Because you demanded it: another rollicking moment from the strange, sick world of Freddy,Charlton Comics' chilling Archie rip-off. I won't bore you by telling you what's going on here, but one thing is for sure: he's not selling copies of his own magazine. Nah, dey ban not goot!
You may recall, chums, that I mentioned the fact that I had been tempted, against my better judgement, to purchase further copies of Freddy, following my fascinating blog posts about the oily-haired twerp here and here, but had not done so owing to the fact that I refused to pay £4.00 each for copies at a comics fair. You remember, right? No? Just humour me, anyhow.
Well, it just so happened that there I was, at the same stall some months later, and the stall-holder (who used to run a comic shop, but now works in Sainsbury's, apparently) was having an "everything with a little red sticker on it is half price" sale. Unsurprisingly, his previously £4.00 copies of Freddy had still not been snapped up. Reader, I bought them. Here they are; I beg your indulgence while I interject some random observations.
Another strange cover from D'Agostino. Wearing those "trunks" it is perhaps no wonder that the sword fish is keen to give him a friendly prod up the sit-upon. And, though the comic book might perhaps be somewhat below par, you should buy it anyway because there are coupons worth $3.37 in this issue. Incidentally, in case you were wondering, I can confirm that the comic book is not all that it might be; and, unfortunately, the coupons are no longer valid. But I still bought it, however, so what does that say about me? You don't have to answer that.
Freddy's overdone the magic mushrooms in this special libido-overload issue.
Aha, no wonder he was getting hot under the collar. Though you might wonder what this statuesque dream-doll is doing hanging out with drippy Fred. Especially when he's started a fire on the ice in the middle of a frozen lake. Inside...
Hey mom, how come you're the same age as I am? Don't ask awkward questions. It is all part of D'Agostino's master-plan. Talking of which, where's our Jughead-rip-off pal, Stuff? Here he is!
I must confess to being somewhat confused by this wordplay. "Holy Cow" isn't generally spelled "wholly cow", and either way, it isn't pronounced "woolly cow". And besides, it's not a cow, it's a dog. I guess Stuff must be confused because of that ice-bag on his head. Or could this be the rottenest joke in the world?
Hey, here's an idea. Why not get another character to repeat the same rotten joke again, then get Freddy himself to remind the readers how rotten it is? Very unfunny! But somehow it makes sense in the strange world of Freddy.
Unfortunately, though, pals, overall none of these newly acquired issues of Freddy reach the dismally sublime heights of surreal ineptitude that marked the one we examined previously. But they have their moments. Like a chucklesome story about killing animals, with this pay-off panel:
Nice elk, madam. We even have "plop-cloud" end of story fainting, a venerable comic strip technique dating back as least as far as Mutt & Jeff circa 1907.
And this bargain-basement hep cat crops up all over the shop. It's Nick the Beat, here appearing in Like, Let's Dance.
Like, the story is as tired and throwaway as you'd expect of, like, any tale written in approximately thirty seconds on the back of an envelope entitled Like, Let's Dance, but, like, I must confess that I have a sneaking affection for Nick the Beat. Happiest when upsetting uptight aged schoolboys whacking his bongo with a hearty Bong! Bonga! Boom!, I wish I were he. If only he'd had his own comic.
Now, how about some hand grenades? Guaranteed to break the ice at parties.
I think I'll have the "Pineapple" as it is famous through three wars. And an "egg", while you're at it.
I didn't realise that, in his heyday, Freddy had his own letters page. Hard to believe that anybody wrote in, right? And that's what "a girl by the name of Linda Hartman" thought too...
On the contrary, I think Linda Hartman must have been an unusually astute young lady. Whereas young Marilyn (they're the very best ever. I've been buying them for a long time and will continue to buy them) may perhaps have been an unhappy child, and (all my friends and I love "Freddy" comics) a loner at school.
The Charlton office boy seems almost to be blubbing into his $3.37-worth of coupons in his drippy heartfelt response...
Though Freddy pretends not to be "mad" at Linda it nonetheless seems to me that there is the underlying implication in this tearful reply that Ms. Hartman is anti-American, a Communist, and a thoroughly bad sort, and should be pelted with stones in the street. If there were any "loyal" Freddy fans to do it, of course. Which I doubt. I think most of the letters were made up. Probably including this one.
I'm with you, cue-ball. Leave him there. That about wraps it up, don't you think?
You'll find these marked-down copies of Freddy in the HOUSE OF COBWEBS.