Hey Duck

Dreamed about a comic book last night. A comic book I read cover-to-cover, close to a hundred times, back in 1976 or 1977, when I was in the fourth grade. I can only remember ever reading one other comic, and I remember it torn and shredded in our basement toy chest. But this particular comic belonged to my school, and it fascinated me to no end.

I wish I could remember its name or any of the characters’ names. Well, I do recall a robot named “Duck.” But other than that, nothing. I wish I did, ’cause I’d really love to find it and read it again.

There were three stories, of that I’m certain. The first was hands-down the best. Pure science fiction. It seems that three or four of these astronauts – decked out kind of like the Fantastic Four – were at this station on the surface of a very unstable planet. Quakes, poisonous gas venting, storms, etc. You got the impression the planet was about to disintegrate. So did the men; they desperately wanted to escape but for some reason couldn’t. There were other creatures on the station. There was this brainiac thing, who was at odds with the astronauts, thwarting their attempts to escape. And some evil acid blob monster. At the end, the blob gets loose, kills the brainiac thing, and the astronauts manage to escape with their lives as the planet explodes, killing the monster.

The other stories were half as long, filler I assume. Next we followed the hijinks of an android who became a man. Or at least everyone in the strip thought he was a man. They all thought he was a petty thief named “Duck.” They all also wanted to kill him. I remember a scene involving a drive-by shooting. The gunman shouts “Hey Duck!” and lets loose a barrage of lead. Duck, recognizing the shouted word as a command and not a proper noun, does just that, behind some garbage cans, thus saving his life.

Finally, a short horror tale. Pirates who steal some haunted treasure. After they’ve set sail back out to sea, they find themselves dematerializing into a glowing mist, first their hands, then arms, then bodies, and finally heads. Then, nothing. The only survivor is the horrified captive who did not partake in the stealing. It was quite creepy for a nine year old.

Last night I dreamed about it for the first time. Strange. Not that I was in any of the stories, but that I actually had that comic book. It’s been a year or so since I’ve searched online for any clues as to what it may have been called or when it was published. I think my subconsciousness is prodding me to resume my search …