In DC Comics' Identity Crisis by Brad Meltzer, we found out that members of the Justice League of America used unorthodox methods when dealing with some super-villains.
It made me wonder if things like that happened to other things from my youth.
And then I thought of McDonaldland.
You don't see much of it anymore, but it used to be that we got regular 30- to 60-second peeks into this strange land. I remembered watching them and even playing with the McDonaldland playset, complete with train.
But having seen some original McDonaldland commercials in recent years, I made a somewhat disturbing discovery.
Grimace, Ronald's number-two, uh, guy, wasn't always among the good forces of McDonaldland. He started off as The Evil Grimace. Not only that, but he used to have four arms.
Crime used to be more prevalent in this realm. You had The Evil Grimace, who went around stealing milkshakes, there's the Hamburglar, who (duh) stole hamburgers. The Fry Guys (originally the Gobble-ins) would pilfer your french fries if you didn't keep your eyes on them, and Captain Crook was a pirate who couldn't resist Filet O'Fish sandwiches.
I'll give Captain Crook a pass, because anyone who reduces the probablility of me encountering a Filet O'Fish is all right in my book.
Big Mac the cop clearly had his hands full, and I'm assuming Ronald, as high potentate of the land, pressured him to clean up all this potential crime. But I suspect that Big Mac wasn't really that good of an officer. I get the feeling that he got his job because of his close relationship (brothers? cousins?) to Mayor McCheese.
McCheese was probably hassling Big Mac quite a bit, too, you know, like "I got you this job, so you better make it look like you're at least trying."
But what was he to do?
Captain Crook could always escape to the high seas. The Fry Guys had strength in numbers. You took out a few, more would rise to take their place.
And the Hamburglar was just too crafty.
That left The Evil Grimace. This isn't much of a surprise, because I noticed that, even as an evil creature, Grimace didn't seem all that bright.
This is how I think it might have happened:
Facing pressure from both Ronald and Mayor McCheese, Big Mac sets his sights on The Evil Grimace. He seeks out the services of The Professor.
"Professor, I need your help."
"Always glad to help, Big Mac. What can I do for you?"
"It's The Evil Grimace. I need to stop him. Kill him if necessary."
"Nothing can kill the Grimace."
So they devise a plan. They go to The Evil Grimace's cave while he's asleep. The plan goes awry when Grimace wakes up and goes on a rampage. Big Mac relies on his training and disarms Grimace. Twice.
While Grimace bellows at the loss of two of his arms, The Professor sneaks behind him and drops a brainwave inhibitor helmet on the purple blob. As soon as Grimace is under, The Professor brainwashes him, removing his tendencies for evil. Alas, this diminishes Grimace's already limited faculties, making him into the goofball we know him as today.
Once the process is complete, they fabricate an elaborate tale that cements Big Mac's status as the top cop in McDonaldland. The Professor doesn't say what really happened, and in exchange, Big Mac looks the other way when it comes to The Professor's "experiments."
Everyone is happy, and crime is reduced in McDonaldland. Eventually, Captain Crook is seen less frequently, and the Hamburglar becomes less interested in Grand Theft Burger and more interested with gaining a more youthful appearance.
And nobody even wonders about the missing souls from the neighboring Burger Kingdom: Sir Shakes-A-Lot, The Duke of Doubt, and poor Burger Thing.
Okay, time for lunch...
Sunday, October 09, 2005
DC Comics is preparing to unleash "Infinite Crisis" on comic shops everywhere. You can get a spoiler-filled synopsis of the events leading up to this huge event here.
Twenty years ago, DC decided to clean house with the 12-issue maxi-series, "Crisis on Infinite Earths." The tagline for it was "Worlds will live. Worlds will die. And the universe will never be the same again."
When the series debuted, I was 10, and was just really getting to be a die-hard comic book nut. I learned of the series in a promo book they put out, DC Sampler. It was basically a collection of one- and two-page house ads designed to spotlight what was coming up. This particular sampler had cool cover art by the always-cool Fred Hembeck.
In the ad, it was called "Universe: Crisis on Infinite Earths." I remember thinking, man, I've got to look for that.
As it is, I picked up Crisis #1 at 7-Eleven as part of a two-pack. I don't know if it was like that at other 7-Elevens, but at mine, most of the comics were bundled in pairs, and they weren't similar titles. I think the other comic in the pack was a Fantastic Four, but I'm not sure.
As this is a 20-year-old comic, I'm not worried about revealing plot points. But just in case, spoilers ahoy...
In only the first few pages, a group of villains called The Crime Syndicate are killed by a rampaging wall of anti-matter. Their Earth, their entire universe are wiped out.
Man oh man, this was good stuff.
For those of you who aren't comic book fans, I'll try to explain this as best I can.
DC Comics used to have a system of sorts that corresponded with their various heroes. Keep in mind they'd been publishing superhero comics for about 50 years by this time and had quite a stable.
Some of the heroes from the Golden Age didn't make it through the 1950s when comic books were accused of promoting juvenile deliquency, among other things. Superman, Batman and Wonder Woman made it through okay, but Flash, Green Lantern, Hawkman and others didn't.
Instead, new heroes with the same names were introduced. Eventually, the Golden Age heroes were revived. Turns out they didn't disappear; they were on a parallel earth. Our Flash, whose secret identity was Barry Allen, met up with Jay Garrick, the original Flash from the 40s. Jay was the Flash on what Barry called Earth-2 for matters of simplicity.
What started as a neat idea in an issue of the Flash snowballed into a huge, sprawling multiverse complete with numerous parallel worlds with duplicate versions of heroes.
Earth-1 was the "main" Earth. That's where current issues of our favorite DC comics were happening.
Earth-2 featured all the World War II-era heroes, including an older Superman, Batman, etc. As they began their careers in the 40s, they were about a generation older than the Earth-1 heroes. As time went on, this gap got a little wider.
Earth-3 was a version of Earth in which there were no superheroes (initially), but a group supervillains -- The Crime Syndicate, who bit the dust in the first few pages of Crisis #1. History was also skewed; actor Abraham Lincoln shot President John Wilkes Booth, and I think England declared independence from America.
There were also Earths X and S, and a whole lot of others.
To add to the potential confusion, there were tons of different stories that featured future events, and they didn't all match. For example, Superman, when he was Superboy, was a member of the Legion of Super-Heroes. The Legion took place in the 30th century.
But then Superman had also met Kamandi, the Last Boy on Earth, who lived on a post-apocalyptic Earth. Was Kamandi from another parallel Earth or was the Legion?
DC said that this was confusing to new readers and was part of the reason behind Crisis.
Now, speaking as someone who was a new reader then (and, keep in mind I was 10, which I believe was their target demographic at the time), I can say that I had no problem keeping up with it.
I actually liked the different Earths, and if I read two stories that contradicted each other, I just kinda picked which one I liked better. If it really got to be a point of contention (if I'd gotten in conversations with friends who also liked comics), I could come up with a way around the problem.
As cool as that first issue was, I didn't pick up another issue until #7. While I went to the comic book store fairly regularly, I still bought the bulk of my comics from Waldenbooks or drugstores.
I was standing at the spinner rack, skimming the comic when I saw what happened near the end: Superman's cousin, Supergirl, died. I was shocked.
(Yes, I know there've been like a jillion Supergirls since then. Don't make me explain it.)
I made a point to get the rest of the series. It was exciting because I didn't know what else was going to happen. Who else was going to die?
And then in the last issue, it was a huge battle starring just about every DC superhero I'd ever seen, plus a metric buttload of ones I hadn't seen.
I picked up that last issue during a field trip to the library. During our lunch break, I traipsed down to the comic shop and snagged it with part of what I was supposed to use for lunch. (Sorry, Mom.)
I can still remember sitting downstairs in the children's library to avoid being spotted by my teacher. I read it in only a few minutes, trying to absorb every detail, noting deaths and rebirths.
Crisis remains one of my favorite comic series, and I'm interested in this new Crisis, just to see what's going on. I've read conflicting rumors of what the series is supposed to accomplish, but I'm still a little curious.
With all the crossovers and preludes, it's already a Crisis on a Finite Wallet.
Posted by Jeff Sparkman at 8:50 AM