Zap! KaPOW! Shazzzam!
Okay. I admit it. I'm in alien territory here. Literally "alien."
As a kid I read Mad magazine and had my first pre-teen erotic fantasies over Mighty Mouse. But I was over comic books by the time I entered junior high school--having progressed from Archie and Jonny Quest to Classics Illustrated to, eventually, the classics. And that, my friends, was a long long time ago.
I was perhaps in the seventh grade (at the latest) when I wrote a fan letter to DC Comics requesting an autographed picture of Mr. Mxyzptlk, a super-villainous imp from the fifth dimension with whom I felt an unaccountable bond. I received a picture of Superman instead. Memory is deceptive, but as I recall, that was the end of the line for my comic-book years.
Not that I haven't been intrigued by comic-book covers since then, those featuring an array of barely costumed brawn, hyper-ripped and ultra-flexed. And, sure, I'm not altogether numb to the allure of full body latex and spandex catsuits. And I continue to be fascinated by John Savage's excellent Rants Roids n Rasslin. But, no, I haven't really been keeping up.
Still, I'm intrigued that a number of high-end eroto-wrestling sites--Can-Am, No Rules Wrestling's SuperHeroFights, and now Krushco--have turned to comic-book superheroes for inspiration, pulling in new generations of kink-meisters. And frankly, if putting a mask (even a paper bag) over my head and slipping into a fluorescent body stocking can get me on the mats with some strapping sweaty muscle god in a bikini, call me Stretch Spectro and hand me my laser whip and atomic vaporizer ... I said NOW, bitch!
Krushco's cherry-popping venture into this territory pits Krush himself against a new super-villain, Haruki Hatori, a tall kungfu-fighting yellow menace. Insensitive cultural stereotypes aside, let's just say that if somebody came to my pajama party dressed like Hatori and built like Hatori, he would not be turned away. I want to see more of this bad boy. And by "more" I mean somebody's gotta peel the yellow clean off this jerk and let me see some skin.
Krush appears to be the he-man for the job. Lacking HH's electromagnetic superpowers and quasi-karate skills, Krush relies on the old reliables--gut punching, sleeper holds, and knees to the abs. "I don't need any superpowers to beat you," he growls.
It's all in good fun. Krush grumbles bitterly, like Hellboy pulling an all-nighter, as Hatori eludes conquest and shoots his mystifying whammy ray at the big hero's unprotected flesh and conjures up a blinding fog to try to disorient and vanquish all that's good and decent on Planet Krushco. Krush, meanwhile, aims to unmask the nefarious (though undeniably strapping) intergalactic biped--as if unmasking him would solve anything--though perhaps it would, at least, be a start.
But can a mere mortal like Krush--however equipped with fantabulous hairy heaps of muscle and the best pelvic thrust in the business--defeat a being who knows no human boundaries? I won't give it away. But I feel that I would be deceiving you guys if I didn't warn you that this match ends with a cliffhanger, clearly indicating that this is part of a series that may grow into epic dimensions ... and it may be weeks, months, years, decades, before we find out whether earthling or alien gets the last laugh.
But who's complaining?