Hey. Can we get real for a minute? We all know life can be hard to navigate sometimes. Especially when we're living in a world fifty years after the first of several horrific invasions by angry, brutal aliens. Which happens to be the world we're living in. Well, sometimes you simply have to have one of these important alien warlords killed by a renegade, surgically altered human killing machine. Well, if one of those times happens to be now, then there's only one person you should call, and that person is right here.


When you absolutely need somebody assassinatored, there's only one man who will get that assassinatoring done! And that man is Damlog. Damlog the Assassinator! Just ignore that "marked for death" part. He's fine!


Damlog does all his assassinatoring and death-marking in, as previously stated, a nightmare world where autocratic aliens rule over a nearly extinct humanity. But hey. At least we got a great logo out of the deal!


What's that you say? Marked for DEATH? Thanks for reminding us, we'd almost forgotten. It is heartening to see that no matter how many different interstellar creatures carve Earth up into their own warring fiefdoms, the unit of currency will still be the good old US Dollar.


Look at our guy go! Damlog knows he must hit the target with his first shot, which is why he's eschewing the use of a rifle or other long-barrelled firearm, and instead is going with what appears to be a cordless power drill. That's our Damlog!


Here we get a terrific description of the tremendous damage Damlog's "exploding bullets" do. I mean, regular old bullets just blow holes in things, but these special Damlog bullets, well, just take Damlog's word for it, they're brutal and deadly and require the calling after of a medical car, which, um, I don't know what that means.


Take the stairs? That's for chumps. You're going to want to leap off the roof in broad daylight while hoisting your personal helicopter over your head while hollering sacreligious oaths. Because otherwise surely you'd be noticed.


And to be sure, Damlog was noticed. Told you to take the stairs!


Let's pause and give thanks to captions, without which we'd never know about those guns pointed at Damlog's broad and tight musculared back. Or that "musculared" is a word that exists.


I will give whatever alien designed this skycycle credit for including an ejection system, but perhaps using the film "A Man Called Horse" as his reference might not have been the best idea?


Oh good, we're at the part of the comic where there's a record scratch noise on the soundtrack and the voice over says "I bet you're wondering how I got into this predicament!" Because I was wondering that.


Depending on what state you're in, this is known as "the gooch" or "the taint." You're welcome!


As an example of what we now call the "Power Comics" school, Damlog gives us exaggerated characters rippling with muscles, dripping with anger and contempt, vehicles designed to highlight the artist's obsessions. Which here seem to be the rippling pecs of a gorilla-man space alien.


Mr. Double-faced Alien Warlord lays out the complicated assassinatoring plan, which is, "Shoot that guy."


So here Damlog makes his first mistake, which is not getting the money up front. Well, okay, that's his second mistake. His FIRST mistake was forgetting to put a shirt on this morning.


The Force throws Damlog off his skycycle? These Star Wars spinoffs are getting crazier and crazier!


This here Assassinator gun will shoot exploding bullets *and* grappling lines, just remember to read the manual before using it to swing into a random abandoned apartment building. Of which there have become many such!


I'll say one thing for the now-devastated humanity, they knew how to make sofas.


LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, IT'S BLACKSAW, BLACKSAW IS BACK and this would mean something if we knew who Blacksaw was. I mean, he's dark, and he has a saw. So I guess we know who he is. What we *don't* know is how Blacksaw knew that Damlog would (a) be shot down on his skycycle, (b) pick this particular building to swing over to, and (c) land in this precise room. That's the magic of the Power Comics aesthetic, I guess.


We're joined by the two claws of Blacksaw's partner Triple Claw, who also somehow knew that Damlog would be in this particular apartment, etc. I guess they read the script.


The sofa is assuming more importance in this narrative than I would have previously suspected!


This comic is working really hard to interest us in splayed and contorted bondage-gear weirdos and their sweaty grappling, but it's clear that we're all on Team Sofa now.


Farewell, sweet sofa. We barely got to know you. I guess it's true that the candle that burns twice as bright gets torn in half by a chainsaw-armed mainac.


Meanwhile, the gimp-suited fetish alien family visits the gimp-suit fetish alien hospital to check up on the gimp-suited, fetish, alien, and surprisingly non-assassinatored General Tang.


Hey, we were given a big speech about those special exploding bullets and how amazingly destructive they were, and turns out they're not, and they weren't. You had ONE JOB, Damlog!!


Commander Neptheugh, meet Sxhatlhghpl, he'll be killing Damglnhgh for you with a CLANK and a CLINK and a KLIK-LICK. Most impressive!


Really getting a mid-80s 2000AD vibe from this strip, some real Kevin O'Neill/Mick McMahon/Brian Bolland/Glen Fabry art energy happening here. Minus, of course, the restraining hand of an editor who would pare this nonsense down to six pages, instead of the dozens and dozens wasted on these grunting doofuses.


Getting kicked in the face once is fine. But TWICE - now Damlog has gone too far!


And just when Damlog has disengaged from Blacksaw and the other guy, three-toes or whoever, well, settle in, readers, it's rampaging muscle-people battling each other all the way down.


With a mighty leap Damlog hurls himself into space and grabs onto that skycycle! And if you think you've seen this already, you're right. Damlog is already out of ideas!


Securing an international border with thousand-meter-high towers projecting laser beams that burn everything to ashes? Don't give Canada any ideas, okay?


It's a freewheeling disaster of a border incident as Damlog smashes through Customs & Immigration while Tars Tarkas, the fierce leader of the Tharks upon Barsoom (which we know as Mars) commands the guards to please not mention the failure of John Carter at the box office.

I mean seriously, this is Tars Tarkas. Come on.


The four-armed bug-face rippling-sinew'd alien is ready to use all the star-spanning ultra-technology of his world-conquering race to...whack you with some heavy things on chains!


I was going to remind Damlog The Assassinator that he has a exploding-bullet gun and could just shoot this guy, but a brick? A brick is fine.


Damlog returns to the two-faced alien bar to collect his one hundred thousand dollars for the assassinatoring that, and I want to point this out again, he didn't actually do.


Darn it, SOMEBODY's gonna get assassinatored tonight!


Soon nobody's left in the bar except for three fetish-masked super assassins and one shirtless respectless assassinator.


Just when you're braced for another interminable fight scene between yet another jacked-up goon and Damlog, and... wait, it's the gorilla face alien guy again!


And one final opponent falls before Damlog The Chiropractor, I mean Assassinator, the assassin so deadly that he killed everybody in this comic, except for the one guy he was actually supposed to kill.


Ask your comic shop owner about these other exciting Post Alien Invasion Earth Chronicles! I can absolutely guarantee he won't have any idea what you're talking about.

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