You may have thought I was cracking wise yesterday when I mentioned Captain America getting attacked by a Volkswagen Beetle in his apartment.
I was not. It unfolded across the opening four pages of Captain America #222 (July 1978).
Yes, ailment the embodiment of the American dream had the sanctity of his home violated by a fuel-efficient import which seemed to appear out of nowhere. Talk about channeling the collective unconscious of an era.
I can generally process pseudo-scientific hogwash about transistorized power armor and spider-sense and Asgardian gods without my suspension of disbelief suffering as much as a wrinkle. Send a compact car to chase a guy around a tiny apartment and my “oh for fuck’s sake” reflex triggers right quick, though.
It’s a shame Steve Gerber didn’t do more with the concept, given the histories of Captain America and the WV Beetle. That was some Grade-A retcon material just waiting to picked up and served shit-steaming hot to a bewildered audience…
BEHOLD, THE SIXTH SLEEPER!