Imaginary babies can be fun. Not the invisible type that strange people roll around in empty strollers, but the type that are the byproduct of the game, “What if So-N-So and Wassername had a baby?” Some of my favorites include, “What if Reed Richards and Mystique had a baby?” or “What if Black Panther and Cheetarah had a baby?” or best “What if JC and Tina Fey had a baby?” They all have interesting answers. The one we’re working on today is “What if Anne Rice and Edgar Allen Poe had a baby, and Matt Groening held the camcorder during delivery?” That’s kind of what we’re dealing with when we look at Baltimore: The Play.

Working off the creation he breathed into life in 2007, Mike Mignola continues to pulls the strings of a character known as Captain Lord Henry Baltimore. During a night attack in World War I, most of Baltimore’s men were gunned down by enemy fire. Awakening a while later, Baltimore finds himself not unscathed and the remains of his men being fed upon by gigantic bat creatures. Having scarred one’s face terribly with his bayonet and in return having his leg infested, turned gangrenous, and removed just cracks the surface of Lord Baltimore’s tale.

This particular tale takes place in a plague-worn Italy. A “plague” brought on by Haigus, a.k.a. the Red King vampire, a vampire with a nasty scar on the right side of his face. A scar that looks as if it could have been acquired on a battle field . . .  Luckily, in this time of famine and plague, a theatrical production is about to make its debut and turn the minds of the people to another life for a few hours while being distracted from their own. The leading lady is a vision of beauty, the villain the embodiment of vileness and deceit, and the company a throng of players compelled to do their best to make their point. This is where the “baby” bit mentioned earlier comes into play.

The cast, while putting on a production of The Masque of the Red Death, are revealed to be sycophantic, yes-man vampires turned by Haigus. Vampires posing as cast member of a theater company? Louis, Lestat, and Armand are going to be kicking themselves for missing this performance. Luckily for us, we get the most precise dialogue and direction, although it’s second-hand, from the source: Edgar Allen Poe. At least, his darkly, reanimated head floating in a glass jar. Good news, everyone! We have the author right here! What we don’t have (or at least what I’m not going to tell you) is who is behind all of this in actuality. You’ll have to pick it up. Check out a few of the back issues previously released, and I’ll help sate your appetite until dinner is served.

It’s like the man said, “The play’s the thing.”

HAPPY THANKSGIVING, ALL!