Monday, June 8, 2015
(New) Courage is being able to laugh even while drying. Rowlf, "A Journey to the Center of the Earth Story" by John Pirillo, fractals, stories
Rwolf
"A Journey to the Center of the Earth Story"
By John Pirillo
"Jesus!" Russ cried out after he slammed his
forehead into an unseen protuberance in their passage along a new stretch of
tunnel that Rwolf had discovered. "Rowlf!"
Rowlf looked back, his head ducked considerably, because of
his extreme height. "Rowlf."
"My head."
"Gwood head."
"Not what I mean." Russ gasped in pain, rubbing at
the blood he felt oozing from his bruised and cut scalp. "My
head...this!" He motioned with a bang onto his head.
Rowlf copied him, hitting himself in the forehead, and then
grinning like an idiot child, if you can call the grimace of demon like face
grin. "Dwis!"
"I give up!" Russ cursed, and then pushed past
Rowlf, using his hand to trace the overhead rocks as he moved forward.
Everett patted Rowlf on his forehead in a friendly manner.
"He's got a bugger up his butt. Ignore him."
"Wuss fwunny!" He made a disgustingly gross
imitation of a bark of laughter, which caused both Russ and Everett to clench
their ears tightly against it.
Rowlf shut up.
Russ let go, relieved it had stopped. He felt his forehead
again. "We don't find some water soon; I'll be drinking my own
blood."
"Dwisgwusting!" Rowlf snorted.
"You tell him, Rowlf." Everett laughed.
Russ looked back and gave them both a look of utter disgust,
then turned back to the way he had been facing. "I think the glitter moss
gets thicker ahead."
"Why would you think that?"" Everett demands,
squeezing to Russ's side to look. "Oh."
Ahead of them a sprinkling of light that shimmered at a low
in intensity was spread and then got brighter as the passage lengthened further
down the line.
"Water." Russ said, smacking his dry lips.
"Wasser." Rowlf said, rubbing the top of his head.
Russ and Everett gave him annoyed looks. "We don't drink
water through our head, Rowlf." Russ scalded their companion.
"Rowlf dwoes." He barked, about to laugh, then
catching himself on their glares.
They fumbled the rest of the way, managing only a few more
scrapes and bumps in pools of shadow until they reached the thicker clumps of
glitter moss. This was a new breed from what Russs could discern. He felt it
with a hand and the moss brightened. He took his hand off and it dimmed.
"On and off." Everett noted.
Then they both gave each other a knowing look.
"Light!" Russ grinned.
"Finally." Everett grinned back.
Rowlf rubbed his forehead, scratching it with his sharp
clawed fingers, making a horribly grating sound that caused both Russ and
Everett to squeal in discomfort. Rowlf froze.
Russ and Everett sighed with relief.
Rowlf scratched again.
They cursed.
He stopped.
Rowlf gave them one of his fiendish grins again. "Wah,
wah."
"I'll wah wah you, you big armored insect."
Everett threatened.
Rowlf started to laugh, but Russ got to him first and
clamped a hand over his mouth."Really?"
Rowlf shook his head. Russ let go.
"I think we can make a simple flashlight out of this
stuff." Russ suggested.
"Gotcha." Everett replied, figuring out the same
thing.
They spent the better part of an hour, scrounging through
the few things they carried in their pockets and slings, and then made a very
crude flashlight for themselves and Rowlf. Rowlf immediately started playing
his like a small child playing with a sparkler, swinging it round and round,
making huge circles of motion blur light, which caused his eyes to blaze with
awe. So he kept on doing it, making sounds that both Russ and Everett found
charming and soothing.
A very simple sound. He purred.
"Just a stupid overgrown kitty." Russ commented.
"With armor like a tank." Everett reminded him.
"There's that." Russ agreed.
They watched Rowlf play with his light for several hours,
then their fatigue took over and their eyes slammed shut. Rowlf, however, was
not sleepy. He slept rarely and even then only for a few minutes at a time. He
never seemed to grow tired. Just like a little kid, mused Russ, experiencing a
brief pang of loneliness and regret, before he was slung off into the
nethermost regions of sleep.
When he woke up, Rowlf was seated in that strange stance he
usually assumed, where his knees popped up above his head and his arms slung
out front like a ramp to his chin. He held a large stone, about a hundred
pounds worth judging from its size, which was hollow. Inside the hollow was...
"Water!"Russ exclaimed.
"Wahwah." Rowlf agreed, nodding at it.
Everett woke up. "I didn't do it, Sheila, she
did."
Russ glanced at his waking friend. "Who's Sheila and
what did you do to her?"
Everett gave Russ a blank look, and then discovered the
water, which was a mere few inches from his prone position. Russ never got his
answer. Everett thrust his face in the large bowl of water and drank so loudly
that the passageway echoed his slurps. Finished, he rolled out of the way and
Russs did the same.
Both satiated, they looked to Rowlf, who stood up with the
bowl and proceeded to pour it down the top of his head.
"I'll be damned!" Russ said. "He does drink
through that thick skull of his."
Rowlf understood enough to bark with laughter, spitting out
water as he did into their faces.
"Disgusting!" Russ cursed.
"Wet and disgusting." Everett agreed, moping at
the dripping water all over his face.
Rowlf set down the stone bowl, and then squatted again
between the two men. "Nwow?"
"Now we find food." Russ said, gathering his
things and standing, stretching as he did.
Everett sighed, and then forced himself up as well. His
stomach made a sound like a laundry machine for a moment. Everyone looked at
him.
"Mwonster?" Rowlf asked, plainly surprised at the
sound, as he always was.
"Not this time, Rowlf, nor the last, nor the next
time." Everett scalded him. "You have the memory of a rock."
Rowlf grinned that horrible grimace. "Twanks."
"You're welcome." Said Everett, smiling in spite
of himself.
They plodded along the stretch of tunnel, which began to
broaden and then they found themselves looking at a junction of four different
tunnels.
But not just that.
Russ dropped to a knee with an exclamation of excitement.
Everett joined him. "What is it?" Then he saw what Russ was looking
it. A candy wrapper. Hershey's.
They jumped up and began screaming like school kids,
thumping each other on the back, harder and harder, laughing so hard their
lungs and stomachs threatened to burst, while Rowlf stood back, watching them,
thinking they were dying or worse.
Finally, their fit of excitement subsided, and hard reality
set in. "Could have been months ago." Russ noted.
Everett's happy face vanished into a scowl. "Damn you
for being the practical one."
"Someone's gotta rub our faces in it."
Everett kicked the wrapper aside. Russ watched the paper
flutter in the air and then land several feet away. Like two small children
they both cried out and dove for the paper. Russ got to it first, and then
ripped it in half, giving the other part to Everett. They both started to lick
the wrapper, and then froze, as they realized what they were doing.
"We're idiots!" Russ said. "It's just
paper."
"Yeah. Paper." Everett echoed.
Rwolf cleared his throat.
They both gave him a guilty look and without thinking twice
about it, ripped their portions in half and gave it to Rowlf, who promptly
shoved it into his mouth. He let out a huge sound of disgust, and then spit it
out like a rocket.
Russ ducked as the paper shot at him splatting into the
wall, where it was covered with a greenish kind of ichor. Rwolf's spit was
green.
"That was a waste." Everett looked at the lost
paper sadly.
"Sad. Sad. Sad." Russ agreed, then he greedily
began licking at his portion of the wrapper as his friend did the other.
Finally, they ate the paper, swallowed it, and then rubbed
their stomachs.
Rowlf gave them a look of alarm, which resembled a bear
about to attack. "Youse kwazy!"
"Yeah." Everett agreed. "Dead crazy, for
sure."
"Absolutely nuts." Russ nodded.
Then both men began scrambling on the floor, looking for
more discards. They found a butt of a cigarette, then a spent bullet shell,
then another and another. It led into the third tunnel.
They got to their feet and turned to face Rowlf, who gave
them another look. Question?
"Something attacked them."
"Rowlf wheat swoon!" He said, rubbing his stomach
area.
Both Russ and Everett made faces, and then trudged into the
new tunnel. Whatever happened, one thing was constant, Rowlf never ceased to
amaze them.
Sunday, June 7, 2015
(New) Exciting Artist Enrique Parietti is featured at ImagineNation (http://johnpirilloauthor.blogspot.com/)
Enrique Parietti is one of the finest artists I've seen. The kind of work he has featured in this article is superlative and shows an attention to detail that is quite remarkable.
I think this artist has so much to give that I'm featuring him today on ImagineNation. The work featured on this page is from his website: http://eparcg.blogspot.com.es/
ENRIQUE PARIETTI 3D
Portfolio
CG ARTIST - 3D
GENERALIST
ENRIQUE PARIETTI 3D
Portfolio
CG ARTIST - 3D
GENERALIST
His website.
(New) The Hound From Hell, "A Sherlock Holmes Story," by John Pirillo, fractals, stories, at ImagineNation (http://johnpirilloauthor.blogspot.com/)
"A Sherlock Holmes Story"
By John Pirillo
"Hickory, Dickory Doc, the Mouse Ran up the Clock. Now, come on Charlie, surely that's a contradiction of gravity as well as very bad colloquialism." Holmes said amiably to his friend, and partner in crime, Charlie Dickens, an up and coming author with no qualms about bragging about his writing prowess or insight into humanity.
Charlie, who lay on the crest of grass besides Holmes, resighted his binoculars on the second story window of the home they were going to break into. "I find it neither restrictive, nor worrisome, dear Holmes. A man may interpret the world as he likes, as long as he compromises no souls, nor enslaves or murders any."
"I admire your long views." Holmes replied, taking the binoculars from his friend, and sighting it on the first floor window. "But truly it is madness to allow just anyone to interpret the world as they like. Why criminals might come to think they could rule the world!"
Charlie turned to admire his friend, who was on the adventure with him. "Perhaps, but then we would have to find a way to stop them, wouldn't we. Imagine this, Charles Dickens and Sherlock Holmes, Crime Stoppers Extraordinaire!"
Holmes laughed. "I'd rather smoke a bloody pipe, than partner with my worst enemy."
Charlie barked with laughter. "I beat you once at chess, and now I'm your worst enemy?"
"You are until you write an apology." Holmes replied tersely.
"So what's the strategy, my good man?" Charlie asked, flipping his reddish hair aside, to reveal a freckled face with wide eyes, a thick nose, and a grin that would scare a lion.
Holmes laid down the binoculars, then steepled his hands in what was fast becoming a signature gesture for him over the years as he developed into full manhood. "I suspect the midnight approach would be best. These manners of people tend to go to sleep early."
"How can you tell they are that type? We've only been observing them for ten minutes?"
Holmes took the challenge. He pointed to the yard. "First, their laundry hangs on the lines still."
"Does not most laundry lie that way?"
"No, not of a night watchman. He usually brings them inside prior to dark. The fact that they are still wet, tells me that they allow them to dry over night, while at work."
"Then you are assuming there is no lady of the house?"
"Not at all." Again, Holmes pointed to the laundry line. "You will observe the thick trousers, the heavy suspenders, the woolen shirts and underwear with the boots drying beside them."
"Yes. That is all I see."
"Precisely." Holmes agreed. "Were there a woman of the house, she would never let him put the shorts next to the shoes on the line, for fear of them becoming discolored."
"Remarkable. What else do you see?"
"The man stands at least six feet tall. Weighs about 200 pounds, is barrel-chested, and carries quite a large belly."
Charlie shook the binoculars free of the grass, and took another look. "I see clothing, not sizes and heights."
"The clothesline is hung at approximately six feet off the ground. A shorter person could not reach it comfortably, and certainly not to place the pinches on the clothing to hold them there."
"I'll give you that. But what about the sizes?"
"See the waist of the pants and the shirt next to it?"
"Yes."
"The shirt is almost three times as wide as the waist, telling me that he has a large chest."
"But the belly?"
"Observe the bottom of the shirt."
"It's stained."
"Yes, by the extra fat in the folds of his flesh when he's working."
"Quite remarkable, Holmes. My hat is off to you."
"Your hat is nowhere near you."
"Matter of speaking."
Holmes gave Charlie an amused glance. "Now as to our attack. You shall fetch the ladder we built from the spare lumber below and place it to the rear of the cottage. I shall enter via the lower window in the kitchen."
"Why that way? If he's as big as you say, he probably lives in the kitchen."
Holmes laughs. "True enough, but when he eats so much, it draws the blood from his brain and starves his body for oxygen. He grows more tired, and compounded with his loss of sleep as a night watchmen, he goes to bed early and sleeps generally from about noon to ten, when he arises to face his new night of work."
"Why those particular hours? How can you tell that by looking at his clothing or the house?"
"Because night watchmen always begin their pursuit when the second bell before midnight chimes, and before the last bell from nine finishes. It is an old tradition in this part of the country."
"How so?"
"It is believed that demons come out at midnight, and that angels protect men who start their work before nine, but not after ten oh one."
"Rather quaint."
Holmes faces Charlie with a frown. "The demons or the tradition?"
"You tell me, since you're the criminologist."
"Very well. Demons can't survive the daylight, or the early part of night because of the moon's light...."
"But what when it's gone, hey old man?"
"The light is still there, but it is not as visible. It is reflected by the earth's atmosphere."
"I see. And the tradition?"
"Begun when London was still a rundown series of quickly built huts near the Thames."
"So you admit that the tradition could be flawed!"
"Not at all, Charlie. Traditions always have their roots in a truth, even if it is fantastical."
The sound of a bell ringing began from the distance.
Holmes rolled over and cupped his hands beneath his head, then closed his eyes.
"What are you doing now?"
"Getting some sleep. The night watchmen will rise just after ten, secure his clothing, then return inside to eat and leave for his job. We will break in shortly after that, but not at midnight, or after."
"Superstitious?"
"Practical. Good night, Mister Dickens!"
"Goodnight, Mister Holmes."
Charlie rolled over and relaxed as well, but could not sleep, because of all the avenues of pursuit his mind was traversing at that time. What if the guard did not leave at the appropriate time? Their bet had been to secure the item before Midnight and return it by dawn before he returned. The challenge was amusing at best, but worried him anyway, as most challenges they had received so far had cost them both many hours of slavish studies by their professor, who hated it when they made their adventures and came back with naught to share.
"One thing bothers me, Holmes."
"Indeed?"
"If the night watchman leaves his clothing out to dry all night while he works, why would he come outside to retrieve them then?"
"Another tradition." Holmes yawned. "One never leaves one private wears for thieves to discover and take."
"But he can't watch them all the time!" Charlie insisted.
"Did you not observe the long stretches of brown near the poles for the clothing?"
Charlie stiffened. "Dear lord, we're going to break into a home with a hound?"
"Precisely. Goodnight."
Holmes began to snore.
Charlie lay there, pondering all the imponderables, and then fell asleep quite by accident. When he awoke, Holmes was up already and rubbing his hands together vigorously to warm them. The moon was high overhead.
"Ready, my good man?"
"Rather, but the hound?"
"Sleeping."
"How so, if it is a guard dog?"
Holmes smiled, and revealed a small vial which he uncapped to allow Charlie to smell it. Charlie did so, making a face. "You devil you!"
"Compliments will get you nowhere."
"Then lets at it!"
They both shrugged back into their proper cloaks, and then crept down the rise to the cottage.
When they returned to the campus the next morning to reveal the item they had captured from their adventure, the Professor gave them both a huge smile. "And everything went perfectly?"
"Yes, except the part where the hound tore the bottom of my britches off." Charlie said angrily, giving Holmes a scowl.
The Professor eyed Holmes questioningly. "It's really quite elementary. Mister Dickens here made a common mistake."
"Which was?"
"To eat that horrible cheese that smells like rotting corpses."
"I do not!" Charlie protested, and then he simmered down. "Well, maybe a little."
"Hounds have a superlative sense of smell, and once Charlie had descended into the home from the second floor, even though he was as quiet as a mouse, his odor preceded him."
"Then why didn't you tell me I smelled so?" Charlie protested angrily, his face turning crimson red.
The Professor laughed, and then put a hand on Charlie's shoulder to calm him down. "You see, I've played a bit of a trick on you, Mister Dickens. My father has trained his dog to hate that odor, and when I persuaded you to eat that sandwich I had made of it, I knew full well you would be caught."
"I could have lost more than my britches!" Charlie protested.
"Not at all." A very large man said, entering the classroom from the Professor's office. "I was watching the entire time."
Charlie glared at Holmes. "You knew this was going to happen?"
"The item we were sent to steal was an apple from the kitchen table, but the item I was sent to retrieve was your pride."
Charlie's face reddened. "I should challenge you to a duel for this insult to my honor!"
Holmes shrugged. "You would lose."
"I am a crack shot."
"But you forget one thing."
"And that is?"
"Without this night, you would have no material for your thesis, which I might add, is long overdue." The Professor jumped in.
Charlie sighed. "I can't win this battle."
"Nor should you." Holmes told him with a smile. "If we are to become partners in crime, then we must also be able to take our lumps, as well as our prizes."
Charlie nodded, but his mind was elsewhere. He suddenly had this great idea for a story. About a man who gives up everything, his kingdom, his way of life, even his wife, to learn what a poor man must experience.
Charlie brightened. "I just had this brilliant idea for a novel. I shall call it the Hound of the Baskervilles. About a man who gives up everything, and then is murdered."
Holmes smiled.
"Sounds like a tale of horror." The Professor said with a grin.
"It shall be a hound from hell like the one that nipped my behind."
The Professor's father laughed, and then clapped his hand. A dog barked and came running from the office. It was the hound. Its ears shot straight up as Charlie backed away.
The Professor glanced at Holmes. "You put the cheese in his pocket?"
Holmes said nothing.
Charlie screamed like a madman and ran for his life as the hound bounded after him.
"He shall never forgive you for this." The Professor told Holmes.
"Perhaps, but now he shall have an even better story to tell."
"Which is?"
"How to avoid being eaten by a hunting hound."
They both broke into laughter.
Holmes nodded to the Professor's father. "I'd better catch the two of them, before the hound does put an end to his life."
"Don't worry, lad." The father said. "That hound couldn't harm a fly!"
"HOLMES!" Charlie's word of terror shot into the room.
All the men ran outside and saw Charlie on the grass, and the hound licking his face vigorously, while fellow students laughed and laughed.
Saturday, June 6, 2015
(New) A Short 3D Animation I made. No sound though. at ImagineNation (http://johnpirilloauthor.blogspot.com/)
I created this as a test of caustics and flexibility for my water and fish. I call the piece "Whoopee," well, jut because that's how I felt when I completed it. Whoopee, it worked!
(New) World War Two Hero: Golden Age Movie Serial: Spy Smasher, Chapter One at ImagineNation (http://johnpirilloauthor.blogspot.com/)
From Wikipedia --
Spy Smasher is the name of two fictional characters appearing in comics published by DC Comics. The first is a superhero that was formerly owned and published by Fawcett Comics. The second is a female anti-terrorism government agent.
Fictional character biography[edit]
Alan Armstrong[edit]
Similar to Batman and the Blue Beetle (Ted Kord), Spy Smasher (real name Alan Armstrong) is a master detective, equipped with a number of gadgets and a specialized vehicle, the "Gyrosub", which was a combination of an airplane, an automobile, and a submarine. Created by Bill Parker and C. C. Beck, Spy Smasher was introduced in Whiz Comics #2 (February 1940). Alongside Captain Marvel, Spy Smasher became one of the magazine's most popular characters. In Whiz Comics #16-18, he was briefly an opponent of Captain Marvel, as a Nazi Scientist and old enemy of his, the Mask, used a device to brainwash him, but finally Captain Marvel was able to restore his mind.
His name was changed to Crime Smasher after World War II ended, and the first issue of Crime Smasher was published in 1948. In 1953, Fawcett ceased publication of all superhero comics, after settling a lawsuit against DC Comics over Captain Marvel being aninfringement on the copyright of Superman, agreeing to cease publishing Captain Marvel.
After DC Comics obtained the rights to the Fawcett characters in 1972, Spy Smasher began appearing irregularly in DC Comics, presented as one of the heroes of Earth-S prior to Crisis on Infinite Earths. He first appeared in Crisis in Eternity, as a member of theSquadron of Justice when King Kull had captured Shazam and the Elders, and teamed up with other villains to wipe out life on all three Earths, and defeated Ibac on Earth-Two as he attacked Atlantis by tricking him into saying 'I back down from no-one,' defeating him as saying his name causes him to turn into a normal man and vice versa. The character was used prominently in the 1990s series The Power of Shazam!, in which aged Alan Armstrong often recounts his adventures as Spy Smasher. Power of Shazam! #24 was dedicated to Armstrong's recounting of a Cold War-era mission he undertook with an archaeologist named C.C. Batson to Batson's children, Billy (alter-ego of Captain Marvel) and Mary (alter-ego of Mary Marvel).
While Alan was still Spy Smasher in that story, a crossover between Power of Shazam and Starman in 1997 included Jack Knightrunning over the history of the Fawcett City heroes, and mentioning that he thought Spy Smasher became Crime Smasher after the war but was unsure.
AC Comics has published reprints of some Golden Age Spy Smasher stories that have lapsed into the public domain. The character also made a cameo appearance the inaugural issue of Image Comics' Next Issue Project.
Powers and abilities[edit]
Spy Smasher is an intelligent scientist and inventor, a master detective and a skilled hand to hand combatant. He also possessed a number of gadgets and a specialized vehicle.
Katarina Armstrong[edit]
A new Spy Smasher, government agent Katarina Armstrong, created by Gail Simone, first appears in Birds of Prey #100 (January 2007). She is a high-ranking anti-terrorism agent who is affiliated with several American, Commonwealth, and United Nations agencies (see table). Her relation to Alan Armstrong has not been revealed, though her secret identity and costume seem clearly inspired by him. She is depicted in her first appearances as having a domineering demeanor, and is not hesitant to kill or order deaths in order to complete a mission. Having forced Oracle to work for her, she plans to take over the Birds of Prey organization and usurp Oracle's position. Issue #103 indicates that Katarina and Oracle were friends in college. At some point prior to Katarina's debut, they became rivals. That issue shows a flashback of both women competing in a race, with Katarina beating Barbara by cheating but immediately confessing to the judges after she had won.
Katarina accompanies the Birds on a mission in Russia, and in a conflict with the Secret Six, Katarina finds her equal marksman inDeadshot. Katarina assumes leadership of the Birds from Oracle and fires Lady Blackhawk for dissent.[1] Back at Oracle's base, she is challenged to a fight by Oracle, who then manages to give Katarina a proper beating. She is humiliated when she faces the united front of every single one of Barbara's living former agents. Spy Smasher leaves disgraced after being threatened by Black Canary, but before doing so also gives Oracle information on Misfit's background.
It was later mentioned in Checkmate #16 by Sasha Bordeaux that Josephine Tautin had "drop-kicked her down a deep, dark hole. Something she quite enjoyed doing, incidentally."Checkmate #18 has Sasha personally apologising to Barbara for Katarina's actions.
In the aftermath of Final Crisis, Katarina is seen being held prisoner by the Global Peace Agency. The GPA agents apparently erase all of her memories by "resetting" her brain, tellingCameron Chase that Katarina can hear their conversations but can no longer process what the sounds mean. Her current fate is unknown,[2] though it is implied that she was returned to normal, as with many other characters in the story, after Nemesis and Chase use the cosmic treadmill.
During the events of Brightest Day, an unknown villain begins targeting the members of the Birds of Prey. Oracle initially muses that it could be Katarina's doing, as she has the means and motive to harm the Birds, but it is eventually revealed to be the work of the White Canary.[3]
Spy Smasher is eventually revealed to be alive and well when she recruits Bane and his new team of mercenaries (consisting of himself, Jeannette, Lady Vic, King Shark, Dwarfstar andGiganta) to invade and claim Skartaris in the name of the U.S.[4]
Characterization[edit]
Creator Gail Simone said on Katarina, "I felt the DCU needed a Jack Bauer. In these early issues, she looks like a pointed allegory to the abuse of powers by the government, but she doesn’t see it that way, and she’s a lot more complex than that. It’d be a cheat to simply make her evil and completely hate-able, I think. She’s got some levels. And she knows Babs’ weaknesses. I like her. She’s very very dark... Even above [Barbara and Katarina's] competitive natures, there is a perfectly valid and honest ideological difference of opinion there. Babs believes what she’s doing is necessary, Katarina believes what Babs is doing is treason. They actually like each other, but like brothers fighting on opposite sides of the Civil War, the distance between them is so vast and clearly drawn that they can’t even hope to reconcile. They were friends; their ideals make them bitter enemies."[5]
Powers and abilities[edit]
Spy Smasher is an expert markswoman and a skilled hand to hand combatant on a similar level to Deadshot. She claims to be of higher political authority than anyone in the United States, even the President, but is later outranked in an issue of Checkmate by Sasha Bordeaux. Although she explicitly states that her job is to kill people, specifically terrorists and those who aim to harm the United States, she has yet to be directly depicted as taking a life.
In other media[edit]
Television[edit]
- Spy Smasher made a brief appearance in Justice League Unlimited episode "Patriot Act" voiced by Nathan Fillion who remained uncredited. He is seen in a flashback sequence where he prevented the creation of Captain Nazi and confiscating the unstable serum that would be used later in the episode.
Film[edit]
- In 1942, Spy Smasher was adapted into a popular 12-part film serial directed by William Witney for Republic Pictures. Spy Smasher featured actor Kane Richmond in a dual role, as both the title character (an American freelance agent in Nazi-occupied France who was originally believed to have been killed in a plane crash) and his identical twin brother, andMarguerite Chapman as the brother's imperiled fiancée, Eve Corby. Edited down to 100 minutes in 1966 the serial was re-released for television under the title Spy Smasher Returns.
Video game[edit]
- Spy Smasher will appear in the video game DC Universe Online.
References[edit]
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