Life's tough when you're a seven foot muscle-bound reptiloid who enjoys codpieces and halter tops. Your evil overlords want you to go out and kick Captain America's ass, but all you want to do is .... dance!
To that end, it's important to always go out in your toe-free under-slung corduroy tights. Oh sure, the other ballerinas at the dance studio might titter and/or giggle, but those skinny skanks don't have crocodile skin that would tear Lycra, now do they?
Imagine how happy Alchemoid must be in the adventure depicted here. He's finally gotten Cap captured, and is free to unleash the awesome power of his Fouetté and the Patriotic Pummeler is absolutely mesmerized, jaw literally agape!
Note that while I may have made up the "fact" that Alchemoid is a reptile, it's incontrovertible* that he wants to be a ballerina. I mean, look at him!
Many thanks to Myro for sending this one along.
*(This is true only for certain very limited definitions of "incontrovertible".)
