
With a title like that, you don't need a caption.


Love is in the air in the Lost Land, and Turok and Regan, after their hasty separation over a dozen issues ago and too wrapped up in ridiculous plots
to make up in the interim, finally have a chance to kick back and simply enjoy
each others' company. After their prior arguments regarding the standing
between them, it seems they might finally get a chance to say what they really want to
say...?

Not today.

The gang are on their way to Captain Red's village; it's been a while since
they last met after kicking Campaigner's hiney, and Regan could do with an
opportunity to meet the locals. Along the way they investigate some weird ruins, and if ever
there was a symbol of the clash of cultures Mothergod imposed upon her worlds,
this is it: architectural stylings owing to a plethora of European cultures,
Roman and Celtic among them... and also a hell of a lot of Nazi imagery.

Surprise! They're scoped out by Nazi cave babes! ... and Bigfoot! They
don't take kindly to intruders on sacred turf, and Turok's all set to go
toe-to-toe, but Regan, ever the peacekeeper, explains they're just passing
through on their way to see Captain Red.



Surprise! The Nazis don't like Captain Red either, or anyone associated with
him! The trio are captured and to be taken to their fortress, with uncouth uses in mind
for the studly Turok. Oof. Being subjected to unwarranted intercourse isn't the
only method these ladies have in mind for reviving their regime...

... because in their fortress is an armoury of surface-to-air missiles, a flying saucer with Elvis Presley
in the driver's seat, and the body of Adolf Hitler preserved in a statis
chamber. What could they possibly have in store for such a unorthodox horde!?
Hoo boy. Welcome to batshit central, folks! And say hello to the very first Turok comic I ever read. This might have skewed my perception of the franchise just a teensy bit, to say the least. It is in no way indicative of of the series' tone whatsoever, instead yet another screwball love letter to corny B-movies like in issue #31... but holy moly, if all you want is the balls-to-the-wall ridiculous nonsense one got out of the Nintendo 64 games, this fits that niche in a way only 90s comic books can deliver.

I so love Rags Morales' artwork, and its pairs beautifully with Truman's character
writing. Even simple things like Turok's expressions and posture when he at
first chastises Andy, then praises his work after seeing the fruits of his
labour, it feels so Turok to me. This is a man who has been soured by the world in so
many regards, yet still finding it in his heart to encourage and appreciate his
wayward apprentice slowly learning the ways of olde.
Likewise, the Nazis and their freakin' gorilla in a CAT cap are just bursting with outrageous cartoon energy. They look ridiculous, like a parody of Tank Girl, and their assault and capture of the heroes is just filled with gorgeous, ridiculous details. The ankylosauruses with SS symbols painted on their side. Andar nearly getting his ear chewed off. Freakin' Bigfoot, it bears repeating! The last half of the book is practically wordless compared to its front end, but the panels are all treats, full of terrific shots, great colouring, and so many absurd details to revel in.
Nazi stuff in '90s media was unfortunately common; an easy fallback if you wanted
villains with outrageous schemes and visual presence, but a quick shorthand to
explain you shouldn't like these guys. They're Nazis! What other
real-world dictatorship had such buffoonish characters at the helm with no
shortage of impractical endeavours ripe for spinning into stories? ... don't
answer that.
Half the fun of a good adventure story is the madcap villains the heroes are up
against, and fare like Indiana Jones set the precedent of: when in doubt,
call in the Nazis. No backstory required, the bare minimum of setup necessary; they're
Nazis! They're fucked up and nobody likes them! As ridiculous and
over-the-top as these gals may be, it's a reminder you shouldn't get too
attached. They'll get their just deserts next ish, and it's a hoot.