That One Time I Got Carjacked By Hulk Girl By Lenny Grist, Profeshunnal Henchman

So Im sitting here in my cell downing the last of my speshal eggnogg which I make myself out of rubbing alcahol and half-and-half and Im thinking "This is the worst Christmas yet I mean ever since Gladys up and left me for that crumb-bum lawyer of mine Larry Larkspur I been really down in the dumps and of course she dont send me no mackaroons no more which is insult on top of in jury." And then like a Christmas meericle who shood mateerialize in my cell but Blockade Boy hisself although I have to say he dont look too good on account of his hairs all white like he seen a ghost I guess it must a been quite a scare. But he says his readers been clammering for more of my stories and he gives me a pen and paper and so here goes.

This story is from the time I was on the lam after that time I was working as a teachers assistent for the Taskmaster and we were oporating out of a CIRCUS TENT if you can beleeve that shit and anyways the whole thing fell apart but I managed to aktuwally EXCAPE for once and Im just trying to lay low and mind my own bizness and keep my nose clean but I gotta keep moving of course and so finally I wind up in CALIFORNIA. And anyhows Im working in this burger joint and these two guys who are reguler custamers "Slim" and "Whiskers" they called themselves on account Slim is really skinny and Whiskers has whiskers we kind of strike up a friendship we seem to have a lot of the same interists like watching TV and drinking beer and ogling at ladies with big tits so its like we been best pals FOREVER oh and also they gave ME a nickname "Jeff" on account I kinda look like that actor guy Jeff Daniels appearantly. And its after my shift and they ask me if I want to have a little fun so of course I say "Yes" and I hop in theyre car and I guess they want to go to the dogtrack or something and I say I aint got no dough on account I work in a burger joint. And they look at eachother with this kind of knowing look and I probbly shood have gotten out of the car right then and there. But I dont and they stop at this gas station and we walk inside and Whiskers says "We can take care of your money troubels here" and I say "What are you high this aint no bank" and Whiskers says "The hell it aint!" and then he pulls out a gun. And I wish I cood say I was shocked but to be honest I been a crimminul for so long I just kinda shifted into ottopilot and I helped them rob the place. And as were making a break for it we pass this huge green lady in a ripped dress and I guess I shood of been more alarmed but hey it was CALIFORNIA.

And then Slim and Whiskers deside to totally FUCK ME UP THE ASS by taking off in the getaway car WITHOUT ME. So of course I have to take the next availabul veehicul which had the gas nozzul still stuck in it even but frankly I was in no mood to worry about particyoolers.

And Im thinking if I ever see those two slimeballs again Im going to clean theyre clocks BUT GOOD and so with revenge on my brain I of course am taken COMPLETELY BY SOOPRISE when the huge green lady leaps OVER THE CAR STOPS ME AND RIPS THE DOOR OPEN. And then I rembember where I seen her before which was on the news and they called her the Rampaging Hulk Girl I think and anyway I love me some hot curvasyhush ladies dont get me wrong but somehow when theyre seven foot tall and green and pissed off it stops being sexy and moves into the relm of TERRIFYING. And Im thinking shes just gonna pull my sorry ass outta the car and haul me off to the cops but NO.

She shoves me over into the passenjer seat and hops behind the wheel HERSELF and she takes off after Whiskers and Slim just like I was gonna do and I mean she FLOORS it. And I know it werent too manly of me but Im screaming my head off like a goddamn SISSYMARY but she dont pay no mind to me at ALL.

So were running stoplights and knocking over falaful venders and those guys with the maps of the stars homes and a anti-nucular power protestor or two and theres drag queens getting throwed to theyre asses left and right and I can hear SIRENS but Hulk Girl dont give two shits she just keeps driving. And its no sooprise to me that she catches up to Slim and Whiskers and then guess what. NO GUESS.

SHE LEAPS OUTTA THE GODDAMN CAR! And she was driving! And I get like a A-1 perfect view of her ass and she aint wearing no panties niether but hey Im a profeshunnal I still manage to grab the wheel and I slow down and get behind Slims and Whiskers car because I know some REAL BAD SHIT is about to go down.

So Hulk Girl climbs on top of the other car and shes stradduling it like shes gonna RAPE the damn thing and then she rips out the hole engine block! And Im thinking its a good thing I aint near the car no more cause that cood do me some real damage thats for goddamn sure and so of course...

...she throws it BEHIND her and now a engine block is bounsing down the assphalt right TWOARD ME and I know you aint gonna buy this for a minute but I swear as God is my witness the sound it made was "SKANK."

No kidding engine block. No kidding.

Spider-Woman's Super-Disguise Kit!

With Michael Fleisher as writer, Marvel's "Spider-Woman" series took on a very DC-esque tone. Namely, it turned into a cross between the "Supergirl" and "Jimmy Olsen."

Incog-NEATO! So that bent, bedraggled old lady was really the shapely Spider-Woman! Let this be a lesson unto you, young (straight) men: any old woman you meet could turn out to be a foxy super-babe! So take time to check them out. Really, give them a thorough going-over. Don't be afraid to peek under their hems for telltale signs of spandex. Pinch their bottoms to see if they're padded out. For reals. It could be totally worth it. But how on earth did Spider-Woman come across this fantastic disguise?

Oh. Okay, so I feel a bit cheated, but I'm sure Fleisher will make good on his promise to tell that wonderful story. Hmm? What's that, Jeremy? He never did? Huh. Well. Now, of course, I'm going to have to kick his ass. *makes beeline for time bubble*

*emerges from time bubble with a blackened eye, a dislocated jaw, and a pronounced limp* That could have gone better. Er, where were we? Oh yes. Here's Spider-Woman disguised as a cheap trollop. Or maybe Marcia Wallace. I'm not quite sure. Oh, and by the way, I think I saw that exact same ensemble on Tommy Tomorrow. I liked it better on him.

Fishnets and a blonde wig? It doesn't get more DC than this, folks! Except for the next page, where Spider-Woman goes on a date with a smarmy creep while wearing her Spider-Woman costume.

Also: "Momo?" The hell-?!

Sometimes Spider-Woman would disguise herself as a man! In a zoot suit! As part of a zoot suit-wearing gang. You see what I mean about how "DC" this all is? It's like they escaped from an old "Green Arrow" or "Black Orchid" story.) "I'm dreadfully sorry I had to let them get so close to you and your wife, Mr. Ambassador...!" Thank God she wasn't following a masher, huh? ("I'm so sorry I had to let him fondle your wife...")

Once, Spider-Woman disguised herself as supporting cast member Lindsay McCabe, masquerading as Spider-Woman. My brain is bleeding just thinking about it. Luckily, nobody noticed Spider-Woman's man-hands.

Such ravishing muttonchops! Er, but I digress. That vacant pile of boobery in the background is none other than Spider-Woman! I call this look "Vanna Frost": part ditsy "briefcase babe" and part icy ballcutter. With barrettes!

Ack! Another man-guise! You can't tell me your stomach didn't jump back up your throat a bit when you saw that panel of her lifting that screaming man-head off her comely visage. Okay, so you could tell me that, but I wouldn't listen to you. In fact, I have my hands over my ears and I'm humming a jaunty little tune this very instant. La la la la la...

And in my last example, the tables get turned on Spider-Woman when somebody disguises themselves as her.

Apparently the carpet didn't match the curtains! Because the whole roll of it got returned to the warehouse. Why are you snickering? What did you think I meant? Why, that's filthy! For shame. Let me start over.

Woo-woo! It's Spider-Woman's very own Etta Candy, complete with a "Spider-Woman" sorority. Which we never got to see, goddamn it. You'd think the follow-up writer, Chris Claremont, would be all over that shit. Except he'd make them mind-controlled ninja assassins or somethin'.

Empowered Tool

Remember when I said that there was no villain so lame that he needed to be killed off? I take it all back. Because I had forgotten about the Grinder, from "Spider-Woman" #26 (May, 1980).

I don't know if the Grinder is dead. Probably not, since it's doubtful he appeared anywhere after this issue. He still pisses me off, though. I mean, look at this idiot! The Grinder is the kind of supervillain people who don't read comics imagine people who do read comics would like. He's farcical. He's "Inferior Five" material. I don't get it. Marvel already had a villain who uses rotary saw blades, and his name is Whirlwind, and y'know what? None of the spinning blades were on his head. And the Skittle-fied color scheme! Yikes! Normally I'd blame something this garish on early-80's Marvel colorist Don Warfield, but nope. The credits indicate it's actually old standby Carl Gafford, or, as he's listed here, "Gaff." Yeah, that sounds about right.

It gets worse. This issue was written by Michael "Dave Sim is my homeboy" Fleisher, so the Grinder actually presents a challenge to poor, pathetic, woman-y Spider-Woman. To quote her thought balloons: "Blast it! I was too self-confident! If I'd waited till I'd moved in closer, I could've probably hit him in a spot he couldn't protect with that shield! Now it's going to be another hour before I'm sufficiently recharged to unleash another venom blast! He's leaving the way he came! It's not going to be easy to catch him-- because he's equipped with motorized flight, while all I can do is leap and glide! But I've got to try!" Darn that feminine self-confidence! Bah. If I want to read about a superhero who's a whiny little bitch, I'll pick up a Spider-MAN comic, thank you very much.

Thankfully, Spider-Woman pulls herself together in time to defeat the Grinder with one of his own blades, and from the ground, no less.

"H-HALP!!!" Ah, so he's the father of the little girl in the Shake 'n' Bake commercials.

Is there a way the Grinder could have worked? I can think of two, actually. The first and most boring way is to simply move the blades off the top of his head for God's sake and onto his arms where they'd look cooler. The downside is that he winds up as a very generic 90's-style villain. And nobody in their right mind wants another one of those. The second option was inspired by the following panel:

The Grinder's "shield" which Spider-Woman mentioned previously was merely the top of his bladed beany-copter. But what if... those blades were there in place of his head? What if he was this freaky guy with a sawblade (or three) floating over his headless body? Maybe he could be a cyborg with his brain in his chest, Arnim Zola-style, huh? (Only without the dopey TV screen. That thing looked ridiculous.) And maybe he could talk via the spinning blades, and he'd sound kind of like that surgeon Cenobite from the second Hellraiser movie. You know. Kind of like, "NNNNNwhooooooowaaaannnnntsmoooorecremmmmmebruuuulllleNNNN?" Er, only he'd say something cooler than that. Or maybe he could just talk like the "Slingblade" guy. What do you think? Too Grant Morrison? Too DC? I dunno. How would you improve the Grinder?

Tomorrow: more costume-foolery from Michael Fleisher's Spider-Woman. Friday: a letter from Lenny!

Rude Toff's Shiny New Gear

There's nothing sadder than a man in a sexed-up, nipple-baring Santa suit... after Christmas, natch. Before then? Why, it's the epitome of elegance! Which is my little way of saying I've got a new costume!

I thought I'd take advantage of my current obsession with hair bleaching to design some kick-ass black-and-silvery-white togs. I never would have worn something like this when my hair was brown... or orange. Anyway, this is my most favoritest costume yet! It's a bit "Fantastic Four," I grant you. But the little spots of color in the goggles and in the superhero logo make a big difference. Also, I trimmed my hair a little shorter than before, to put more emphasis on my killer biker 'stache. I think it's a pretty sweet look for me. And if any man disagrees, we can settle things the old-fashioned way: with fisticuffs. Or better yet, a drinking contest! In fact, forget the "contest" part, let's just meet at your place for drinks. And if we get in an argument that escalates into a full-contact brawl with the both of us wrestling on the floor until our clothes get torn off and we're all sweaty and dirty and naked, I'm totally cool with that.

I'm just sayin'.

What's Your Christmas Wish?

This Christmas I want one of them persunal hovercraft deals like I seen the Atomick Skull use cause word around the pokey is the Skull is putting together a new gang only you got to own your own persunal hovercraft deal if you want to join up so that'd pretty sweet I mean I hear his benefits packege is top of the line with all your dental needs completeley covered which I guess makes sense considdering if you got a skull for a face your gonna make pretty goddamn sure your teeth look nice right? Also I want for that bum Steve Lombard at GBS to use one of them sports bloopers tapes I keep sending him I mean I got this one thats a real byoot its from the time I was in Two Faces mob and he put me in charge of filming our heists so we can go back later and see any mistakes me made and anyway this ONE time we was robbing the box office at the Gotham Goliaths game on Free Hat Night and Batman was chasing me and Izzy and Soupbone and then Batman conks Soupbone right in the old melon with a Battering and he goes flying over the rail and he lands on the umpire in a way that it looks like hes ass-ramming him I mean thats pretty good right? I dunno.

This Christmas season I'd like for once to get away with wearing my special mistletoe hat at Harry's office building without running into that one burly delivery guy who makes kissy-noises and winks at me and calls me "Precious." Also, I'd like to get his phone number. Er, so I can give that turkey a real piece of my mind! Yeah.

I want an oficial Micronauts Crater Cruncher, the orange one, with the bulldozer scoop and the extendable crane. Because I'm tired of walking to work.

Id like to get in another post before the end of the year I mean its been what? Seven months now or something? Jesus Christ. Does anybody in theyr right mind think that Manny chump is any kind of replasemint for ME? Like hell he is I mean I coold take that fat balding dope any day of the week and you can tell him I said that too. My cellmate Fabian got released last Laber Day and I feel like I dont see nun of my old friends no more and I aint had a mackaroon in ages Im getting serious lonely you guys. Blockade Boy where are you?

I'd like for Santa to bring me a diamond-tipped grinder I can use for sharpening costumes. Also? I want Blockade Boy to realize that he's a horrible fashion design and to turn over the blog to me so I can start righting all the fashion wrongs he's made. Night Girl in a printed catsuit? Puh-LEASE. She obviously should be wearing a full-body owl costume with cut-outs for her beehive and her tits.

I just want everybody who has ever stopped by this blog to have a great holiday, whatever it happens to be.

Me too, Jeremy. In some ways, I wish the Christmas season would never end. Mainly because I've gotten more action in this Santa outfit than I've gotten in my last four costumes combined! Oh, well. (And don't fret, Lenny; I'll visit you next week.) Happy Holidays, everyone!

Next of Ken

In "Secret Origins" #8 (November, 1986) Doll Man grapples with a serious shrinkage problem. For starters, what's he going to wear?

Wow, male back-al nudity in a DC comic! And he's not even Doctor Manhattan! I'm just not sure how the sight of a miniature adult male in a diaper is less upsetting than the sight of a miniature adult male in the nude. Let's just hope his fiance doesn't get wind of this! Oops. Too late.

As we all know, a chaste kiss sounds like "SMAK" while a deep, throat-vacuuming French-style kiss sounds like "SMAKK." It's the vibration of the tonsils as they're probed by an alien tongue that produces the additional "K" sound. Say, maybe at the wedding Doll Man can just be tucked into the best man's pocket. Or pants, just to give the kiss at the end of the ceremony some spice. "You may now kiss the bride..." *jazzy electric guitar and drum machine music begins to play as the church is lit up by red strobe lights*

In panel two, the prospective father-in-law hastily excuses himself. Because he's more comfortable watching this sort of thing through the slats of a Venetian blind.

Okay, so the idea of marrying a curio-sized man might seem exciting... to some people... at first. But that kind of relationship can't last. I mean, sure, it's kind of thrilling when you learn that the hot robo-gladiator pilot you had your eyes on is from Imsk, and the two of you invent all kinds of fun new activities in the bedroom, but soon enough you walk out of the shower and find him on top of your dresser, humping your cybernetic toe prosthesis, and you get so angry that you grab him with one hand and you squeeze him and you squeeze him and then you're holding a dead Imskian in your hand and you don't know what to do with the body because trash pickup isn't until Monday. We've all been there, right?

...No? Oh. Er, anyway, let's see how Martha copes, shall we?

Check out panel three. This is the origin of Doll Man's costume. Nobody had any idea of him being a superhero. Nope, Martha sewed that for him to wear as his everyday outfit. I think that's her way of telling him she wants to break things off. "And just imagine, dearest, once we're married you can wear hotpants, a muscle shirt, pixie boots, and a cape, every single day! Won't that be marvelous? Unless... you would want to 'take a break' from the engagement and reconsider your options... I'd totally understand, I mean, this whole doll-sized thing, that's got to be pretty stressful and you'd want to spend some time away from it all, thinking about where you're going with your life... and maybe you could even date some other women just to make sure that I'm really 'the one'... and, and, y'know what? Maybe I should date some other men, too! I mean, as long as you get to have some fun, why shouldn't I? Why is it that you get to do whatever the hell you want while I have to stay here at home like a nun with nobody but my fat four-eyes of a father to keep me company, huh? I mean, what the fuck?! You think I'm going to just stand around and do nothing while you stick your toothpick-sized pecker in every clap-ridden whore in the tri-county area? Is that what you think?! God, you can be so selfish sometimes! I HATE YOU!" *flees the room, weeping*

Or maybe she's just not very good at sewing pants or sleeves.

Puttin' on the Ritz

Busy day today, so I'm going to turn the fashion criticism over to some other nancy. Take it away, Miss Ritz!

What the--?! Aw, now you've gone too far! Don't give me that look. Listen, little missy, I happen to know for a fact that you've made some pretty tragic fashion decisions yourself. Exhibit A:

In a desperate bid to impress that cute teacher (not that I blame you) you tarted yourself up like a cheap French whore. And that Lilt home perm is out of control. (Or is it a Jheri curl?) Why don't you just marry Jim Baker and get it over with? And now for Exhibit B:

Yeah, I think I saw this look on one of the Olsen twins. And Courtney Love wore this ensemble to a custody hearing. That's mighty poor company, Ritz. So how dare you presume to judge one of the most important cultural icons of the 1970's and 1980's? HOW DARE YOU?!!

Great, now I'm in a saliva-frothing rage. Time to go Christmas shopping!

!emutsoc ykcus a em eviG

I have to admit I'm not really thrilled with how my Night Girl costume design turned out. I might have to try again. With something skimpier. And maybe a poncho or something for when she's surprised by sudden sunrises or whatever. Oh, and while we're on the subject of superheroines with butt-ugly costumes, how 'bout that Zatanna? "Secret Origins" #27 (June 1988) showcased all of 'em! And more! Let's start with what she likes to wear for investigating spooky French castles in the rain.

It's an interesting look for her: the top half is suitable for the local Christmas pageant, while the bottom half is perfect for servicing a muff-diving crack addict. Although the fumes would indicate some serious douching is in order.

And here's Zatanna in action, sort of, wearing her "classic" costume with the top hat and the fishnets. Because nothing screams "superheroics" like dressing as a cocktail waitress. It's not bad, I suppose, but I think it looks better without the top hat. Top hat + long hair = Gary Oldman in "Bram Stoker's Dracula." In other words, it looks ridiculous. Next!

Zatanna is all smiles after getting the Justice League's mandatory breast augmentation and lobotomy. My problem with this one is the ponytail. It's too youthful. I hate it when grown women put their hair up like that with the intent of looking sexy. I'm aware I'm not exactly their target audience, but still. I suppose she had to do something with her hair to keep it out of that monstrous collar she's wearing but really, anything would have been better that that. Hey, why not a beehive? (Kidding.) I wonder if this costume change came about because Black Canary was on the team back then, and they were afraid of having two women on a superteam dressed like hookers. These days that kind of thing isn't so much of a concern, is it, Chuck Austen?

Ah, the Cootie Hat Era. You know a costume is hideous when your body would rather self-destruct than be seen wearing it. (It happens. I once bought a pair of zip-up ostrich skin boots dyed cornflower blue, and they caused me to lose a toe. True story. Although it may have been due to poor circulation.) But enough of the past! This story introduced what was intended to be Zatanna's new, permanent costume, for ever and ever and ever. Ready? *plays opening chords of "The Final Countdown" on a synthesizer*

Ya duhn da duhn-da-dah! Slacks! Didn't last too long, did it? The fanboy fetish for superheroine skin torpedoed this modest little number. Of course, the fact that it made her look like a vampiric theater usher may also have had something to do with it. Personally, I love the cape, but that's about it. And that yellow vest is ridiculous. Bah! Bah, I say to you now.

Hey, bonus panel!

Rrrowr! You wouldn't think anybody could look like a badass in a jinglebell hat (with a feather!) but I'll be darned if Cagliostro didn't pull it off. Hell, he's rocking that jinglebell hat! I mean, I always figured Cagliostro was a pimp, but goddamn. He can read my palm, anytime!

Legion of Substitute Costumes: Night Girl

Night Girl has super-strength but only in the absence of sunlight. So it's no wonder the Legion of Super-Heroes rejected her.

Her costume isn't any great shakes, either. Sure, it has a certain Beatnik/Goth quality, what with all the black and such. But it's mainly a slab of one solid color with a timidly small owl symbol on the chest. And then there's the hair. It's inspired great men to write odes to it, but in my opinion it's hideous. Something needs to be done. Oh, I wouldn't dare cut it -- that would only make it mad! But maybe it could be arranged more attractively. So here's how I would style Night Girl...

...starry, starry Night Girl. I went with this Van Gogh-inspired pattern for the fabric. And because it's so loud busy eyecatching, I made the silhouette very simple. No distracting cut-outs or ruffles or anything. I tied all of Night Girl's magnificent hair back into a chignon, incorporating a matching scarf of the same fabric. I think it makes her look the Greeks of old (you know which ones I mean).

It's a Vandal, It's an Outrage

What the--?! I leave Jeremy alone with the computer for two days while I enjoy a ski vacation with Travis Morgan and the blog goes to hell in a freaking handbasket. Bah, humbug! Well, that's it. I was going to share a costume redesign with you all today but my nerves are just too jangled. It will have to wait until Monday. (It's for Night Girl. I would have done something before now but to be frank I'm terrified of her hair.) So instead, enjoy my description of a DC Universe teenage-themed humor comic from Earth-Riverdale.

In late 1968, DC decided to combine the concepts of "Leave It to Binky" and "Anthro" into a new book. The result? "Ramble with Vandal," featuring Vandal Savage, an immortal Cro-Magnon teen misadventuring through the swinging 60's. Although drawn in a derivative "Archie Comics" style, Vandal lacked the girl-friendly boyishness of Archie Andrews and his clones. In fact, he was intensely hirstute -- a fact that was mined for many a gag. At least once an issue, his bushy black beard would be shaved off by an authority figure or a conniving girlfriend. In the very next panel an identical beard would instantly grow to take its place. (This was typically accompanied by the sound effect "SPROING!") Vandal differed from Archie in another significant way: he had no moral compass whatsoever. Beneath his friendly facade, he was as treacherous and as self-serving as Reggie Mantle, as brutish as Moose Mason, as voracious as Jughead Jones, and as calculating as Dilton Doily.

A typical plot had Vandal leading a protest march on his high school campus, taking over the cafeteria building, and from there proceeding to take over the entire school. After making a series of increasingly ridiculous demands, his movement fell apart when everyone else got bored. A self-effacing joke and a shit-eating grin was all it took to win over the principal and avoid detention. The last panel showed the principal's secretary mussing Vandal's mop of hair and shrugging, "That's Our Vandal!"

Archie may have been torn between the affections of Veronica and Betty, but Vandal steadily gathered a veritable harem of admirers. A girl introduced and dated in one issue would show up in the following issue as part of Vandal's entourage, smiling and cooing and making googoo eyes at him. This process continued until all of his male hangers-on had been replaced by former dates. Vandal had enough girlfriends by the book's twentieth issue that it could feature a story titled "Vandal's Dodecatuple Date!" In that book-length tale, Vandal schemed to divide a single night among twelve different girls at twelve different locations, without having to pay for anything himself.

The book lasted into the mid-70's, although in its last few years it was converted into a horror anthology, "Vandal's Creepy Conundrums." Vandal stayed on in the role of "Your hairy host, Vandal the Savage" but he was restricted to appearing in only the first and the last panel of each story.

More fun facts about "Ramble With Vandal":

• Charles Manson has cited the book as "a major inspiration."
• So has Bill Clinton.
• In 1969, Dennis Hopper made an unauthorized film adaptation of the comic, titled "Savage Rder." Starring in the title role: Richard Kiel.
• In 1971, Richard Nixon called the comic "a key source of the moral decay that plagues our once-great nation."
• In 1990, this sentiment was echoed at a press conference by Vice-President Dan Quayle. The diminutive politico seemed extremely put-out when a TV reporter explained that it hadn't been published in sixteen years.
• Perhaps inspired by Quayle's reference, cartoonist Phil Foglio wrote and drew a four-issue revival of "Ramble with Vandal" which saw publication in 1992. That book showed Savage working as a "tenured radical" professor on a small-town college campus. When a wily teenage student named "Scandal" inexplicably foils his various schemes, Vandal is driven into a comical rage. In the last issue, he becomes so exasperated with the young woman that he ends up in the campus bell tower, aiming at her with a sniper rifle. Suddenly he gets a phone call -- the private detective he'd hired to "dig up dirt" on Scandal has made a shocking discovery! It turns out that Scandal is Vandal's long-lost daughter! He shoots anyway.
• In Neil Gaiman's "Sandman," Vandal owns the Dreaming's most intimidating mansion, which he calls "the Chateau of Savagery." Vandal muscled out the home's original owner, Cain, and relegated him to the somewhat less-imposing Poolhouse of Mystery.
• To unlock Vandal as a playable character in the Playstation 1 game "Atari Vs. DC," press up-arrow, down-arrow, square, square, left-arrow, triangle. Vandal has superior resistance to psionic attacks and his melee weapon is an uprooted tree trunk.
• Vandal served as Lex Luthor's Secretary of Education.
• In 2002, the Bloodhound Gang recorded the song "Vandal Savage" with lyrics that consisted entirely of quotes from Vandal's comic book appearances, arranged in rhyming couplets. An example: "That groovy chick's bikini blows my mind/I'll be the ruler over all mankind."
• Vandal was a guest villain in the fifth season of the popular CW series "Leesburg." The episode, titled "The Savage Partytime," featured him as a mummified museum exhibit brought back to life via Kryptonite by Linda Danvers' rival, Lena Luthor. Once revived, Vandal discovers he has the ability to project his savage impulses onto others. Luthor uses him in a plot to turn a local squaredance into a bloody riot with the hopes of destroying Danvers once and for all. He was played by Adam Goldberg.

*Edited around 11:20 AM to change the name of the comic from my original, crappier idea: "Vibrate with Vandal." Ugh. I know. I was trying to do a spin on "Swing with Scooter" and I couldn't for the life of me figure out an appropriate verb that started with a "V." I don't know why I settled on "vibrate." It must have been timebubblelag.