TODD: THE UGLIEST KID ON EARTH VOL. 2
Writer: Ken Kristensen
Artist: M.K. Perker
Reviewer: Rob Patey (aka Optimous Douche – Ain’t It Cool News)
This second volume of TODD goes on easier than a used condom for old and new readers alike. The lambasting of the horrific world around us will resonate immediately for any and all carbon based life forms. However, if this is your first time with Todd, you should know a few things to avoid comic shock. I hope these warnings will also keep Kristensen out of jail or from being involuntarily committed for at least 24 hours after the book is placed on the shelves.
1) Todd the character isn’t the ugliest kid on earth; we actually don’t know what this 8-year-old embodiment of innocence actually looks like because he has worn a paper bag on his head since issue 1. Plus, I truly believe there is no child more heinous than Honey Boo Boo in aesthetic or aura.
2) TODD the book is an exercise in wrong. You will feel wrong for laughing at the misery subjected upon Todd from his image obsessed Mother, Bush II Fan Club President Father, bastard half-sister, Charlie Rose (yes, that one) and pretty much every other being that crosses Todd’s path. You will also need a Silkwood shower of the soul for laughing at the perpetual misfortune Todd suffers for our enjoyment.
3) Remember the moral here, always remember the moral. Kristensen pushes every taboo hot button imaginable, but there is always the donkey punch-line glorifying the stupidity of those around Todd. On the flip side, the few times things go well for Todd are always the result of his paper bag shielding him from becoming one of the horrible people. Todd always does right, and that’s the true point of this book.
80% of TODD could be called a slice-of-life book, which is a travesty given the moral repugnance of every character except Todd. However, I can not tell a lie, I meet a lot more people like the shitbags I mentioned earlier than purely innocent people like Todd. The other 20% is all comic book and that’s not simply because the book takes us to comic-con. This time around, Todd also traverses several planes of hell.
Why Comic Con? As John Belushi once said, “Burp…why not?” Actually it’s to solidify that Todd’s father is a moron. Because only a moron would pay an entrance admission and 300% mark-up for an item worn by some actor who was in a TV show that lasted for a season. I also believe we start at SDCC so Kristensen can perform a catharsisgasm all over famed comic book cluster fucks like: Quesada announcing MARVEL OLD, as the house of mouse gives up on getting kids to read comic books. Turning the wheelchair of a certain uber geek, who runs a site that rhymes with…taint shits fool jews…into a mecha of massive destruction. And…well there’s more, but to avoid ending up on a TSA watch list I’ll leave you with just the tame examples. So blatant and hilariously cruel are Kristensen’s jabs, it’s certain he’ll never work for another comic company.
While Todd’s Dad gets the jock strap he’s looking for from some Bruce Willis like character, he also procures the table of Charlie Rose. As we all know Charlie, PBS and that fucking interview table are all byproducts of Satan. Kristensen is merely reporting the news if you think about it. While we all know these truths, what is unbeknownst to us is that the table actually serves as a monorail between here and hell, presumably so PBS always has enough telephone operators for telethons.
Unfortunately for Todd, but fortunate for comedy, his half-sister is sucked inside the table and sent straight to the realm of the dark lord himself. To be specific, she ends up in Satan’s son’s bedroom, where Satan sends all virgins who enter hell in hopes the lad will give up his dreams of becoming a priest.
Things get worse from here, so I’ll end the official review part of this article by saying that Perker is the perfect pencil pusher to propagate the perpetual pummeling Todd receives from life. I generally find comedy books fall short on the art, but Perker has a way of bringing deadpan to life without ever making the page lifeless.
Since TODD finds a way to revel in the art of wrong across every panel, I can say without reservation or fear of pull-quote repurposing, I love TODD so much my dick is covered in paper cuts. If you don’t fear for the fate of your soul, go get your own Costco size bottle of Neosporin and join the fun.