The heyday of pulp science fiction was the 1930s and 1940s, but pulp SF never really went away. Wherever people wanted their heroes heroic, their space-drives implausible, their plots simplistic, and their aliens foreign and lizardlike, pulp fiction would be there, extending Manifest Destiny to the cosmos. And that's just where we are with... cue John Williams fanfare... Lance Carrigan of the Galactic Legion!

Yes, it's Tribune Lance Carrigan of the Galactic Legion, taking that implicit imperialism and putting it right out there in the open amidst all the spaceships and explosions.

Lance Carrigan of the Galactic Legion! All the heart gripping pounding thrilling thrills of the finest science fiction adventure as Lance battles the arch anarchist of the entire galaxy, Lizak Amarath, who is apparently under the impression that anarchy involves ruling entire planets with an iron dicator fist. You may recognize our artist as the same guy who drew "Captain Electron," still keeping the past alive well into the 1980s.

Did I mention the name of this comic book is Lance Carrigan Of The Galactic Legion? Because it is! As you will remember from our last episode, a master assassin is attempting to kill our hero, Lance Carrigan Of The Galactic Legion, by dropping a lot of heavy equipment on top of him, which is an interesting way to try to kill someone in outer space where you can't really count on things being "heavy."

It wouldn't be pulp science fiction without some space royalty in danger and that's just what Lance Carrigan Of The Galactic Legion is giving us.

That Hal, always spilling clorigon compound on his work clothes. Classic Hal!

Okay, first off clorigon is a deadly acid and would have burned you! Secondly, you're not Hal at all but the assassin! Thirdly, I don't even know why I bothered with that first thing!

And with the power in his mighty thews, Lance hurls the assassin to the ground where he disintegrates because he was actually a half human android programmed to self destruct! Also, what's a "thew?"

Oh Lance, I am but a mere slip of a girl, powerless to defend myself in a universe full of arcolite androids. Hold me close Lance, let us press our doll-like 1940s faces together in rapturous splendor.

The full Jay Disbrow artistic experience is on full display here as his mastery of what seems to be the only face he can draw extends to giving us slightly different hair styles and a little moustache.

Don't just land on that planet, land the HELL out of it!

And yet in spite of their tremendous crash, Lance Carrigan of the Galactic Legion and his fellow legionaire tribunes live and breathe the helpfully breathable air - don't you know that in pulp science fiction, all planets have oxygen and everybody speaks English and everybody is a good-looking white person ready to spread good-looking white people culture throughout the galaxy at the point of a ray-pistol? Because it is.

Turns out that in the future of the Galactic Legion, a "magnetic pulsar" looks a lot like a cement mixer. Which honestly this crumbling old fortress could use.

Finally Lance Carrigan is face to lizard face with the arch-anarchist of the galaxy, lounging on his anarchist throne and commanding hordes of subservient anarchist slaves, all equally unclear on the concept of "anarchy." Will Lance Carrigan join forces with this evil menace who, let's be fair, seems to have access to decent amounts of legal weed?

Take him to the Room Of A Thousand Terrors and chain him in the Room Of Horrors and inform the Department of Redundancy Department!

HANDY TIP FOR WRITERS: stuck on how exactly to get your captured princess out of her prison cell? Just have your bad guys forget to lock the door. Easy-peasy!

Recoil in horror as the mental projections of the evil space lizards fill you with terror! Roll your eyes in disbelief as Lance Carrigan of the Galactic Legion finds his weapons conveniently lying on the floor in plain sight!

Every once in awhile you just want to put on your space diaper and wander around hallways whacking lizard people on the skull with the butt of your space pistol, recruiting strangers to join your struggle against the Regulian lizard men. It's fun.

And hey, our captive is Prince Brad, Queen Hesta's brother. Yes, he's a different character! The hair is different! And he has a little beard. Totally different!

The only way to destroy Amarath the Regulian is to shatter his nervous system with high frequency sound waves! But how will we get a high frequency signal emitter? Mariah Carey must be two or three hundred light years away! But wait! Conveniently, Amarath has a high frequency sound wave gun right here in the palace!

Yes, Amarath the Regulian built the one thing that can kill him, and keeps it lying around where anybody can pick it up. That's anarchy for you, I guess.

And now it's time for Lance Carrigan to do what Lance Carrigan does best, which is to say, killing everyone who doesn't look like him without warning or hesitation, the screams of the dying echoing throughout the cosmos as a warning to all.

The rest of the Legionaires have escaped their prison cells by using the explosive charges they carry in their pants. Very popular with the ladies, those Legionaires. Hey lizard men, if you're going to lock up your prisoners without searching their pants for explosives, you might as well just leave the door unlocked, save everybody some trouble.

Captured, the evil Amaroth the Regulian immediately and conveniently commits suicide in his suicide booth, which he had designed and constructed on the off chance that Lance Carrigan and the Galactic Legion would one day show up, use the high frequency sound emitter that he left lying around, and conquer his entire army of lizard men. I gotta say Amaroth plans ahead! I bet YOUR suicide booth isn't even half built!

And what of the surviving Regulian lizard men? Will they escape the fortress, free themselves of Amaroth's evil influence, and go on to live happy productive lives?

Nope, they're all killed by dinosaurs. The end.

Nothing says "victory" like taking a shower in Amaroth The Regulian's very own shower, and nothing says "the artist really wants to show us a lot of Lance Carrigan's naked body" like wasting a panel on Lance Carrigan's personal hygiene.

And the moral of Lance Carrigan Of The Galactic Legion is that everyone must stay firmly locked into their life's station - Galactic Legionaires must patrol the galaxy, Space Royalty must marry Space Royalty, the rigid bonds of our galaxy's race and class structures must never be threatened by Regulian lizard men, and that comic book art peaked fifty years ago and must never ever change. If that means enduring the agony of eternal separation, then so be it!

And as the mighty rockets hurl our heroes across the voids to the planet Meglon, Lance begins the long, impossible process of trying to convince himself that he probably wouldn't enjoy being married to a queen and running a whole planet, anyways, who needs it? Not Lance Carrigan of the Galactic Legion, that's for sure! Stay tuned for another exciting adventure of Lance Carrigan, coming just as soon as time itself collapses and we start 1954 all over again!