As a rule, Toxic Crusaders #1 was more of what I wanted from this ongoing “Toxie Renaissance.” Writer Matt Bors continued to nail the timely-but-schlocky tone of this new team, and the art team (artist Tristan Wright, colorist Lee Loughridge, and letterer Rob Steen) backed it all up with whiz-bang visuals of a weird-but-familiar Tromaville post-toxic spillage.
Even still, I worried about an over-focus on No-Zone and Fungirl, and a marked de-emphasis on Toxie, and what it might mean for the future of Toxic Crusaders at-large. His name’s not just in the title — Toxie is a gross but compelling presence in this story world.
As it turns out, issue #2 not only addresses these issues, but it may be the start of something even more novel and compelling.
Courtesy of AHOY Comics.
Here’s what you need to know coming into Toxic Crusaders #2. The team (rounded out by Major Disaster and Junkyard) are dealing with the continued ploys of the Smogulans, who are ruining the Earth as part of their eventual takeover. Issue #2, then, sees the team specifically grappling with Mister P, who unlike Mister K’s more environmentally-destructive tendencies, is sowing discourse by tanking the global economy.
If that relevancy stings so deep it makes you want to projectile vomit, that’s sort of the point. Dating back to his work with The Nib, Bors has always done a stellar job dissecting the idiocy and fecklessness of our modern times. In Toxic Crusaders #2 especially, that form of satire is at its most radioactively potent — there’s talk of oil derivatives and mutual funds wielded with the same depth, joy, and efficiency as a supervillain and their death ray. If Lex Luthor were real, he’d be Larry Ellison.
And that’s why it’s so genius: Bors is grounding some very real concepts and ideas into the realm of cheesy comic book (and vice versa), and the end result is something wonderfully jarring. You feel the sting of these very real events, but filtered through something deeply silly and ridiculous, and in that way the sheer absurdity of it all is painfully clear — folks, we’ve maneuvered ourselves into the realm of total ridiculousness. It’s not about mitigating real-world ails, but rather positioning everything in that way that good satire does to dissect what’s really going on. And, ladies and germs, it’s not pretty.
Courtesy of AHOY Comics.
It’s an approach furthered by the art team’s unwavering inventiveness. Wright’s work expertly rides the line between organic realism and “Saturday Morning Cartoon Madness.” What we get, then, is something that further shocks the system but not so much that you forget the real human drama and socio-political undertones.
So whether it’s Toxic ripping off an alien’s face in sweet, gory action, or Major Disaster communing with the very earth (in a moment that feels massively informative for the state of our current wellbeing), the art continues to push and pull our sensibilities like a veteran potter. And through that back-and-forth, Toxic Crusaders has yet another tool to make us think about the state of the world, what we’ve contributed, what’s still left to lose, and how even a comic book with toxic mutants somehow undersells the ridiculousness of life in 2025.
Between the story’s tone and overall look, it feels like we’re in the perfect sweet spot for this story. Not just between the bizarre and the earnest, the absurd and the painfully real, but in a place where all the best Troma properties exist. That you can have your cake (if it’s mutant violence) and eat it, too, because the best satire feels like a friend bringing you in. It’s a deeply personal, unwaveringly human approach, one that never bashes you over the head or over-lectures the audience. Rather, it makes you laugh and smile just enough to see the rotten core of this version of Tromaville, and how there’s good people (who are also deeply weird) trying to make it right.
Courtesy of AHOY Comics.
And speaking of that humanity, one of the other major accomplishments of Toxic Crusaders #2 (aside from great Junkyard dialogue, solid character development for Major Disaster, and some keen insight into the Smogulans’ plan) is this kind of leveling of the playing field. Yes, Toxie doesn’t necessarily get his more of a starring role, and maybe that’s an issue for the long-term.
But in #2, No-Zone and Fungirl are mostly relegated to cameos (their punishment for, effectively, blowing up a chemical plant in #1) and Major Disaster has a more of a starring role. That works for a few reasons: Not only is our former black ops soldier really interesting (he maintains a certain Everyman presence in this story), but it’s seemingly more and more that each issue focuses on a different team member. And that’s going to be vital down the road, because if we’re going to have a proper team book, we need a good team. Plus, it’s obvious between AHOY’s other books, Toxie will have plenty of page time as we go.
But it’s not just the Toxic Crusaders who get a kind of organizational re-alignment; it’s our villains, too. While Mister P may be the star foe across this issue, Mister K (alongside Bonehead and Psycha) are working to prepare their own vengeance against the Toxic Crusaders. Visually, it feels like it’s an opportunity to show them off for the first time, and through the art team’s efforts, these foes emerge raw and real — like we can feel the pain and desperation pouring off them as they plot their machinations from some house likely to be foreclosed. It’s a moment for the villains to coalesce, and it feels small but mighty.
Courtesy of AHOY Comics.
And that kind of psychic pain is crucial. Yes, the Toxic Crusaders will seemingly have more “Misters” to do deal with, but they haven’t escaped the deeply intimate “relationship” with K and his associates. This tension will serve as the series’ proper emotional core, something to keep us connected to the deeply human aspects of this story that cut through the humor, relevance, insanity, etc.
And in turn, that feels like another expression of Toxic Crusaders‘ goals to drill to the mushy center of this singular moment in time. That despite our differences, all of us are suffering under the weight of dummies in power, these cretins who want to burn the world down just to warm their wittle hands. That’s not to mitigate the very real dissections and discussions facilitated by this book; there are actual cretins doing heaps of things that are socially, economically, environmentally destructive, and not even 100 rounds of “Kumbaya” will ever truly heal our rift.
Rather, this story looks at how people deal with loss and change, and how some people go the route of healing while others would rather bite and scratch at our own wounds just to make a little noise. That to me feels even more like the best kind of satire: Pointed and thoughtful, for sure, but deeply, deeply human, and as interested in spreading the blame (and maybe the responsibility?) for un-bungling the mess we’ve found ourselves in right now. Not that any solution is offered (beyond to stop letting dingbats have a say), but sometimes a rag-tag group of mutants standing up for what’s good and decent is the only start you really need.
Courtesy of AHOY Comics.
I kept thinking that I would’ve loved to see this issue actually serve as the beginning of Toxic Crusaders. Again, not that #1 was somehow bad or lacking (I did give it a shimmery 8.5 after all). Rather, that where issue #1 got a little lost in its way from the cartoon realm into the comics kingdom, issue #2 instantly sets the stage. There was an exciting alien invasion, massively timely social critiques, heaps of blood and gore, and all the heart needed to align these tent-poles and make a truly important story lambasting our world and offering the optimism of meaningful satire.
At this rate, Toxic Crusaders #3 could be an even more satisfying (and decidedly bonkers) affair.
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