The Problem with Fred VII

 

Cobra Commander's worldview in the comics was quite muddled, but it could be seen as right-wing extremism. Larry Hama envisioned him as a man who liked to hear the sound of his own voice (a pontificating William F. Buckley Jr. was the voice he had in mind before the hissing-shrill Chris Latta took over the multi-media Cobra Commander forever).

Even before Crimson Guard was produced as a toy, Cobra Commander built Cobra on the back of pyramid schemes. 

The Crimson Guard seemed to draw from Cold War anxieties, particularly the American fear of Soviet infiltration. The idea of an "average" citizen hiding in plain sight mirrored the Red Scare fear that your neighbor, teacher, or accountant might secretly be a communist agent. Additionally, there was a longstanding belief that subversion through institutions remained more powerful than direct conflict with guns and war.  

They were essentially Cobra's perfect Americans. They're clean‑cut, educated, respectable, and embedded everywhere, in suburbs, banks, law firms, real estate offices, and small businesses; the greatest possibility would be political office.

I suppose, for better or for worse, Fred VII became the single most famous member of the Crimson Guard "Fred Series", surgically identical Cobra operatives. 

He was the Fred who impersonated Cobra Commander in the Marvel comic continuity or the Hama-verse ("if you will," as Dusty Rhodes said back in the day).

And as "elite" as Crimson Guardsmen were, they still retained this satirical notion that all Cobra forces were cannon fodder, the idea that the enemy was literally interchangeable/replaceable. And overlapping both Sunbow and Hama-verse Cobra was that conformity, hierarchy, and the loss of individuality were the Cobra way.

Evil Developments! A Cobra Resurgence!

The Cobra Arena of Sport

In a mountainous region somewhere in South America, Cobra had retaken an old temple, and the fortress now flickered back to life with an uneasy shuffle of troops who weren't entirely sure who was in charge anymore.

Raptor certainly thought he was.

The man in the bird suit surveyed the arena below as Ramar stepped into the arena, just as he had so many years ago. Zanzibar lounged nearby, and Leila, ever socially competitive, watched with predatory delight.

Ramar and the Fatal Fluffy wrestled for control of it's laser gun, as it shot into the air, but the monster was too powerful and pushed him away.

"Oh wow," she purred, as the slave surprisingly dodged the first strike, "Finally something impressive around here."

The feathered accountant, annoyed, replied, "He is overmatched and will be dead soon. All muscles, no brains."

Ramar staggered as the monster's whip cracked across his back, each sound different: crack, whack, thwack, snap, and each strike tearing a raw "Agh!" from his throat.

"Leila may be onto something, actually," Zanzibar drawled, "I'll wager a thousand gold serpentine coins that man defeats beast! That is the way of nature."

"Ha!" Raptor snapped, "Against my Fatal Fluffy? Never! You're on! And besides, my monster is currently winning! You're making a poor bet, but I'll take your money all the same."

Below, the monster bellowed the only words it knew: "DIE! DIE! DIE!" It charged again, shrieking the mantra with rising frenzy, and even the villains watching above hated the sound, "DIE! DIE! DIE!" It became rabid, even demonic.

But Ramar rolled, seized an arena spear, and used the creature's own momentum against it. With a roar, he drove the weapon home.

The Fatal Fluffy's final "DIE! DIE! DI...***...**...*...," broke into a wet, unnatural sound, collapsing into a "hrrrkkk‑kkhrrr…" before the beast toppled into the ground, twitching once, then going still.

The arena fell silent.

Ramar straightened, "This... thing... is dead and the world is better for it. However... I see three more monsters above for me to kill as well."

Leila noted with a velvet edge, "Oh, such a shame!"

"A lucky blow!" the bird-man said in a huff.

The elegant Cobra operative observed, twisting the knife, "Honestly, Raptor, you really should train your monsters better. It reflects poorly on all of us."

"Fatal Fluffies are slave drivers. Hardly smart enough in one-on-one battles. It was the only possible outcome," Zanzibar explained, "I trust my winnings will be sent through my usual channels?"

"Bah," Raptor complained, "You'll get your gold, and it's no matter as we have control of these mines again. Plenty more will be mass-produced." 

Leila tried not to laugh, a bit too happy with herself, "Oh, I'm sure you'll find the monster that can defeat Ramar. Perhaps even you should face him. You did say brains triumph over brawn, hmm hmm hmm right right right?"

Raptor sputtered, "I-it... umm... It would be a short fight."

"Oh, that I believe," she agreed, her words soft‑spoken, graceful, and a bit too sweet.

"There will be plenty of time to test the slave champion again," Zanzibar suggested, "More money for me to win. But for now, the others have arrived."

The Lady Jaye Effect (or The Art of the Tease)

The Twenty Questions studio lights dimmed to their softer post‑broadcast glow as the crew began to move around the set. Lady Jaye was preparing to leave.

Some operatives relied on firepower. Others relied on stealth. Lady Jaye? She relied on both, plus a smile that could disarm most men faster than a javelin throw.

Hector Ramirez stepped in closer, offering his hand with that trademark mustached smile of his. Lady Jaye met him halfway, her stance still angled just enough that the curve of her back caught the light as she turned toward him.

"Great segment tonight," Hector said, his voice lower now that the cameras were off. "You always bring a spark to the place. The crew perks up the second they hear you're coming in."

Lady Jaye let out a warm, amused laugh, the kind that said she'd heard this sort of thing before and didn't mind it one bit.

"Careful, Hector," she teased, giving his hand a firm shake. "Flint already thinks your mustache is too perfect for its own good."

Hector raised an eyebrow, half‑playful, half‑hopeful. "Should I take that as a warning… or a compliment?"

"A little of both," she teased, her smile soft but practical. "I appreciate the attention. Who wouldn't? But I'm very happily spoken for."

He accepted that with a gracious nod, the grin still lingering. "Fair enough. I know when I'm outmatched. Still... you made the broadcast tonight."

Lady Jaye released his hand and stepped back, and giving a wink said, "Anytime, Hector. Just keep the flattery studio‑safe."

A Twenty Questions Special Investigation

It's G.I. Joe Against Cobra

Somewhere, the Gamesmaster's new island awaited, but past the death‑maze, the oversized chessboard, the giant pinball traps (games he attended to use against both G.I. Joe and Cobra, perhaps even Dreadknoks and Cobra-La as well, in due time, but that would have to wait), he and his robot companion, Koko, were deep in his plush, overstuffed media room. 

Koko was already sprawled across a his chair, juggling popcorn in his mouth.

Gamesmaster turned on his TV, plopping down in his chair, "Oh, Koko, it's time for my favorite news program… Twenty Questions!"

Koko was unimpressed and complained, "Boooring! Let's watch something fun like Pee‑wee's Playhouse! Hehehe!"

Gamesmaster side-eyed his best friend and turned up the volume, "Nonsense! The news is fun! Especially when it's about my favorite game: G.I. Joe versus Cobra, locked in glorious, endless competition!"

Koko questioned his creator and only friend, "Gamesmaster just hopes he sees pretty lady again. Lady Jaye… hehehehe! Gamesmaster likes pretty lady, hehehe. Gamesmaster and Lady Jaye sitting in the tree... K I S S I N G!"

Gamesmaster threw his remote at Koko, "I do not! I do not! I simply appreciate staying informed."

Koko used the remote and pulled up Gamesmaster's files. "This would say differently, Gamesmaster's naughty Lady Jaye collection..... hehehe..." Winking at the camera, the ever-cheeky Koko warned anyone else watching, "NSFW, hehehe...so be careful... hehehe..."

"Great shower… but why are the towels so tiny? 

Didn't Dial‑Tone order new ones? And why do I feel 

like I'm being watched…? Eh, probably nothing!"

Gamemaster quickly turned back on Twenty Questions and was at his end with his clown-bot pal, "That's, umm, just research. Now hush, or I'll put you in the death arcades!"

The robot clown feared for his life, and slouched into position to watch the "boring" news, "Ehhh… hehehe… fine! fine! zipping it!... hehehe.."

The TV flickered. Hector Ramirez's theme music blared. The Gamesmaster leaned forward, eyes gleaming, while Koko was mumbling with his arms crossed, "Koko hates the news! hehehe."

"Ooooh, here we go! Let the game begin!" Gamesmaster said as Twenty Questions was off and running.

Cobra Evening News

 

"Good evening, citizens. I'm Lady Jaye...."

"... and this is Scarlett. We're both ready to bring you the news!"

"This is the Cobra News Network, your only trusted source for order, clarity, and the truth as Cobra sees it."

"Tonight's top stories unfold across a world in flux, where vigilance is strength and information is power. From global security updates to domestic stability reports, our correspondents bring you the facts that matter most."

"Anchoring tonight’s broadcast are our field‑tested analysts, delivering insight forged from experience and sharpened by duty. Stay tuned as we break down the day's events, expose threats to the new world order, and highlight Cobra's ongoing efforts to maintain peace through superior strategy."

"The evening begins now."

Zarana in G.I. Joe: The Movie

"How tepid can Hasbro get with this movie, sister?"

"Oh, pretty fucking tepid, brother!"

The production histories of Transformers:  The Movie and G.I. Joe:  The Movie were deeply intertwined, and the choices Hasbro made on one film directly reshaped the other. 

Several key pieces of this history ... especially around Duke's death, the Optimus Prime backlash, and the late‑stage audio change.  I am more interested in the Zarana factor, but to make sense of this all, I do have to somewhat touch on other factors.

This might be a bit NSFW under the jump, so read at your own risk.  And knowing is half the battle!  Yo Joe!

"Kiss me! This I command!"

"It's a little hard to kiss you wearing your headdress, oh great Serpentor..."