Have you ever gotten obsessed with a background character? From the second I saw a punk rock human/fly hybrid in Minor Threats #1, I immediately became possessive of this little dude. In a world of supervillains that no one took seriously, this guy had to be at the very bottom, and that made him very relatable on a spiritual level. He was tragic, pathetic, and disgusting– he looked the way that I often felt. He was mine.
Scott Hepburn’s sketches included at the back of the second issue shed a bit more light on who this character was: Shiteater, a human/fly henchman whose wings were ripped off by the Searcher. With this singular piece of lore, I became Shiteater’s biggest fan, obsessively pondering the details of his origins. In our Minor Threats interview with Patton Oswalt, Jordan Blum, and Hepburn, I kept bringing up Shit Eater and jokingly said I’d written a twenty-five page pitch about his secret origins. This was all in good fun, but I had no idea that a spin-off miniseries about the anthropomorphic insect was already in the works from Oswalt and Blum, along with writer Kyle Starks and artist Ryan Browne (and Nate Piekos, returning letterer of Minor Threats).
Barfly is every bit as weird, funny, and sad as I’ve been imagining this story would be for months now. It presents Shiteater as a cannon fodder science project created by a supervillain called the Entomologist. This fly guy’s sole purpose was to die in someone else’s fight, yet he’s one of only two hench-bugs to survive the job that landed the Entomologist in prison. Now, Shiteater drinks at a bar where the bigger supervillains bully him, does jobs for crooks who screw him out of his cut, and flips patties at the Bite Burger, where his asshole manager takes his self-esteem to new lows.
Of course, the hardships that Shiteater endures aren’t what make him such a loveable underdog. No, that’s all thanks to the way that he takes them. Even with limited means of expression (more on that later), Shiteater always comes across as someone who tries his best in the face of adversity, quietly taking pride in his ability to do whatever a fly does (except, y’know, fly). His determination makes him as adorable as he is revolting, and he’s very revolting.
We also see Shiteater’s love of punk rock begin to bloom, and as someone who’s also found solace from a soul-crushing job in the genre, I’ve gotta say that Shiteater perfectly embodies the spirit of punk. Despite the rage and noise of punk, ultimately it’s about self-love. It’s about rising above the approval of others and doing whatever makes you happy, no matter how radical it seems. Who cares if people think your hair’s too weird or your clothes are fucked-up? Who gives a shit if you have a proboscis and bigass compound eyes? Nothing is more liberating than loving who you are.
Browne’s artstyle really meshes well with Hepburn’s depiction of these characters and this world, but it also does its own thing. The imagery is gross in the most satisfying way, with dark, heavy lines that give everything this greasy, grimy Eastman and Laird Ninja Turtles feel. Every visual is cartoonishly exaggerated for maximum comedic effect, from Shiteater’s manager growing as his anger increases to multiple big panels having a spherical stretch to them, like you’re looking at them with the bulging eyes of a fish, or more appropriately, a fly. Also, nearly every panel is packed with written gags, with my favorites being the unhinged Bite Burger menu that has options like “fried soda” and “one long fry”.
Something pretty unique about Shit Eater is that he can’t talk– at least, he can’t talk to humans. We only see him communicate in full sentences with his fellow insects, but around regular people he silently expresses himself with zany gestures and playful captions. I don’t know if the captions are done by Browne as the artist of Piekos as the letterer, but they give this comic so much character and help it stand out from the mainline Minor Threats title.
Barfly is one of those rare spinoffs that can go toe-to-toe with the original. You’ll absolutely fall for its disgusting little freak of a protagonist and his defiant optimism.
