If you do, congratulations. You're one of the lucky few who didn't have their brains fried by sheer awesome. We thank you for your devotion and are glad to see that whatever correctional institute and/or psychiatric hospital you currently call home allows you to have internet access. Good for you!
If you don't, congratulations. You really dodged a bullet there. Now please stand still while we reload.
WHAT IS RFU?
A question a child might ask, but not a childish question. Once upon a time, four lowly schmucks wrote a series called RFU, a masterpiece of mediocrity and shame that spanned the whole of space and time, telling tales of love, loss, humor, action, and kicking Nazis in the face. Mostly that last part. But there was more to RFU than just kicking Nazis in the face. There was also kicking Nazis in the balls, punching Nazis in the face, stabbing Nazis in the face, shooting Nazis in the face, setting Nazis on fire, having Nazis be violated by giant genetically altered fire ants... we covered all the bases. A significant amount of Nazi-killin', I guess that's what I'm getting at here. It was basically just glorified fanfiction, but it was fun. People liked it.
Time passed. The four schmucks went on to more "legitimate" projects, and RFU died an inglorious death when they all went away for the weekend and forgot to leave any food in its bowl. It was then buried in a shallow grave in the garden next to Fluffy - poor, poor Fluffy - and the saga of RFU came to an end.
Anyway, those four schmucks I mentioned? I'm one of 'em. Name's Jack Barton. Some folks call me Weasel. Together, we are Porch Time Productions, and we have something of a problem...
THE SCAM BEGINS...
So a few months back, the four of us are all just chilling out on the porch - hence the name - when suddenly three guys in pointy hats show up talking all kinds of craziness about magic and the apocalypse and supervillains and blah blah blah blah blah. Whatever. Same thing happened in RFU, so we just figure they're psycho fans or cosplayers or something. They're willing to pay us to come to their "universe", which we assume is either some kind of convention or a windowless van where they're gonna do some sick stuff to us. Either way, it's a good way to kill an afternoon, so we agree.
An hour later, we're in an actual factual alternate universe and the Pointy Hat Guys are seriously expecting us to, y'know, do stuff. Anyone who knows us knows that doing stuff is not our strong suit, so we spend the next few weeks stringing the PHGs along instead. We got money, a nice house, and nice stuff to fill it with. The other guys even got some superpowers out of the deal. I kinda got shafted on that one, but I did get them to put a Dr. Pepper dispenser in my car, which is pretty badass. The point is, we took those suckers for all they were worth, figuring that we'd live it up on their dime until they'd eventually realize their mistake and just boot us back home.
That... kinda came back to bite us in the ass.
...AND IMMEDIATELY BACKFIRES.
We've now been in what we're calling the RFUniverse for eight months. The PHGs are refusing to let us go back home until we repay them for everything we mooched off of them, which is pretty much impossible. So against our will, we actually have to do our jobs and save the world if we don't want to die in the same fiery apocalypse as everyone else. This is troublesome because, as I said, we are schmucks.
I got thrown out of a plane last week. There's currently a guy with superspeed in my living room playing video games with a telekinetic Jewish supervillain who's tried to kill me twice in the past 72 hours. He crashes on our couch sometimes. My pyromaniac best friend has killed Adolf Hitler no less than eighteen times. Killed me once too. It was weird. There's a gay superspy reading all my emails and an FBI agent rifling through our garbage. Our dog talks, a time-travelling douchebag is trying to erase the children that we don't even have yet, and I'm fairly certain our furnace is haunted. This is my life now.
Please, for the sake of my sanity, help me make a comic about it.
RFU LIVES, APPARENTLY.
And we live in it now, I guess. Might as well share the story. The PHGs cut off our funding, so we need your help to make this book happen. I went on the Craigslist looking for an artist and hired the first person who didn't try to murder or molest me. Later on, we found out he could also draw, so that worked out pretty well. His name is Steve Bentley, and his work kicks ass. Check it out.
PHOENIX! A man who believes that the shortest distance between two points is the Road of the Fist. His fist. In your face. With punching.
BRYLLIN! Throwing lightning from his hands like a mighty black Zeus! Y'know who else was once a mighty black Zeus? Samuel L. Jackson. Die Hard With A Vengeance. You wanna cross that man? No? Didn't think so.
INFERNO! Given the opportunity, he would set your junk on fire and then stomp it out. Only by contributing to our Kickstarter will your man and/or lady parts be safe.
WEASEL! I... don't actually really merit the Caps Lock, to be honest. I'm just some guy. I got nice hair, I guess? That's almost like a super power. For narcissists.
HITZER! Adolf Hitler with alien superpowers. Also, he can't die. He's a jackass and we hate him. You should too.
CALEB! Our handsome Hebrew homeboy. He says he's only working with Hitzer so he can kill him eventually. Personally, I think it's for the dental plan.
KING! Of all the people who've tried to kill me lately, this lunatic is totally my favorite.
VIOLET! Violence is her middle name. Literally. Violet Violence Valance. I love it for being so damn Silver Age-y, but hate it for about a million other reasons. She cute though.
As I understand it, this world used to have plenty of superheroes. Too many, in fact. Caleb and King were just two chumps trying to make a name for themselves by making the good guys in the Liberty Brigade look like idiots. They wanted to embarrass the good guys and make a name for themselves as the world's greatest villains. They succeeded. Boy, did they ever succeed. Suffice it to say, the Brigade no longer exists and about a hundred super guys were accidentally made deadsies. The bad guys won. And based on how much time they spend hanging out in my damn living room, I don't think they know what the hell they're supposed to do next. It's a long way to the top if you wanna rock n' roll, but where do you go once you get up there?
But I'm getting off topic. Hundreds of bad guys, no more good guys. The Pointy Hats figured that the complete destruction of all the world's superheroes was PROBABLY A BAD THING. So they came to us. Which was ALSO PROBABLY A BAD THING. They are bad at this. They are bad at protecting their world. Bad. Bad bad bad.
So now we have to beat up Nazis every day. Psychic spies. Alien warlords. Robot mages. Murderous marathon hosts. Multiversal hipsters. Also a chef for some reason. Still not entirely sure what that one was about. But that's life here. Let me tell you all about it in comic form.
Every issue features two stories ripped from the pages of our stupid shitty lives. The first story is RFU, all about the three raging jackasses who I call my best friends as they do battle with the forces of evil. And logic. And common decency. And each other. The second is a flashback to one year ago, when our malevolent pals Caleb and the King decided to take on the forces of good. And also logic. And also common decency. And - yes, once again - each other.
Aside from RFU #1, we're publishing this book in a digital only format. It keeps costs way down and lets us keep making the comics you (hopefully) love. It also lets us make the stories as long as we please. No need to jack up the price if we wanna give you more pages! But the purists among you shouldn't fret, because we're still going to collect each story arc in physical trade paperbacks. So digital for the month-by-monthers and physical for the trade-waiters. We'll give you RFU any way you like it. We're bringing fun back. We're bringing love back. We're bringing RFU back.
THE WORLD IS A MESSED UP PLACE.
There are wars and guns and hate and punk kids on skateboards with the rap musics. Don't you just wanna feel good again? Do you even remember what fun is like anymore? Aren't you tired of the universe stomping all over the crotches of our hearts on a daily basis? You want funny-ass comics. We want to make them for you. It's win-win. We just need a hand.
What's so funny 'bout peace, love, and understanding?
And I drop the mic.
- (30 days)