Sucking for Jesus?

Sasha Selavie on the superqueero the world needs…


Meet Devlin Waugh, Gay Vampire Priest!


What gets you horny as f*ck? Well, in an ideal world, surely the promise of raw, unrestrained orgasms, spiced with a delicious twist of raging blasphemy, must come high on the list? So, just imagine this scene; you’re naked, hot to trot with a bulging boner in a sauna, when suddenly, a stacked giant – Jason Statham on steroids – waves his irresistible, python penis at your lips. Intrigued? You should be – meet Devlin Waugh, gay vampire priest, and reigning Queen of queer superheroes! A bespoke, Vatican assassin and ruthless aesthete, he’s an awesome, 6’ 9’’ Tyson Fury clone reconfigured as an Oscar Wilde-spouting death machine!
   It’s about time. Since the blatant, ménage a trois joke of Batman, Robin and butler Alfred, gay superheroes – and supervillains – have been as anaemic as fresh veal bled completely white! And that’s despite acclaimed comics author Grant Morrison once proposing a sadly censored, transvestite Joker in Madonna basque and heels, which left only limp stereotypes visible as gay superqueeros!  
   But, how uninformed can a critic be? Recently, a flamingly pansexual acquaintance turned me on to the adventures of Devlin Waugh from the UK’s Judge Dredd Megazine, reprinted in 2015.  Instantly, I was awestruck – Devlin’s gay, fey and an inexhaustible lay, and his only known weakness is boys, the buffer the better!  A  22nd Century Vatican Exorcist, Devlin runs loose like a juicy, barely-frocked cannon in the post-apocalyptic world of Judge Dredd. His mission? To search out and destroy spiritual, physical and psychotic abominations, or indeed any dizzy disco-tart who’s committed the cardinal sin of indulging in bad taste. Which is something Devlin himself would never dream of – he breaks out in tears over his lost Aubrey Beardsley watercolours, or poorly decanted, non-mind-altering tea!
But, don’t start thinking he’s an effete, precious wuss in frilly pink panties. Despite a name that’s a blatant pun on Brideshead Revisited author Evelyn Waugh, our Devlin doesn’t share Evelyn’s bulging gut, pig-eyed face, lassitude or pomposity. He is, in fact, one mean, moustached motherfucker of a manic, muscle mary, all hyper-steroidal pecs and a hair-trigger allergy to mediocrity. Put bluntly, he’s one damn cute brute, a Noel Coward panache poured into a bulging, oiled Turkish wrestler’s packet. Frankly, the mind boggles imagining the pumping, erotic origami Devlin might perform on eagerly compliant penises! So, what more could the geeky, deeply closeted fans of the early 1990s Judge Dredd Megazine have possibly wanted? Far less perversion, unfortunately – Devlin got right up their intolerant, heterosexual noses, and earned himself a quick deletion from the world of acned, adolescent anoraks. Thankfully, some lovers of truly transgessive comics have sumptuously reissued these gems. The brain-child of gay comic-script writer John Smith, who’d obliquely touched on his sexuality in the New Statesmen strip for Crisis comic and mentioned ‘transvestite brothels’ in 2000AD, Devlin is Smith’s gloriously unrepentant, inner deviant let swaggering out of the closet. Oh, not completely, mind; no full-on fisting (except boxing) is featured. But perversity, like the Devil, always finds a path to the susceptible heart, and Smith makes the first story – vampires running loose in the undersea prison, Aquatraz – a feast of up-your-butt innuendo, like a darkly suave Julian Clary delivering dryly homicidal, James Bond one-liners.
   Well, hello –Devlin’s stage wasn’t so much set as bleeding like a stuck pig, with his sexuality irresistibly augmented by highly contagious vampirism. But how did Devlin satisfy his desires? With delicious, fang-toothed fellatio? Who knows, but writer Smith wisely leaves the depravity unspecific, and therefore far more potent. And there’s super-chic bad taste in the closing strip, where Devlin’s companion has regressed to a baby (don’t ask) and happens to be the only snack available for our starving blood-sucker! You want blandness? Then stick to Mary Poppins, but queens of wealth and haste should strip these books off the shelves while they can! Comics this droll and debauched sell themselves faster than a ripped rent boy on overtime!

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