Whelp, this is it. The strangely anticipated final chapter of the Johnny Turbo saga. Woo hoo hoo. Let's dive right in, eh?
Awright, so. What we have here is Johnny Turbo's take on the stereotypical sci-fi novel cover. You know the one. Hero prominently striking an epic pose. Cheering, hopeful masses rallying behind him. An evil force or enemy looming in the distance. And the most important part - a sexy, scantily-clad damsel at the hero's feet, most often clutching his leg. Yeah, you've seen this picture countless times.
And the Turbofied take on the image retains every element you'd normally expect to see. Johnny Turbo himself is...well, I guess that could be called an epic pose. It looks more like a "The holy power of CD-ROM will protect me, so please kick me in the balls!" kinda pose to me, but I guess that's close enough. The cheering masses in this case take the form of two children, one of them doing his best to imitate his hero Johnny's pose (the poor misguided little bastard), and the other - an unfortunately malformed, pigfaced boy of indeterminate ethnic origin - holding up a pasted-in TTI logo.
The face of corporate sleaze is never pretty, of course, but in this case, it looks like it absorbed a few hundred additional thwacks from the ugly stick.
Moving on, you'll easily make note of what represents the "looming evil" requirement - there's an outline of a Feka goon taking up most of the panel's background. Which is cool and all, but I'm going to give you some bad news right now: this is the only semblance of Feka that you're going to see in this comic. I know, it sucks. But hopefully, you will find as I have that the story's strong narrative and character development will enable it to stand on its own, without the aid of that which is not even human.
Lastly, we come to the sexy damsel requirement. And as you can plainly see, the lustful figure leaning on our hero's leg in this picture is...well, yeah. Ahem.
...and you know, I was thinking of making fun of this comic's artist for a second here, but then I realized that I should be pitying whoever drew this, not tearing him apart. He is obviously suffering greatly from his case of Rob Liefeld's Disease, and we should do all we can to make him comfortable before he succumbs to complete submediocrity. The fact is, Rob Liefeld's Disease is a more widespread illness than you might think. Symptoms include skewed perspectives, an overabundance of toothy grins, and a complete and utter lack of feet in the victim's creations. As the disease worsens, the artist will resort to increasingly ridiculous ways to conceal the fact that he is totally unable to draw feet. Random mounds of dirt and small mesas will soon begin to mysteriously appear in strategic positions, and before you know it, the artist will soon be doomed to obscurity.
Take the cover above, for instance. Look at JT's left foot. What the fuck is that? A stout pegleg? I mean, is that supposed to be a foot, or did the artist just recolor part of that rock formation? And those poor kids! Their feet have been cruelly taken away from them, thanks to a tragic accident involving questionable perspective and suspiciously uneven terrain (speaking of which, what is everyone standing on in this picture? A meteor hurtling through space?). And Tony! I'm so, so sorry, Tony. I'm sure your left leg was important to you, but the artist apparently didn't think it was necessary. How unfortunate.
The real question remains, though. Who the hell is NEAL? This page marks the first and only time the artist gives any indication of his identity, and I'm now genuinely curious as to who he is. Like, does he currently work in the comics industry? Or was he shunned by his peers following his involvement with the Johnny Turbo saga? Seeing as how no one who had anything to do with this horrible mess would likely want to talk about it today, the world may never know what became of NEAL. Hope you're doing all right, buddy.