Dear Mr. Methven:

We are always excited to discover new superheroes here at Marvel Comics. That is why we may have reacted hastily in offering you a comic-book deal after seeing only a few of the stunning illustrations of your Captain Crochet series. Sadly, after reviewing your full manuscript, the legal—not to mention ethical—ramifications of making good on our publishing contract are such that we are terminating the project immediately.

The main issue is Captain Crochet’s superpower. You bill Captain Crochet as a crime-fighting superhero, suitable for young adults. However, we find him nothing more than a deviant misanthrope who uses his seamstress skills to senselessly crochet shut the anuses of his criminal mastermind nemeses while they sleep. Which begs the question—are you 8 years old? Or maybe you’re the Marquis de Sade of comic-book superheroes. The point is, we don’t know. And we don’t want to know.

Again, we cannot emphasize enough that the initial drawings were so visually stimulating in their action-adventure sequences that we leapt at the project. Had any of those pictures given a hint that Captain Crochet’s only superpower was to crochet shut the digestive tracts of villains, whose body cavities eventually fill with their own foulness and explode, rendering the city crime-free, we certainly would have washed our hands of it. We’ve been debating it all week—we’re not even sure the premise is biologically accurate.

Beyond that:

  • Anus-crocheting is not a superpower around which we can base a marketable superhero. Invisibility, pyrokinesis, shape-shifting, superhuman durability—these are superpowers readers can sink their teeth into. Captain Crochet’s superpower becomes redundant, since you use it to conclude each of the 437 disputes with villains in series 1. Even the Spider-Man creators build conflict between bouts of web-tossing. But it seems that in every fourth or fifth frame of your series some unfortunate psychotic fiend is having his anus crocheted shut.
  • Seriously, where did you learn to draw like that?
  • Captain Crochet is a coward. Superheroes are meant to fight for justice, but he never encounters any villains with whom he must battle to the death. His entire repertoire consists of crouching in closets, waiting for bad guys to fall asleep so he can sneak into their rooms and crochet. And then, in every case, you spend 40 to 50 frames (with breathtaking illustrations, mind you) detailing how the villain explodes.
  • On page 54, long after the crochet ambushes have grown tired and predictable, you introduce Thimbleman, Captain Crochet’s ghoulish little sidekick. One “crime fighter” creeping around dark chambers crocheting anuses shut while passing it off as justice is bad enough; two of them is simply appalling. What in the hell is wrong with you?
  • Toward the end of series 1, you mention a new villain, Leadbottom, presumably the nemesis of series 2. Unlike Superman or the Incredible Hulk, Captain Crochet has only one go-to move—how can he possibly compete with a villain of Leadbottom’s caliber?

We were genuinely insulted by your views of what makes a superhero a superhero and suggest you reread The Amazing Spider-Man to reacquaint yourself with a more chivalrous kind of crime fighter. Keep in mind that this is a subjective business. So even though we despise Captain Crochet, another publishing house might feel differently.

Regards,
Marvel Comics staff

P.S. During the editorial meeting that preceded the writing of this letter, many of us reminisced about how our grandmothers crocheted when we were children. Captain Crochet, with his doily-patterned cape and yarn-and-elastic costume, has forever tarnished those memories for us.