Go to Comic Con done up as Cheetara from the Thundercats? Not bloody likely.

Go to Comic Con at all?

Oh my God. How many nerds dressed up as Han Skywalker or Captain Spock is it possible to experience without ripping the latex pointy ears from the nearest nerd skull and shoving them down your own throat to choke yourself?

For Carl I’d do most things, but not that. So we reached a deal. I won’t be Cheetara in public, but how about Cheetara in private, if you get my meaning? And Carl did, once I’d explained it three or four times.

But let’s back up a moment. The Thundercats are a kid’s animated series from the nineteen eighties about a race of humanoid cats who flee their doomed planet (Thundera) in search of a new home. Their leader is Lion-O, a muscled young figure in tight light blue lycra shorts and vest. Cheetara is the sexy cheetah woman, complete with sexy cheetah hair and voluptuous breasts cradled in the comforting embrace of more skintight lycra.

You might be thinking – bonking while done up as characters from a kid’s show? That’s weird.

Yep.

But also. Bonking while done up as characters from a kid’s show? That’s fucking hot.

If only I hadn’t giggled.

Lion-O’s costume has a hole in the middle to show off his washboard abs. In Carl’s case it’s more cheeseboard than washboard, but I made it past that point no problem. I made it all the way to the point where he took off his tiny blue shorts.

Let’s back up another moment. Lion-O carries a small sword, about the size of a bread knife I’d say. But it’s a magic sword, and he’s able to raise it and shout, “Thundercats! Ho!”, and this teeny-tiny sword experiences a massive growth in shaft length, becoming a weapon of such mighty proportions that lionesses the world over abruptly find themselves on heat.

You don’t need to be Sherlock Holmes to guess what Carl said when he took off his shorts.

And then Christ on a bike coming a cropper on the peg of a misplaced wigwam, he was out of there in a huff and not a dicky out of him for a fortnight.

What happened next is all Carl’s own fault.

I went to Comic Con.

I went to Comic Con as Cheetara from the Thundercats.

I went to Comic Con as Cheetara from the Thundercats in nothing but a pair of yellow bikini bottoms and all over body paint.

I went to Comic Con and I screwed a dude done up as Scar from the Lion King. I couldn’t help it. My favourite character? This guy done up in all over body paint, barely the whites of his eyes showing, and his skinny arms and bulbous tummy were the perfect backdrop for Scar’s bony frame. It was the hottest thing ever, boning the evil uncle lion whilst done up as your boyfriend’s favourite lust character from his childhood.

Oh. God.

Carl is coming over soon. He says he has something to confess, but come on – what could Carl possibly have done at Comic Con worse than what I did?