So it's kind of hard to party when, aside from the initial shock, the first story is pretty run of the mill. So there's rectum-craving tentacles and Yuri being typically sexy, and I'm not seeing any bodacious eighties action anywhere. Maybe the moon language she's torturedly screaming is some kind of easily marketable catch phrase like "Whatchoo talkin' about, Willis?" or "OH FOR ALL THAT IS SWEET AND HOLY NO", but otherwise I don't see the 80'S SPIRITS shooting up my nose here like so much primo Colombia blow.

Like a shitty giant robot tranforming into a shittier yellow compact, the doujinshi gets worse, fast, and without the rad transformation sound effect. I'll be damned if I know what the hell is going on in these panels. The tentacle goes for her ass, and... Jesus. It's just a disgusting mess of blood, tears, piss, tentacle jizz, vaginal juices and shit. Meanwhile, I'm sitting here, expecting to be aroused by the all-eighties action and I'm left in the cold here. What gives?



The question that plagued the eighties: "Who the fuck is going to clean up this shit?"
Then it dawns on me. This is SUBTLE JAPANESE SATIRE. You see, the putrid mixture of bodily fluids is a metaphor for the products of that era, and the bizarre, incomprehensible action symbolizes the uncontrolled ascent to the top, the tentacles representing Japanese society raping Yuri, who is herself representing the working man getting fucked over. This is PUNK ROCK. Yuri, the working man, is fucked over in the most unmentionable of places by the unrelenting tentacles of progress and pop culture. Does she do anything to stop it? Of course not. The prodding and probing tendrils of the media control her; they satiate her. Once again, it is kiilling her... And she loves it. This is some BRUTALLY HONEST COMMENTARY. Oh, and it's also pretty awful, I should mention. Nothing kills a boner faster than some half-baked punk rock manifesto. Remember that girl in high school with the dyed hair and the piercings who was always skipping out of class, and on the rare occasion when she decided that the class should be honoured by her presence, would always contradict the social studies teachers with her well reasearched ideas on how things should be done, basically sourced entirely from one of Jello Biafra's spoken word tirades? And remember how she could basically transmit STDs psychically? Yeah. That's this story.

And like that girl, this story ends on a complete anticlimax. Instead of getting pregnant and ensuring that the school system of the future will have no shortage of dumbfucks, it's just more SUBTLE JAPANESE SATIRE. Kei gazes upon the monstrosity and is paralyzed with shock and disgust. But soon enough, they'll have her too AND THE CYCLE CONTINUES! DEEP! MEANINGFUL! Christ I want this doujinshi to end... But I'm on page 15. Of 88. It can't get any worse, can it?


For full effect, put on the Madonna song of your choice on right here.
Following a few saucy poses by what is presumably the author of this comic tragedy to get us sexxed up for the next story - because, by God, that's is about as sexy as it's going to get - we gingerly move forward into part two, hopefully with more hot hardcore eighties action than the first. SERIOUSLY, what the hell does a guy have to do around here to get some Magnum, p.i. having rugged, manly sex with Kei and Yuri and I'm ABSOLUTELY NOT GAY for wanting to see Tom Selleck in doujinshi,


Goddammit Sir Mix-A-Lot, why did you have to release your magnum opus two years too late? This could have been the easiest caption in history to write.
Alas, instead of manly 'staches, we have the 'Pair with some chunk in their trunk. We can't hate it too much though; how can we, in good conscience, get on the author's ass about this one? For one, if it's good enough for Prince, it's good enough for me. Two, while it's certainly not Tom Selleck, an anthropomorphic catboy is certainly hairy, and therefore eighties enough to be a suitable stand-in.

So we're trading in the dissatisfied housewife sex-appeal of Magnum for pint-sized felines with huge spurting cocks. Eighties spirits? Damn straight. It's Return of the Jedi all over again, and these aspiring doujinshi Lucases have decided that they can have a merchandising spree with this much more, uh, marketable version of the Dirty Pair mythos. Kei and Yuri action figures with kung-fu ghetto booty action! Two of a Perfect Pair brand catboy mayonnaise (Fortified with "essential nutrients")! A straight-to-video movie starring Wilford Brimley as Yuri's vagina! If Star Wars has taught us anything, it's that making things “good” or even “watchable” is secondary to establishing toy lines, and this is a very eighties lesson these doujinshi writers have learned well. Hell, I'm already first in line to preorder the new “Two Of A Perfect Pair Super Chibi Jizzrocket Kart Racing Adventure” video game for the Playstation 2 and Xbox.


You can't catch AIDs from the ass, Honest Honey.
As for the story itself, it, like George Lucas, hates you. In fact, were it up to this story you would be replaced with a computer generated muppet, but since it isn't up to this story, it will just hand pages upon pages of the most embarassing swill man has committed to paper and will tell you to fucking like it or you're fired. Much like the cloying death cry of the crushed Ewok, it excites me; I am an explorer of one of the last frontiers of ecchi: Chubby girls having messy, rough sex with anthromorphs. On the other hand, it's still not very sexy.

To demonstrate, here we see the catboy beginning to blow his impressive load all over the place. Not quite finished yet, he ties off his boner and proceeds to painfully tap Yuri's overfilled trunk. Unsafe? Certainly. Impossible? Of course. Once you've opened the flood gates, there ain't no way you can stop it, and pretty soon everything looks like the set of Bukkake Princess Sachiko. But with the determination of the undead - or perhaps Ronald Reagan - It keeps going, and going until the inevitable. Kei bursts in the room with Mughi, their pet “tentacles when necessary for work or pleasure” cat, to break up this sordid chernobyl of a sex scenario. They do, which throws the catboy off balance, and with the force of an ICBM he winds up ramming Mughi in the ass. I'd be laughing if this doujinshi hadn't ruined my ability to hold an erection for more than thirty seconds, leaving me waiting for the nineties compilation doujinshi featuring a clever viagra-demon with unstoppable cocks to cure me.


And I'll buy that for a dollar!



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