at the silver doors, pulling her gun out. 

Reid mulled over what had happened as he sat next to the young agent in the ambulance. He should have done something. He should have stepped out first, or pulled her back. Instead, Piper lay in the ambulance, a bullet lodged in her shoulder, wincing as she gripped Spencer’s hand. “Jesus, they don’t show this bit in movies.” She tried to breathe, her shirt stained with blood.

“Stop talking.”

“You know better than to tell me that Spence. I’m just glad I wore a dark shirt today. No idea how I’m gonna get the blood out.” She winced harder this time, cursing herself for the whimper she let out. Stop it. The guy holding your hand was tortured. You got shot in the shoulder. Stop your whinging.

“Just relax, please.” Piper felt her eyes closing, the pain unbearable. She tried to chuckle but all that came out was a grimace.

“Try to talk to me like I’m gonna live, Reid. Give me one of those statistics on shoulder gunshot wounds.”

“39,773 persons died from firearm-related injuries in the United States.” She slapped his arm weakly.

“Good statistics, Dr. Reid. Good statistics,” she murmured.

“Out of almost 400 million, Dr. Bishop. Not even 1%.” But her eyes had already closed and Spencer felt his eyes water as he pressed her hand to his lips. He imagined what she would’ve said.

“What happened to the sheer amount of germs that can be exchanged through hands?” She’d joke.

“It’s safer to kiss, remember.” He’d retort.

He watched helplessly as she was rushed into surgery and he raised his cell to his ear. “Yeah, they took her into surgery...Good. Thanks.” 

To be continued...

[mondofunnybooks]

'THANOS'S GRANDAUGHTER: GO SUCK EGGS GRANDPA!' DEPT.

'The title means exactly what the words say: NAKED Lunch - a frozen moment where everyone sees exactly what is on the end of every fork.'

-William Burroughs, from the foreword notes for the novel 'Naked Lunch'.

THE GATEKEEPERS!

As may not possibly surprise you lot, we've run afoul of some of the more humourless elements of fandom in our time. This is probably down to the fact that we don't take superhero comics very seriously but are utterly enamoured of some of the more sillier elements of history. True story. We were once told off by a man in Green Lantern fangroup (We were bored.) because we thought that the origin of Kyle Rayner is so nakedly Freudian and 'Will this do?' to be hilarious.

To recap:

On a planet called Oa exists a race of short, bald humanoids with large heads called The Guardians. The Guardians believe in enforcing Order in the universe and go about this by way of selecting the most suitable candidate (called a Green Lantern.) of each sector of the universe to be given a power ring that does whatever the wearer can imagine. This ring had no effect on anything yellow due to a necessary flaw in the design to stop the wearer from having absolute power. Also, it has to be recharged every 24 hours.

Our sector of the universe is 2814, and of the 7200 Lanterns patrolling the universe at any given time, ours was a chap called Hal Jordan. Very strong-willed, very daring. Hal got the ring off an alien called Abin Sur who was on his way to give either him or a ginger bloke with a Moe haircut called Guy. Hal happened to be closer than Guy, so got the ring.

Hal Jordan went onto be a successful Green Lantern for several years but things went terribly wrong when a big yellow space tyrant called Mongul, teaming with a cyborg pretending to be Superman destroyed Hal's home of Coast City, murdering tens of thousands of people and left Hal shattered, feeling he'd failed in his duty as Earth's protector.

The loss of everything Hal cared about sent him insane, and he attempted to resurrect his destroyed home using the power ring, but he could only achieve a replica of what he'd lost and the ring wasn't designed to create that much matter for a presumably infinite period of time. His perceived second failure cemented his full breakdown, and he went on a murderous rampage in order to gather as many Green Lantern rings as possible on the way to returning to Oa is seize the original Green Lantern ring. Things go quite wrong as Hal murders the entire Lantern Corp and all but one of the Guardians: Ganthet.

Ganthet, a wee blue fella cosplaying as Orko off the He-Man cartoons pegs it back to Earth. Once there, he floats to L.A., sees a drunk bloke taking a piss against a wall and gives him the final power ring before sodding off, exclaiming 'The Ring will sort you, mate. No worries.'

A BLUE SPACE MIDGET IN A RED DRESS GIVES A DRUNK LAD ONE OF THE MOST POWERFUL WEAPONS IN THE UNIVERSE AND THEN FUCKS OFF IS THE ORIGIN OF KYLE RAYNER, GREEN LANTERN OF EARTH.*

This would be weird as a 1960's comic but at least the DC Editors of the '60s had no idea any of this stuff would be reprinted and pored (Hi, Donald.) over by future generations. Supergirl is having a relationship with a fella who turns into her horse but she doesn't know about it? Fine. There's a space creature from the fifth dimension who has a real thing for winding up Superman every ninety days and can only be stopped by tricking him into saying his name backwards? Gotcha. Batman owns a dog who fights crime but wears a mask on patrol so no one will link Ace The Bat-Hound with Bruce Wayne. Of COURSE. Beppo The Super-Monkey? PRINT IT! Who will care in five years? Who will even remember, right?

Green Lantern 50 (2nd series, 1994) was published post Watchmen, post Dark Knight Returns, post Brat Pack and all of the other silly 'Corporate Superheroes Can Be For Adults' malarkey. We were now aware of subtext, metaphor, aspirational text and either this is a daft attempt at being a mature comic (which given it features a nervous breakdown, genocide, the total psychological breakdown of one of the icons of the DCU and the first example of 'Fridging' quite soon after, it ought to be.) or it's a very bad attempt at pitching a superhero comic at the kids.

The real answer was of course that DC were trying to get attention back they'd lost to the Marvel Superstar period and subsequent formation of Image. Superman grew a mullet, Batman needed a wheelchair and was replaced with a religious nutter wearing Vatican levels of gold, Wonder Woman was replaced with a giant legged redhead, The Flash broke his leg. It was all kicking off.

But we always found the whole Kyle thing hilarious, and when making our usual jokes about it ('Good thing Ganthet didn't run into Richard Pryor!', etc.) we were scolded. It turns out the story had been rewritten a bit as part of something called Green Lantern: Rebirth so it made a bit more sense. Lord knows some of our best friends are comic fans, but when they start quoting the continuity of a DC comic with capitals like they WERE reciting THE Bible and Geoff Johns DID make it GOOD, we get a bit scared.

All that was a recap of 5 comics. (Green Lantern 47-50 and Superman 80) and was almost impossible to recap straight. When we tried to give a factual, chronological accounting of these comics, we weren't capable of throwing in a few puns. And circa 1989-1993, nor were the staff of Marvel Year In Review.

When people try to contemplate the early 90's and Marvel, they think of Spider-Man 1, X-Force 1, X-Men 1. If you narrow the field down to Marvel Magazines, probably the movie adaptations, poster specials and most likely the BEAUTIFUL Marvel Illustrated Swimsuit Editions. Few will remember the spectacular Marvel Year In Review annuals. That's a shame, because with one notable exception* it was the last time they displayed an ability to take the mick out of themselves beside the better issues of John Byrne's run on She-Hulk or the comedy title 'What The--?!' (also canceled, sadly in 1993.).

Marvel Year In Review, in theory, was probably originally designed to be exactly that: A chronological overview of every comic published by Marvel over the previous 12 months. That sounds simple enough but can you imagine being the poor saps who not only have to read all those comics but attempt to sum them up as a factual synopsis. The work and time we just put into four issues of Green Lantern was murder and at least interesting things happened in those books. 'Hey, Dwight here's all of Acts Of Vengeance to work out, and see if you can explain what a Captain Universe is and why Spidey might become possessed by his powers, there's a pie in it for you. Barry, you got Atlantis Attacks.' Interns were probably diving out of the window at the sight of editor Bobbie Chase approaching them with a stack of Alpha Flight.

So rather than put out another dry, just the facts ma'am comic to sit along Marvel Age, The Offical Handbook Of The Marvel Universe or Marvel Preview, they changed gears. Marvel opted for a magazine format with covers emulating the likes of Time and later National Lampoon and sadly unnoticed New York-centric mag Spy. The early issues provided something of a review of the year but in journalistic form for some of the bigger events juxtaposed with pieces on 'Best and Worst Dressed' and ads for products like Damage Control, who would sort out your house if it'd been trashed in a fight between The Hulk and The Wrecker, a tourist ad for Latveria, posters for the new Simon Williams film or a flyer for the next Dazzler disco compilation. Long before Alex Ross painted every last rock on Ben Grimm's back, Marvel TYIR gave you an insight into what it would be like to be a resident of the Marvel Universe reading a 616 style issue of National Lampoon.

MYIR also ran interviews with various superheroes, (Including Rick Jones recounting the time he met Elvis, by far the best thing to come out of Infinity Gauntlet/War/Crusade.) a review of Nightcat's debut album, an appetite suppressant for Galactus, the 'Who Died This Year, Who Came Back From The Dead and Who Managed To Stay Dead' update, an expose of Genosha's tourist, a create your own 90's superhero name and origin generator (which turned out to be surprisingly accurate.) an account of two disenfranchised rival employees's visit to the Marvel Offices and ooh, loads more.

This is speculation on our part, but the knife gets a lot sharper around the 1992-1993 editions. The full chronology is written with a weary black humour of someone's who just seen too much and is getting bitter. The full-on assault on the 1993 annuals, certain top-tier artists 'showing their influences too clearly' and inadvertently predicting the future of more brutal and uncaring superhero comics in the article 'Bring On The Bad Guys' from MYIR 1993.

There's a huge shift in attitude and editorial policy in the next 12 months. Several publishers have gone bust, Tom Defalco is gone as Editor In Chief and replaced with 5 people in charge of various parts of the publishing line, turning Marvel into a series of little fiefdoms with varying degrees of co-operation between each other. We've just met Peter Parker's robot parents. Aunt May is about to die. Reed Richards is dead. Jim Wilson is dead. Legion resolves to kill Magneto. Dr Strange has an idea for something called 'The Secret Defenders'. Everything is about to get very serious and therefore far more ripe for parody.

And with no word, no goodbye from the editors, nothing in the fan press nor explanation, Marvel Year In Review 1994 was solicited thusly:

'Marvel Year In Review 1994 - Just the facts, ma'am. Gone is the tongue-in-cheek humor of the past; the Marvel Year in Review offers a factual recap of the major Marvel Universe events of 1994. It's short on lengthy text and long on splashy art and fact-filled sidebars. Included are all the happenings from the pages of X-Men, Spider-Man, Fantastic Four and Ghost Rider, plus art by Andy Kubert, Chris Bachalo, Tom Lyle and many others! $2:95. $4.00 CAN'

And it was. Normal comic size. No chatty opener from the editor with puns and gags. No angry letters from readers just wanting to know what happened in X-Force and wanting to be rid of the MODAM jokes. No ads. Not even, truth be told, much in the way of recaps so much as trade dress-less cover repros with dialogue quotes and a paragraph or two to cover the essential plot elements, finished with the most perfunctory 'Er, will this do?' appeal to the readers on the last page. Turns out that no, it wouldn't do at all, as there was no Marvel Year In Review 1995 or any other edition either.

Marvel has put out a few self-parody books since, such as Marvel RIOT!, House Of Hem, Marvel WHAT Now?, Who Won't Wear The Shield, Wha HUH? and obviously Deadpool crosses the lines frequently, but there's not been something that clever nor ambitious since. Perhaps the line between reader, writer and editor aren't as clear as they used to be or simply today's audience wouldn't be as immediately familiar with the formats being parodied and as the recent attempts to parody Marvel fanfiction have shown, sometimes an idea just belongs to its time. As a magazine that featured fun work by the likes of Todd McFarlane, Dan Slott, Sam Kieth, Peter David,  Kevin Maguire and a different angle on a world that takes itself a little bit seriously at times, Marvel Year In Review was a fun little ride while it lasted.

(Note to self. Never, ever look up Marvel fanfiction again. Ever.)

*This may be different now but was certainly the case in 1994. Origins, histories and such might have changed due to 52, Convergence and Rebirth. We were told that Flashpoint was the end of the DC Universe as we knew it, and we took that as a good place to stop reading. Except Section Eight and Batman/Elmer Fudd obviously.

Dedicated to the memory of Steve Ditko.(1927-2018)