Shmobots

June 30, 2008
This hilarious graphic novel shows a futuristic society where robots were created to do the dirty work, only they were built by the lowest bidder, creating a race of metallic slackers—the shmobots. Rusty, Eyeballs, 69.5 and their human friend Miles sit around, drink beer, attempt to have a band and get cut-rate lap dances. Meanwhile, a shmobot serial killer is on the loose. The art (like the cars) has a '70s feel of hotel sleaze and cop drama. In one scene, the three mechanical characters remove their sexual “organs,” and we find that 69.5's has to be screwed on. Later, their robot dog, Clinky, tries to hump a jukebox. The humor is prurient, the subject matter is adult, but what makes it nifty is the whacked-out camaraderie of the four sentient, male beings. A killer's on the loose, but they're more concerned with TV. “Corroded bee-otch!!” Rusty yells at a robot prostitute who spurns them. It's total I-don't-care culture, and Miles, as the one who is supposed to grow up, can't. Meanwhile, Rusty, in his halfhearted attempts to keep the group together, does mature (a bit). Sometimes the parodies edge on stereotypes about minorities, but the plot whips along and delivers some dastardly fun.