STRANGE TALES #104: From the Fantastic to the Preposterous

Published: January, 1963

I wasn’t going to review any more Human Torch stories, because in general they’re not my favorites. But then it was brought to my attention that Paste-Pot Pete makes his first appearance in Strange Tales #104, so I decided to make an exception. Some Marvel villains are deliciously complicated and evil, a true menace to civilization. And some Marvel villains…are not. But then there’s this third class of villains, those that make you snicker every time you simply think about them, or say their name.

Paste-Pot Pete fits into this group. In fact, to this point, he is the president and charter member of the Marvel’s Most Ridiculous Villains Club. For me, the name “Paste-Pot Pete” has become synonymous with the concept of “Ridiculous Villain.”

Okay, let’s review.

Behold….Paste-Pot Pete! First, let’s consider his appearance: Droopy purple beret. Large Eton collar secured by an enormous bow. Khaki fatigue-inspired jumpsuit gathered at the ankles. Sturdy purple gloves. If the army employed clowns, they would probably look like Paste-Pot Pete.

Now, his weapon: Carries a large bucket of dripping paste, connected by a tube to a makeshift gun. Fond of shouting proclamations like “Crude crooks shoot lead! But I shoot paste!” and “PASTE is the supreme weapon!”

Let’s think about this for a moment. Paste is the supreme weapon.

Is it really? In what universe? I mean, even within the pages of this story, ol’ Pete has to admit that the effects of his paste only last about an hour. He doesn’t kill or injure anyone with his “supreme weapon,” he just slows them down long enough to do his dastardly deeds.

And what are those dastardly deeds? What motivates this criminal mastermind? Does he seek world domination? Does he desire that all the kings and monarchs bow down and worship him? No. He robs banks. Oh yeah, and, in his estimation, he’s about to pull off “the boldest crime of the century” by stealing an American missile, then selling it to the Commies. Or, wait! Pete has a better idea: Maybe he’ll sell it back to the Americans. If they’ll give him more money. MWAHAHAHA!

This guy thinks quite a bit of himself, doesn’t he? Well of course, there’s no scoundrel worthy of the title “villain” that isn’t brimming over with bravado. I mean, we’re never going to find a villain named “Dr. Vague” or “The Amazing Maybe Man!” But political disloyalties aside, is this the best Pete can do? Self-serving, egotistical purveyor of paste?

THE SUPREME WEAPON!
But as much as I’m coming down on Paste-Pot Pete, I do have to give him credit for one thing. When I first read this story months ago, I snickered. Re-reading it today, I’m still snickering, but I have to admit that Pete is not a complete clown. As silly as it is, his paste gets the job done. He only needs to immobilize inconvenient busybodies for a short time while he carries out his schemes, and the paste always works. Is this perhaps the 1960’s answer to the stun-gun? I guess it’s nice of Pete to not actually kill anyone. But being “nice” isn’t what makes a great villain.

And I’ve got one more problem with the paste. How much of this stuff can he actually carry around in that pot? Does the paste possess magical qualities wherein it can reproduce itself? No? Then how do you explain the unending supply from a pot no bigger than a pail you would use to mop the kitchen floor? In addition to all the people Pete has pasted, he’s also gluing himself to missiles and airplanes, yet he never seems to run out!

I don’t think there can really be any logical answer to these questions, so let’s move on to another of my concerns, which might not seem quite so incomprehensible.

CLOWN SUIT
Okay. What is it with that outfit, anyway? Why does he dress like that? Why couldn’t he dress like a normal person, maybe like a construction worker, so that when he’s seen walking around with the glue and the gun, he won’t stick out in a crowd? Wouldn’t it be to his advantage to blend into the crowd? The way he looks now, narrators are apt to describe him as a “flamboyant figure.” He appears on the scene and people exclaim “Hey! Get a load of the refugee from a masquerade ball.” Does that really work in his favor?

Well, maybe I’m not being fair to Pete. If I’m going to talk about crazy outfits, Paste-Pot Pete is actually not the best example of flamboyance. However, thinking back over all the villains and heroes I’ve met, Pete’s costume is absolutely the most unnecessary and inexplicable. Dr. Doom wears the mask because his face is disfigured. Loki and Thor appear in tights and capes because they’re from another realm and don’t know any better. Spidey’s mask hides his true identity, while his red and blue leotard clearly identifies his superhero persona. More importantly, his costume gives him the ability to move about freely. As for Hulk…well, he can’t help how he looks.

Paste Pot Pete could look different if he wanted to, but he chooses not to. I don’t understand why he thinks a fatigue-themed jumpsuit and giant bow make him appear menacing. Is he employing the green and purple color combo in hopes that his victims will become confused into thinking he’s the Incredible Hulk?

But wait. Something just occurred to me. Maybe Pete knows that when people catch their first glimpse of him, they will be so astonished by his unusual appearance, they will be momentarily immobilized even before he covers them in paste. Perhaps this gives him a strategic advantage. In this story he meets up with a bank security guard, a squad car full of cops, and two military policemen, and even though they are all trained professionals carrying weapons, nobody comes close to ever getting off a single shot against him.

Okay. So maybe the outfit makes sense. I’m willing to give him points for the costume, since it seems to work to his advantage.

BACKSTORY?
Having said that, I’m going to take this discussion one step further. Maybe Pete is not as ridiculous as he first seems. Before we completely dismiss the clown with the glue gun, let’s consider one more issue that could lend further credibility to our silly villain, perhaps even infusing him with some small speck of rascally respectability.

In this adventure, we see what Pete does and how he operates, but we don’t really know why. Sure, he seeks monetary gain from robbing banks and selling military secrets to the highest bidder, but again I ask….why? What has happened to him in his past to make him so self-centered, self-serving and materialistic?

I sense an underlying anger. Perhaps he was wronged by someone in authority? Perhaps the other boys in school laughed at him when he brought his wonderful “super-paste” invention to the Science Fair? I sense an “I’ll show them! I’ll show them all!” attitude beneath his jesterly surface.

Also, I don’t believe the paste he’s using can be normal paste. Therefore, I suspect that Pete may be a scientist, prone to think outside the box. That might explain his unconventional appearance and choice of weapon. You’ve got to admit he’s a unique individual.

Torch fights PPP without calling in any help from the other members of the FF. Either Torch is getting better at handling these crises on his own, or Pete is not actually that menacing. Of course, Pete eventually gets away from Torch and the authorities. You’ve got to give him that—not all villains are lucky enough to escape our superheroes.

And with his escape, Paste-Pot Pete lives to refill his paste pot and return to fight another day.

I’ll have Russ alert me when Pete makes another appearance in the Marvel Universe. As silly as he seems, I sense there’s much room for growth and improvement. And so, I will eagerly look forward to following his career.

With snickers.

Next time: Reed waxes eloquent about Abraham Lincoln’s mother, Thing gets a special delivery from a secret admirer, and a visitor from another planet throws a temper tantrum—all this and more for only 12 cents! Impossible, you say? Hey, man, not as Impossible as it sounds.