SPORE WHORES #2-3
Steve Carter & Antoinette Rydyr
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More rape, disease, and slaughter!
   Spore Whores #2 continues to follow Sarge and Spacey Curio as they learn to survive in a spore-infested world, though for most of the story their paths do not cross. Several other characters are introduced to illustrate how the disease affects certain stratas of society, both physiologically and psychologically. The spore cycle, laid down in part one, is not so much expanded upon here as re-examined from disparate points of view - all of which merge or overlap during the narrative.
   A balding family man is captured by Spacey and her band of infected whores; he's soon helplessly pumping the meat in their hijacked "fucktruck". Later the poor "gimpsta" mutates into a hideous spore carrier, losing the memories of his raped wife and daughter along with his humanity. After escaping a gore-drenched skirmish with some "rotters" - unwillingly celibate spore whores resembling zombies - Spacey and her remaining spore sisters meet in a bar, unleashing their virus-induced bloodlust on two men. She then confronts Sarge in his flat to exact revenge for his extermination of her sisters in part one. Needless to say, more guts are spilled. In the epilogue Spacey and company, who have succumbed to the rotting phase of the disease, rape a scumbag business executive in a lavatory.
   Part three, subtitled Nest of the Necrofems, has Sarge fleeing the city in one of Carter's breadboard cars. Sarge happens upon a beaver-toothed red-neck being attacked by rotters, and decides to lend a helping shotgun. The rescued youth invites Sarge back to the homestead for some "country hospitaliddy," but it's not long before more chaos erupts.
   Meanwhile, things in the city have worsened. A huge compound has been built to contain and exterminate the growing number of rotters; one arresting page shows hundreds of them being torched in mass graves. (One guard rebukes another for comparing the scene to Dachau.) Captured by a clean-up squad, Spacey avoids the camp and heads for the hills. She meets up with an organised group of militant rotters, the eponymous necrofems one presumes, who have managed to halt putrefaction by farming healthy humans for intercourse. This is a major addition to spore whore anthropology: a social order among rotters, with a leader no less. That is until Spacey, Sarge and the Tasmanian Hillbillies arrive on the scene.
   Even though Spore Whores #2 has its moments, it is merely a prelude to the awesome Spore Whores #3, which in terms of scope, artistry, and invention, is easily the superior Spore Whores instalment. The rustic setting and the nest of predatory necrofems (who remind me of army ants) pours buckets of vitality into the saga.
   As mentioned, part three features the best artwork of the lot, although I've been told the earlier episodes were produced during a hectic work period. Whatever, the art in number three simply kicks arse. The attention to detail is extensive, for instance the cones of distant street lights on page 12, and the forest background on page 19. Every page benefits from the boosted level of ambition - choosing a favourite panel is difficult. A half point was deducted for the wonky knee joints alone.
   Those who dismiss SCAR's comics as sexually violent garbage don't allow themselves to appreciate the social commentary, the witticisms, the hokey dialogue, or the logically sound pseudo-biology. If their stories sometimes lack coherence, it is more due to the space limitations of the comic format rather than to any structural flaws. Pick up a Spore Whore today, if you can find one.
 

TOMB TALES #2
Scripts: Crumbl'in Charlie
Art: Various Artists
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Clichéd to the bone, the stories in Tomb Tales #2 don't even score points for tastelessness.
   'Jungle Rot' follows a game hunter's trek into Darkest Africa, searching for a legendary elephant burial ground. The hunter becomes the hunted after losing his helpers and pitching head-first into the web of a monster spider. In 'Say What?' the proprietor of a hospice for deaf men is taught a lesson when his abused residents turn the tables on him. 'Loggers at Loggerheads' restores its status quo with vengeance from the grave. A love triangle is shattered with a chainsaw gouge to the face; the jilted lover then rises to even the score. Lastly, the decaying customers of a tanning salon also lurch around in their cerements to roast a greedy business man in 'Canadian Bakin'.
   Hal "Horrid" Robins' artwork for the title pages and the 'Jungle Rot' tale is excellent, supremo. The remaining artists, Lino Viapiano, Dave Matsuoka, and Shawn Van Briesen, handle their assignments with verve, too. But without Horrid's contribution, Tomb Tales would be a dead loss given the weak scripts.
   These guys are switched on to horror - which is a good start. If writer Crumbl'in Charlie trusts his imagination long enough and stops reinventing the wheel, future Tomb Tales may be worth unearthing. I'll be watching out for them, if only to see more of Horrid's handiwork. EC artist Jack Kamen drew the cover art.