Retro Comic Read Through: Team America #6

Team America #6
Cover date November 1982

Continuing the solo stories, this issue gives star spotlight to maybe the weakest character of the team, R.U. Reddy. The knock off Human Torch hothead. Kupperberg continues on the art chores in this issue called 'Dead Water'. The cover continues the same motif of so many previous issues – cycle riding below the spectral head of the issues star. And frankly it's getting a bit dull.

Opening the story we find the Team America performing an exhibition event in Louisiana. A show race. We're told that even though the plan was for all Team America riders to cross the line together, Reddy has such a burning need to win that he breaks from the pack to finish first. Honcho whines a lot about how they were all meant to finish at the same time. Which probably has a gay innuendo in it somewhere, but I don't want to look like I'm picking on Honcho. Especially when there's so much of Reddy in this issue to make fun of.

Kupperberg has an odd idea about the finishing line at motorcycle races, as he stretches a ribbon across the track for Reddy to risk cutting his head off with. So he's either never seen a motorcycle race or he likes Reddy as much as I do. In this instance the ribbon breaks dramatically... but, gee, they may want to replace that with a checkered flag or something. So Reddy wins the trophy – this exhibition event has a trophy.

We also get another factoid about the Unlimited Class Racing rules: 'The rules are few and the stakes are high'. Mantlo's avoidance of using an exclamation mark at the end of that sentence demonstrates amazing reserve!

After the race Reddy heads off solo to his own story on the pretext of visiting an old girlfriend. This time Mantlo has his character, (and by this stage they're definitely becoming his), walk through an old EC horror piece of nature fighting back against man's science. The story and dialogue are so slight in this issue there's hardly anything to recount here, however.

Reddy goes to look for his old girlfriend, Evelyn. But she's become a microbiologist and has gone to investigate a chemical spill by the Sweetwater Chemical Company, situated in the deepest darkest Bayou. Which, according to Kupperberg, is three guys sitting around an old petrol pump getting drunk. But after Reddy asks them a few questions they shake off their shiftlessness to get into a pick-up truck, beer cans still in hand, and try and shoot Reddy with a shotgun. I'm not too familiar with all the red-neck clichés in existence, but I don't think they've missed too many here.

Because Reddy is such a spectacular rider, (and it doesn't hurt that this is his book), he manages to run the red-necks off the road into the river. Aptly named Bayou Le Mort. The slimy green river, replete with comical floating oil drums, immediately rises up and eats the entire truck, including it's beer swilling occupants.

Reddy finally finds Evelyn at an abandoned motel. And hero that he is, quickly gets her dog eaten by the river. Which then chases them to the factory complex of Sweetwater Chemical Company. Where they find a conspiracy between the fatman from the Maltese Falcon, Mr Gutman and a terrorist cartel consisting of middle-eastern types, black power kaftan wearers, a barefoot kung-fu street fighter, Mafioso and apparently the leather-man from the Village People. I suppose these stereotypes, while not making much sense being together, can be viewed as the fears of either the writer or the artist, or possibly both.

The terrorists want to buy Gutman's slime monster to, well, terrorise people I suppose. Evelyn is soon captured and Reddy rescues her only to crash and knock both of them out. The lesson to be taken from that accident is that if your bike goes into a slide, don't throw yourself wildly into a passing wall thinking it will minimize the impact of your crash.

The Marauder takes advantage of Reddy being out of action (and when you think about it, Team America members receive a lot of head injuries. That's gotta have some long lasting effects). The mysterious Marauder beats the terrorists up (in a panel that the sloppy art depicts him as approximately nine feet tall) and re-directs the slime monster to eat the factory, before disappearing. Only Gutman survives and runs out begging the now conscious Reddy and Evelyn to take him on their bike, when, “I... I tripped over the control cables!!!” he yells as he falls into his own slime monster. That's classic irony, right there.

To destroy the slime monster, because you just can't let a living river of slime retire in peace, Reddy drives a oil tanker into it and sets it alight. Which only confuses the environmental message of the story - dumping mysterious chemicals into rivers = bad, dumping petroleum into rivers = good. Then Reddy gives the tanker driver his winners check from the race earlier to pay for the truck. Which goes to show some sort of character arc for Reddy. He use to be casual and extravagant with his fathers money and now he's extravagant with his own. Sure, not much of a character arc. But then again, R.U. Reddy isn't much of a character.

The letter page shows yet another reader positive that the Marauder is some subconscious manifestation of the Team America members. Another reader thinks he's an android. While Al Mejia of Slidell, LA, lies through his retarded, sycophantic teeth and says that he loves the artwork.

Having run out of team members to give pin-up pages to, this issue gives us two pages of 'Honcho's Racing Hints'. An illustrated guide to the top techniques of international professional racers. Along the way he gives us more perspective on Unlimited Class Racing: 'Unlimited Class Racing is the hairiest no-holds barred competition in motor sports! But in any race the bottom line is the same – to win!' Thanks for clearing that confusion up, Honcho!

He then goes on to talk about how good Wolf is at “running right up the middle” of the track to win. And keeps using Reddy as an example of poor racing tactics. An odd editorial choice to make considering the star of this particular issue. But Honcho also comes across as, well, a bit on the bitchy side. He goes on to talk about how to make dirt bike jumps using Cowboy as the example.

These little lessons are strangely interesting, but ultimately silly when you make a supposition of how many Team America readers were likely also to be motorbike owners. However they do add a very odd touch of, and I hesitate to write this, authenticity. At least for younger readers. And that's not such a poor thing. It also reminds the readers of the original concept of this series, motorbike racing, which it seems to have long abandoned. Which is unfortunate as the adventures of the racers travelling an international race circuit could have been fun.

THANKS, HONCHO!