Ever since the first man was whittled out of acorns and brought to life in the firey heart of Mount Olympian, the devoted and the faithful have sought to convert others to their particular belief system. Sometimes this takes the form of bloody sectarian warfare. Maybe it's a street preacher hollering at hungover college students. Occasionally this is expressed by costumed weightlifters performing strongman stunts to middle-school students, and accompanying their exhibition with the finest distillation of theology, the comic book. So if you'll open your prayer books to John Jacobs And The Power Team #5, we'll begin! Please rise.


If you need a runaway rescued in Hollywood, there's only one team to call, and that's the Power Team! Yes, they were a real team of beefy strongmen doing evangelical strongmen stunts in the hopes that bending metal bars and smashing blocks of ice would lead children away from sin. And if that didn't work, they'd just start driving their van up and down stairs, honking wildly, frightening ethnic stereotypes.


Every year thousands of star-struck teens and adults come to Hollywood & Vine looking for the glamourous, magical world they've seen on TV and in the movies. And every year after about fifteen minutes, thousands of formerly star-struck teens and adults say "Wow, this is seedy and depressing, let's go to Silver Lake and get coffee."


To quote The Left Banke, just walk away, Renee! Otherwise you'll find yourself locked into the most degrading occupation ever forced upon helpless teenagers, which I'm pretty sure is selling magazine subscriptions door to door.


Meanwhile in a church dinner hall an hour away - only about ten miles, but that LA traffic is murder! - the Power Team refuels their massive muscles and sheds a tear for Renee, as seen on the "missing children" notice they used to print on milk cartons. These days this would be an Amber Alert that would appear magically on your phone, usually at 4am.


The National Child Safety Council does all the work, but God gets all the credit? I don't see God in there working those hotline phones.


Dear Heavenly Father, bless our advertising manager, the design bureau, and the good folks at Outdoor Advertising Incorporated and their conveniently placed and inexpensively priced billboards.


Three people can't have a harmless conversation on a sidewalk without the LAPD rolling up on them? Well, this is the LAPD, so... no. They can't.


Explain to me exactly what Renee did that warrants a jail cell. Loitering? Loitering, I guess. Loitering with intent to flashback.


The INDIGNITY of having to WASH DISHES and CLEAN BATHROOMS! I bet Renee wishes she was back home, doing household chores like, uh, washing dishes and cleaning bathrooms. And sure, getting assaulted by your boyfriend is terrible, but at least you're spared having to listen to any more of his "Acid Metal."


Meanwile the Power Team is so distraught by the idea of a runaway teen that they can barely get through a double arm platform ice break, which is either a fancy Starbucks drink or a very delicate osteopathic procedure.


The following morning these thick-necked muscle-goons inhale enough food to feed hungry children from Thousand Oaks to San Clemente while the LAPD just kicks a sex-trafficked minor out onto the street without so much as a phone call to her parents. Some fine police work there, team.


And just as Renee is about to be re-captured by her wanna-be pimp and his gang of assistant pimps, who should roll by in their Power Wheels but the Power Team?


Just go ahead and run over the ponytail guy. This is 90s Los Angeles, there are thousands more where he came from!


Here's a closeup of that informational text. So far I don't believe this comic book has achieved any of these three goals.


Sure, they have metal pipes and baseball bats, but the Power Team has gigantic muscles, and probably some bloating from their giant breakfast.


It was really convenient for the thugs to bring along just the right props for the Power Team to use to demonstrate their power! Committing crimes in front of the police station was also really thoughtful. Thanks, thugs.


Well, here's another chance for the Los Angeles Police Department to actually do their job and... repair the Power Team's tires! Oh, and maybe protect this runaway minor from being pimped out, that would be nice. I mean, Renee is a minor, the police are legally obligated to keep her in custody until a parent or legal guardian shows up.


Or the LAPD could just release Renee into the custody of a traveling group of power-lifting stunt performer evangelists, part of the department's stated policy of "making it somebody else's problem." And this is a real problem, because apparently 14 year old runaways are worth fifty thousand dollars on the open market! Wow! So long, I'm off to kidnap some runaways!


In case readers weren't quite convinced of the Power Team's ability to eat all the food available in their immediate vicinity, here's another panel of the Power Team eating all the food available in their immediate vicinity. I think it was Jesus who said "bring me your chickens, your corn, your potatoes, yea, so that I may carbo-load and bulk out, to henceforth crush the skulls of my opponents in the ring, oh yeah."


It's just a miracle how the Power Team found that one single solitary runaway teen in Hollywood.


"He wanted me to co-sign on a variable rate mortgage and get his and hers jet-skis, but I said I wasn't raised that way and we should get married first!"

But while Renee pours out her heart, let's check in with the onstage excitement that only the real life POWER TEAM can deliver!


That kid on the left in what I believe is a bootleg Bart Simpson T-shirt, that kid is the living embodiment of the 1990s. Wherever you are now, kid, we salute you.


Our chunky, sweaty heroes turn the spotlight over to Commander John Jacobs, USPT, as he delivers a stirring sermon to all the winners out there, and if you aren't winning, then well, you're just defying God's plan, now aren't you?


Meanwhile, Dominique the Pimp and his Pimp Commandos easily gain entrance to the arena, mostly because the security guard is too busy remarking on how calm and unenthusiastic the crowd is tonight.


And with a terrific struggle, this gang of six grown adults somehow manages to subdue a fourteen year old girl. Don't strain yourself, guys.


What's that? Interrupt a stage performance because someone's being kidnapped? No way, says Officer Lena. She simply has too much respect for these hard working performers.


Radio for backup? Holler "Hey Rube?" Fire a few warning shots? Run twenty feet and get some help? Nope, just hurl your badge across the stage. It's really the best option.


The LAPD spent the 90s literally shooting hundreds of people a year, but in a welcome break from department standards, Officer Lena needs to see at least three felonies before she draws her weapon on a perp.


Mere firearms are no match for the sinewy thews and meaty paws of the Power Team!


This took a sharp turn into "Road House" territory and I am HERE FOR IT


"Don't sweat these runaway girls, they're a dime a dozen, except for this one, who is worth fifty thousand dollars, for some reason."


We've skipped the three pages where Ruthanne told Renee the parable of the Prodigal Son, and the obligatory tearful let Jesus into your heart prayer, and we're just going to cut right to the part where Renee finally feels at peace and everything is OK and she's going to call her mom and go home and nothing can go wrong now.


No! The pimp is back and he's got a huge menacing assistant who doesn't care one bit about who's credit card is going to get charged for this kicked-in hotel room door!


Make sure to kidnap your victims in the most ostentatious car possible, that's the key to good teenager kidnapping. And yes the Power Team DOES have a CB radio! You can't minister to truckers without one.


They're headed for Galaxy Studios! This is how film studios gets all their new stars, they just kidnap them out of hotel rooms. Joan Crawford, Shelley Winters, Faye Dunaway, Glenn Close, Susan Sarandon, Sharon Stone, all kidnapped as teenagers by pimps in limos.


And so the three way chase begins, as though scripted, choreographed and directed by... a crew of semi-skilled comic book freelancers under the direction of a weight-lifting preacher.


Here on the backlot of Galaxy Studios, it looks like giant servings of Jiffy-Pop - you know, you put the pan on the stove and heat it up and the foil expands while the popcorn pops? That's what those tumbleweeds look like, they look like Jiffy-Pop popcorn. It's still around! Buy some today. Anyway, this exciting adventure will continue in the next issue of The Action Adventures Of John Jacobs And The Power Team! Except there aren't any more issues of The Action Adventures Of John Jacobs And The Power Team, this is it. What was ahead for this mighty crew of mighty men and mighty deeds? Well, for John Jacobs, there was an assault charge and a divorce. Half the Power Team quit and started a different power-lifting-for-Jesus ministry, and apparently now there is a New Power Team out there as well, thrilling pre-teens with feats of strength and vaguely scriptural lectures. But if all this double-arm platform ice breaking saves one 14 year old from running away to Hollywood, it'll be worth it.



Become a Patron! Hey gang, thanks for reading Mister Kitty's Stupid Comics! If you enjoyed it and want to show your appreciation, you can now become a patron by hitting that Patreon button above! Or, you can turn off your ad blocker so's our advertisers know you're out there! And remember to visit our YouTube channel, our Facebook group and our Instagram? Why don't you.

PREVIOUS STUPID COMICS

NEXT STUPID COMICS

BACK TO STUPID COMICS INDEX



BACK TO MAIN INDEX