
I'm unenthusiastic about Sludge because, well, I've seen it all before. A cop falls into a chemical, then into the sewers. He's turned into a monster and would rather be dead. The monster has the cop's memories, but his mind is affected - he can't think straight. Oh, and get this: When he puts his hands on skin, it turns to putty and he can mash it in gross and exciting ways.

But it's not the same-old, same-old origin that loses me. It's not even the fact that Sludge is the only character well drawn by artist Aaron Lopestri (and he's a misshapen creature). No, it's the nastiness of the comic. Take, for example, this pointless drive-by that attracts Sludge's attention:


The two other issues I bought have gory autopsies, women being shot in the head, and people ripped in half by gunfire. Too nasty for any of Gerber's flights of fancy to keep me aboard. By the time Sludge tries to get drunk, well, I knew there was nothing left in the well.

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