Oh Calamity

In 1986, the editor of the Beano, Euan Kerr, had an idea for a new story for his comic. It was going to star a character who was, quite simply, the unluckiest boy in the world. This character was dubbed Calamity James, an artist was assigned to him, and a test page was produced. That page was reproduced in the 2008 book The Official History of the Beano:

Which may not have been what you were expecting.

Originally assigned artist Henry Davies' take on the character had a serious problem: its tone was felt to be depressing, rather than darkly funny. Several other artists in the D. C. Thomson office had a go after it was decided Davies' work would not be used,¹ but they were also unable to thread the needle, and the character was on the verge of being scrapped when someone decided to let Tom Paterson have a go.

Paterson was a very new hire to D. C. who had only started that year -- in fact James would be his first strip for one of their titles -- but he had been drawing comics for rival publisher Fleetway since 1973, aged just nineteen (perhaps most famously drawing the ultimate enfant terrible Sweeny Toddler for most of his tenure); he was one of several Fleetway artists to start working for D. C. in the late eighties as Fleetway's comics empire started to dissipate. Paterson managed to find the tone they had been going for, and James duly debuted in the 01/11/86 edition of the Beano:

Nip and Tuck

At the end of January 1987, Fleetway Publications launched what would be their last new humour anthology comic for children. Apart from being published on a fortnightly schedule, Nipper had a gimmick of being printed in A5 size, compared to the A4 used by every other comic at that point (allowing it to claim it contained 48 pages), and it continued this theme by having most of its strips feature protagonists younger than those of other titles.

Just six issues in, the 'pint-sized' ploy was dropped, and henceforth the comic would be printed in A4 size. Another ten editions on, and it would all be over -- the sixteenth and final issue was on newsstands before August was out, after which it met the fate of so many of its stablemates when it merged into Buster. Although it managed to squeeze in a Summer Special and even a Christmas annual, Nipper is the ultimate mayfly of its genre's short-lived titles. This is perhaps best summed up by the fact that there were nineteen issues of Buster branded as Buster and Nipper -- three more than Nipper itself.

Beyond being stuck with the dubious honours of being the final and shortest-lived Fleetway title of its kind, did Nipper retain any kind of legacy? It's time to scan in an entire issue and find out.

36 on E4

06/03/26 update: If you viewed this post before that date, please check the end of the cuts section for a fairly important addendum!

Cast your mind back, if you will, to December 2024. In one fateful press release, Channel 4 destroyed all we had known about British broadcasts of The Simpsons for the last few decades. Sky would no longer be the home for new episodes of Our Favourite Family, for Season 36 would be the first season to debut exclusively on Disney+; henceforth, Sky would only carry repeats. Channel 4 would move their broadcasts of the show to E4 in January, becoming the only place to see new episodes on linear television.

And so it came to be that on 28 December 2025, Season 36 became the first season to make its linear debut in the UK on E4, a little over nine months after it started being added to Disney+ on a weekly basis (and almost exactly fifteen months since the season started on FOX). Obviously a longer delay between the episodes' premieres in the US and Sky than we were accustomed to, but -- disregarding BBC Two's special dispensation to air "The Trouble With Trillions" on Cuba Night back in 1999 -- a record for an episode making its debut on free-to-air television in the UK.

As with their premiere of Season 32 at the start of last year, E4 ran the episodes in double-bills on Sunday nights at 8pm. In week 4, "Treehouse of Horror Presents: Simpsons Wicked This Way Comes" and "Convenience Airways" were pushed to 5:30pm by live sports coverage.

As we might have expected, this run did not include the four Disney+-exclusive episodes (the double-length "O C'mon All Ye Faithful", "The Past and the Furious" and "Yellow Planet") -- it seems pretty certain that these, and future Mouse-trapped instalments, will indeed remain exclusive to the platform. With S36 running to just 18 episodes that premiered 'normally', this meant the entire run was over and done with in just nine weeks.

But enough of all this. What about the cuts?

Say My Name

When I started this blog in December 2016, there wasn't really a huge amount of planning involved. I needed to write something about (of course) an adventure gamebook from the 1980s in reply to someone, Blogger was there, for the first few days of its life it had some placeholder name I can no longer remember. Then about a week or so later I wrote another 'proper' post and it took on its current name, chosen because it seemed amusingly self-deprecatory,¹ and without any expectation that it would ever find any kind of widespread audience.

I've mentioned this before, but -- even without the fact that I was proven wrong and, after a bit of time working out exactly what I wanted it to be, the blog has evolved into something with a bit of a following -- I've never been hugely thrilled with the name I ended up with. I've considered having some artwork depicting a reading niche commissioned before. I think maybe it's too late to change it altogether now.

Except writing about comics has made me reconsider how appropriate the name is at all. When I am writing about Dennis the Menace, Desperate Dan, The Numskulls, Bananaman or Ivor Lott and Tony Broke, am I not writing about the history of characters who have made a significant cultural impact? Surely that's something with definite mainstream appeal? Is the name of the blog actively handicapping it? Am I not even doing a disservice to the people involved in the making of the thing I'm writing about?

Fruitcake

Well, I've managed to get a Sabrina Carpenter reference into the title of a post about British humour comics from the 1980s, what more do you want?

Ahem. Nutty -- often described as D. C. Thomson's attempt to create a more anarchic comic, more like some of those published by rivals Fleetway -- racked up a pretty respectable run of 292 issues over five and a half years, and birthed one of D. C.'s most iconic characters of all time. In The Ultimate Book of British Comics, Graham Kibble-White dubs it "arguably the best-ever contender for becoming that elusive third 'big' humour comic", alongside the Beano and the Dandy. Even if its other characters were somewhat overshadowed by its cover star, many of them lasted for quite a while after the comic merged with the Dandy in September 1985, and of course Bananaman himself survived not only the closure of his original home, but also that of the Dandy in 2012, becoming the only strip from that comic to move to the Beano. (If the characters need to visit another town, or Beanotown United are playing a football game, then very often the scriptwriters will go for "Nuttytown".)

The issue we'll be dissecting today is number #49, hailing from January 1981; should it prove possible, it'll probably be worth scanning in one of the final issues to compare at some point down the line, but we are at the mercy of the big pile of comics in the local charity shop for that. But here we go.

The Simplest Puzzle in Gamebook History

Lone Wolf #9, The Cauldron of Fear, there.

Like a Circle in a Spiral

In the second book of Steve Jackson's Sorcery!, Kharé -- Cityport of Traps, you can find a wishing well in the city centre. As you do.

A little further up the road, you come to a well. A rope hangs down from a pulley deep into the well. You walk up to it and, as you approach, you can hear a woman's voice singing. It seems to be coming from the well itself and to be directed at you:

'My dear, your fortune can be told

If you will cross my palm with gold.'

Do you wish to toss a Gold Piece into the well? If so, turn to 217. If you'd rather not bother, continue by turning to 319.

If one does chuck in a Gold Piece, then they will be met with this:

You throw in your coin and wait for several seconds before you hear it plop into water at the bottom. The well is evidently very deep. The voice sings out again:

'If you'll toss one more coin to me

Two wishes will I grant for thee.'

Do you want to throw in another coin? If so, turn to 152. If not, you may continue (turn to 319).

As you may have already guessed, you will never get anything of use from the well: throwing in a second coin, and then another, and then another, will send you to further sections on very similar themes, and eventually loop you back to 152. This can get the player to waste four Gold Pieces (or even more if they don't keep track of section numbers carefully), but is otherwise harmless. But this is an early prototype for something else.

Sugar and Spice

In January 1985 (the 29th, if you want to be really specific), the recently appointed editor of the Beano, Euan Kerr, and his sub-editor Alan Digby, had an idea for a new character -- a little girl, aged about 3 or 4, who wanted to be as tough as Dennis the Menace or Minnie the Minx, but didn’t have the strength or maturity to carry it off. To draw this strip, they enlisted the services of Robert Nixon -- recently returned to D. C. Thomson after over a decade working for Fleetway/IPC, at Kerr's request.

Nixon had started out at D. C. in 1964, most notably drawing Roger the Dodger amongst several other characters, but in 1972 he departed to work for rival publishers Fleetway, where he specialised in comedy-horror stories such as Frankie Stein, Hire a Horror and Jaws parody Gums, but also lighter fare including Kid King and Six Million Dollar Man spoof The 12 ^1/2p Buytonic Boy. When Kerr first became Beano editor in late 1984, he contacted Nixon about the possibility of returning to some of his old D. C. stories whilst also continuing to work for Fleetway -- an arrangement which became very familiar over the next decade as the amount of new material published by Fleetway shrank, but did not appeal to Nixon.

A week after he turned Kerr down, though, Nixon learned he was to be moved off of several of his current Fleetway strips,¹ and -- perhaps guessing what the next few years would bring for the publisher -- decided to return to D. C. (although he continued to draw for Fleetway until early 1986), where he would resume drawing Roger the Dodger and also take over big hitters such as Korky the Cat and Beryl the Peril, but this new character would be the first of several he originated on his second time round, by far the best-loved,² and Nixon's personal favourite of all the stories he drew for D. C.

Nixon’s early designs for the character (modelled on Alan Digby’s daughter Jane) went down a storm, and just over three months after he was first sent the details of what she should look like, Ivy the Terrible made her debut in the 4th May, 1985 issue of the comic.

This scan rescued, via the Internet Archive, from the sadly now-defunct old Beano website.