I like the helpful prologue, "NOTE: THE COSMIC CUBE CAN DO ANYTHING." I think a better disclaimer would have been "NORMALLY INANIMATE OBJECTS DO NOT ENJOY TWINKIES." I must have spent 9 or 10 hours smashing Twinkies against my appliances trying to cheer them up. They still seemed depressed, so I started humping the phone. I ended up dialing a random person, and after I explained how we came to meet they sold me some really special frosting to spread on my TV whenever it seems sad. When I look back on it now, the whole thing seems silly, but you read 150 Hostess ads in a row and see what you find yourself doing, ivory tower bitches.|
Take a look at the last panel. Is Captain America just going to leave him there? Glub. "Let's see, I've got to take my flag pajamas to the faggot cleaners, make it to the bicentennial celebration, leave the super villain next to the cosmic artifact that can reshape our cosmoverse, and oh man, I almost forgot I'm teaching handicapped kids how to make puppets later! Bye Red Skull! This is going to be the best day ever!"
Look at Doom's life. Toiling in his lonely castle, his only pleasure coming from others' pain, or being given to his lap by robot clones in his own image.... discussing the illogic in forgotten advertisements based on madness and gluttony. Doom was expelled from school early because of what the faculty deemed "dangerous careless experiments leading to the deaths of multiple faculty members," and so TECHNICALLY Doctor Doom isn't TECHNICALLY a doctor. In fact, besides several diplomas Doom removed from the skeletal remains of his enemies, Doom does not even hold a credited bachelor's degree. Where is Doom's Twinkie? WHERE IS DOOM'S TWINKIE!?