Like Nick Kent straining to keep afloat in a pool of anti-mirror (the photographer snapping a few off for the cover of The Dark Stuff before his subject’s arms give out and he’s resubmerged, the black mind-vomit of the last eon’s keepers sloshing gently on the surface the only indication he ever managed to clamber back up those cold fathoms and out into the light, albeit for a few frantic seconds of splashing and flailing), Batman # 683 tells the story of one man drowning under the weight of super-rock star excess the pressures of which us mere mortals can never hope to understand.

If a tall dark stranger approaches you with a fun, brightly coloured costume, just say no, kids.

follow the bat-pole down, down…

And you thought we’d forgotten. For the lucky uninitiated, check the Cape-Killer archive:

To catch a cape killer

Cape killer apokriffer

Join Us!

What are you waiting for? JOIN US!!

So. We caught one.. A genuine, real life, stone-cold Cape Killer. Hero-blood under the nails on her dialing finger.


Beware! The mind of a Killer lurks beneath!

To hunt a cape killer

September 22nd, 2008

I got my black shirt on.
I got my Black Gloves on.
I got my ski mask on.
This shit’s been too long.

Cape killer, better you than me.
Cape killer, fuck superhero brutality!
Cape killer, I know your whole league’s grievin’
(Fuck ’em.)
Cape killer, but tonight we get even.

Cape Killer, by Ice-2 (the Ice-T of Earth-2)

A thought caught me, late last night, and it won’t let go. So let’s kick it around a bit, and see what we get out.

More after the jump…