While this blog has briefly touched on the matter of Marvel’s 1974-75 line of “Giant-Size” comics in a few previous discussions, this is the first time we’ve devoted a post to a book in that fairly short-lived format.  So, I hope you all won’t mind if we take a little time here at the top of the page, before we flip past Giant-Size Master of Kung Fu #1’s Ron Wilson-Mike Esposito cover to take a look at this issue’s specific contents, to get into a little background on the introduction and early days of the “Giant-Size” format in general.  It’s an interesting story (at least in my opinion) that seems to indicate a certain degree of disorder in the Marvel offices around this time — disorder which might rise to the level of full-on chaos, but then again might not, depending on your point of view. 

On the other hand, if you do kinda mind — whether because you came here strictly to read about Shang-Chi, or because you simply don’t care all that much about the behind-the-scenes stuff, or because of, well, any other reason — no worries.  Just click here to skip ahead, and the rest of us will catch up with you in a bit.  (Hey, I’ll never know if you click or not, so there’s no need to worry about hurting my feelings.)

For those still with me… our story begins with the following full-page house ad, which ran in various Marvel comics during the month of February, 1974 (for the record, this particular scan comes from Creatures on the Loose #29):

Obviously, Marvel was no stranger to the concept of “giant-size” in early 1974.  Even setting aside the reprint books, like Marvel Tales and Marvel’s Greatest Comics, which had thrived for years in a 64-page format before moving more recently to a “standard” 32-page size, there were their well-remembered, (mostly) all-new Annuals of the 1960s, and even a couple of late ’60s titles that had come out on a regular bi-monthly schedule at the 64-page size (at least for a while) — Not Brand Echh and Silver Surfer.  And then there was the very brief initiative in the summer of ’71 to make the whole line giant-sized (i.e., 48 pages for a quarter).  But to launch two new monthly giant-size books at the same time (more or less) seemed like a pretty big deal.

Fans who flipped from this house ad over to the month’s Bullpen Bulletins page were granted further details, including that the new 35-centers would be 48 pages long (same as ’71’s 25-centers) — or 52 pages if you, like the Bullpen, counted the covers — and that the unnamed “colossal companion-mag” to Giant-Size Super-Stars that was mentioned but not named in the ad would be called Giant-Size Chillers.  Like GSSS, GSC would be published monthly; also like it (and like The NBC Mystery Movie, a then-current TV “wheel series” whose original line-up of McCloud, Columbo, and McMillan & Wife was evidently a direct inspiration for Marvel’s concept), it would rotate its lead feature spot among three different (but all horror-oriented) strips: The Curse of Dracula, Werewolf by Night, and Man-Thing.

What prompted this sudden push towards a larger, pricier format?  To some extent, it was simply one more in a long series of attempts by the major American comic book publishers to come up with a product that was more attractive to retailers and distributors who, under the old newsstand distribution system, made significantly less profit per item on comics than they did more expensive magazines; the late-1973 expansion of the “100-Page Super-Spectacular” format by Marvel’s main rival, DC Comics, was another example from around this same time.  That said, the timing of Marvel’s move also seems to have been driven at least in part by a desire to offset the effects of raising the price of their standard 32-page comics from 20 to 25 cents — a change which, like the advent of the new “Giant-Size” books, went into effect in February, 1974.  I don’t think it’s by accident that the announcement of the price hike on Marvel’s letters pages went out of its way to promote not only the publisher’s existing line of 75-cent magazines, but also to herald the arrival of the new 35-cent giants, specifically claiming that the latter represented “a bigger bargain than ever” when it came to giving Marvelites value for their money.

And then, there also may have been a more personal motive in play — or at least that’s the impression given by Marvel editor-in-chief Roy Thomas in the “self-indulgent sermonette” which appeared in Giant-Size Super-Stars #1 between its 24-page all-new lead story by Gerry Conway, Rich Buckler, and Joe Sinnott, and the 7 pages of old FF villain pin-ups by Jack Kirby that rounded out the issue:

Thomas’ editorial went on to further discuss the format and content of this premiere issue, emphasizing the novel rotating-lead feature aspect, as well as to preview what would be coming the very next month in Giant-Size Super-Stars #2, as the spotlight turned to Spider-Man.  A few pages later, a half-page house ad further whetted fannish appetites for this coming attraction:

But a funny thing happened on this story’s journey to the spinner rack, as there never would be a Giant-Size Super-Stars #2, whether featuring Spider-Man, the Fantastic Four, Conan the Barbarian, or anyone else.  Instead, the three-way tussle between Spidey, Morbius, and Man-Wolf promised for that issue turned up in the first issue of a new quarterly 35-cent/48-page comic called Giant-Size Super-Heroes.

As you might imagine, an explanation for this unexpected turn of events was proffered on a text page in the middle of the book, once again (and unsurprisingly) scribed by Roy Thomas:

The reasoning behind breaking up one monthly book into three quarterlies makes a good deal of sense; still, that’s a pretty swift course change, right?  What makes the whole scenario even more bizarre is that, if the release date given for Giant-Size Super-Heroes #1 by both the Grand Comics Database and Mike’s Amazing World of Comics is accurate, the book came out on February 19th — a whole week before the release of Giant-Size Super-Stars #1.  It’s possible, of course that both of those esteemed reference resources have got the date wrong; but if they haven’t, it means that many fans must have read Thomas’ “apologia” days ahead of the “sermonette” it’s supposedly apologizing for.  (Personally, I don’t remember buying or reading GSSH #1 prior to perusing GSSS #1, but that doesn’t necessarily mean that it didn’t happen that way.)  Which, if you ask me, would tip an already awkward situation into the category of absurdity, if only of a modest sort.

But Marvel was just warming up.  In March, the publisher released its third 35-cent comic, the first issue of Giant-Size Chillers “featuring The Curse of Dracula“, pretty much as originally advertised.  It looked like we should all be able to sit back now and wait for the imminent arrival of the fourth promised “Giant-Size” title, the Defenders-fronted Giant-Size Super-Teams, as well as the debuts of the first titles in “a brand-new line of 60¢, one-hundred-page extravaganzas” (a price-and-size combo identical to DC’s “Super-Spectaculars”, by the way) — Super-Giant Conan, Super-Giant Avengers, and Super-Giant Spider-Man (the latter being distinguished from the existing Giant-Size Super-Heroes by virtue of being a plus-sized take on Marvel Team-Up).

When April came rolling in, however, not a one of those books came with it — at least, not in the precise forms, or with the exact titles, under which they’d been promoted.  Rather, we got the first issue of Giant-Size Creatures “featuring Werewolf by Night” (which was initially supposed to be Giant-Size Chillers #2, remember?) — a comic that as it turned out, was not only the fourth, but also the last, of Marvel’s “Giant-Size” line to be published in the 35-cent, 48-page format.  Also arriving on stands that month were the first issues of Giant-Size Defenders and Giant-Size Spider-Man “and Dracula” — but neither of them matched Thomas’ description of the 60-cent “Super-Giants”.  Rather, these babies sold for the previously unmentioned price of fifty cents, and weighed in at 64 pages, not 96 (which was also the actual page count of DC’s “100-Page Super-Spectaculars”, if you didn’t count their covers).

Once again, the redoubtable Roy Thomas took to the text page of one of the new books — Giant-Size Spider-Man #1, this time — to ‘splain Marvel’s latest course-correction (and for those who may be getting just a little weary of Mr. Thomas’ prose by this point, and would just as soon cut to the chase, let it be known that the reason had to do with “the Numbers” — i.e., money.  Imagine that.):

Got it?  I hope so, because this “illuminating introduction” represents the last word (more or less) on the myriad variations on and adjustments to Marvel’s fledgling “Giant-Size” format, which pretty well settled down after this month.  So, after yielding to the irresistible temptation to note the irony of Thomas’ not-so-subtle dig as DC for filling most of their “Super-Spectaculars” with reprint material — more specifically, with “a lot of reprints of 1940’s heroes that nobody’s heard of in thirty years or more” (this from a huge Golden Age comics fan whose ready willingness to revive obscure old ’40s superheroes at the drop of a hat would prove to be one of the hallmarks of his career) — we’ll leave Rascally Roy alone for the remainder of this post.  (Well, we’ll try, at least)  Again, all of the reasoning behind the changes, as outlined at length by the Marvel EIC, makes sense — but the fact that all of these developments happened over a mere three-month period, and in full public view, is pretty remarkable.

Along with the customary spring flowers, the month of May, 1974 saw the sprouting of two more new large-format comics —  Giant-Size Avengers (in which Roy Thomas… um… brought back an obscure ’40s hero named the Whizzer; OK, now we’re done) and Giant-Size Man-Thing (which had originally been titled Giant-Size Monsters), as well as the second issue of what had initially been called Giant-Size Super-Stars, but was now simply Giant-Size Fantastic Four.  The transition of the original clutch of “Giant-Size” comics from their 35-cent/48-page format incarnations continued into June, as Giant-Size Dracula #2 (rather than Giant-Size Chillers #2) arrived in spinner racks.

June would also bring the debuts of Marvel’s last two “Giant-Size” titles, at least for the time being.  The first of these was Giant-Size Conan — which, oddly enough, seems to have been one of the earliest releases planned (per Marvel’s full-page house ad from February, which named Conan the Barbarian as one of the three rotating lead features of the “monthly” Giant-Size Super-Stars) but ultimately took longer than most to bring to market.  The second was the title which, according to Roy Thomas in his “illuminating” Giant-Size Spider-Man #1 editorial, replaced the now-defunct solo-Spidey-starring vehicle, Giant-Size Super-Heroes, on Marvel’s publishing schedule.

Its name, of course, was Giant-Size Master of Kung Fu.

Master of Kung Fu bore the distinction of being the newest of all the Marvel features who were given a second, quarterly showcase via the “Giant-Size” line.  Even so, the move probably came as little surprise to most comics industry observers.  The martial arts genre was the hot pop-culture fad of the moment — or so it was at least perceived to be by comic-book publishers — and Marvel was intent on seizing (and squeezing) that moment as hard as it possibly could.

Beginning life as a lead feature in the 15th issue of the previously reprint-only, bimonthly title Special Marvel Edition, then taking over that title’s numbering with #17, then going monthly following #19 (its first monthly issue arrived in June, the same month as GSMoKF #1)  Master of Kung Fu had already spawned one sort-of spin-off — the black-and-white 75-cent magazine, The Deadly Hands of Kung Fu, whose first issue had hit stands in February (the same month, incidentally, that Marvel raised its “standard” size comics’ price to 25 cents, and debuted its new 35-centers), and which featured Shang-Chi as the lead among several comics features.  Adding a third, “Giant-Size” vehicle for the estranged son of Fu Manchu might not quite have ranked as a no-brainer; but in the summer of ’74, it came pretty dang close.

The main Master of Kung Fu title had been going through some creative changes of late, with both of Shang-Chi’s originators — artist Jim Starlin and writer Steve Englehart — having left the series with issues #17 and #19, respectively.  The latest issue, #20 — which came out just one week prior to Giant-Size Master of Kung Fu #1 itself — featured artwork by Paul Gulacy (Starlin’s heir apparent as of #18) and a script by a pair of writers — Gerry Conway, to whom the first half was attributed, and Doug Moench, who was credited with the second half.  Naturally, going forward, only one of the two would have the gig on the regular — and that one was Moench, who would remain on MoKF all the way to issue #122, some eight years hence… a remarkable run that got an additional preview in June, 1974, as Moench not only knocked off another Shang-Chi tale for Deadly Hands of Kung Fu #3, but also provided the scripts for all three of the new stories that filled the majority of GSMoKF #1’s pages.  (For the record, his 4 1/2 Shang-Chi stories represented only a fraction of the prolific writer’s Marvel output this month, which also included work in Vampire Tales #6, Frankenstein #12, Monsters Unleashed #7, Creatures on the Loose #31 [featuring Man-Wolf], Marvel Premiere #17 [featuring Iron Fist], Planet of the Apes #1, and Werewolf by Night #21.)

Wait, did I just say “all three of the new stories“?  I imagine that some of you who can remember all the way back to the beginning of this post may even now be objecting, as you can clearly recall that big blurb on the cover of GSMoKF #1 that very specifically promised “5 all-new steel-smashing sagas starring the one and only Shang-Chi!”  Alas, I’m afraid that that promise will prove to be inaccurate, in more ways than one — though a full explanation of that fact will have to wait a bit.

For now, let’s move on to the issue’s lead story, which finds Moench joined not only by Paul Gulacy on pencils, but by Gulacy’s “sponsor” at Marvel, the veteran artist Dan Adkins, on inks …

The street signs for Madison Ave. and 57th St. immediately identify our story’s locale as New York City — a fact that will be of some interest as we proceed through the issue…

Gulacy gives us some pretty wild foreshortening in that last panel above, no question; it’s probably worth noting that this was only his sixth published pencilling job for Marvel, and the young artist was, understandably, still figuring out what worked and what didn’t.

Shang-Chi takes out the blade-wielding assassin fairly quickly, then turns his attention to the nunchaku user…

The scene now shifts to the lair of Shang’s dad, Fu Manchu…

A lot of the stories in these “Giant-Size” comics were broken into numbered and titled chapters — presumably, to emphasize the fact that these were longer-than-standard yarns — and such is the case with the 24-page “Death Masque!”:

As best as I’ve been able to determine, in 1974 the Comics Code didn’t specifically prohibit the subject of prostitution from being addressed directly; even so, the publishers seemed inclined to be circumspect when dealing with the topic.

Shang’s opponent manages to snare his arm with the chain of his weapon — though that’s not necessarily to the former’s advantage…

Well, that took a turn, didn’t it?  It’s interesting, I think, that Shang-Chi is not shown to be resisting the advances of his new female acquaintance until after the garrote comes out.

In his parlor, Fu Manchu receives another message…

Something feels off here, at least to me.  Obviously, Shang couldn’t have dragged the original dummy all the way from where he’d originally encountered it in the first part of the story, but the script offers little justification for his oh-so-very-convenient discovery of a duplicate effigy “outside this council chamber”.  Perhaps there were some crossed signals between Moench and Gulacy as the story progressed through its plotting, drawing, and scripting stages, though that’s pure speculation on my part.  In any event, this particular segment of the narrative is a tad unconvincing in in its execution… though, naturally, it’s easy enough to set any quibbles aside once the action gets going again…

Outside of a bobble or two here and there, “Death Masque!” remains an effective one-off story, even if it only offers a hint of the excellence that the Doug Moench-Paul Gulacy team would achieve in the future.  And it is a one-off, regardless of the last panel’s ominous references to Fu Manchu’s journey to a mysterious destination in “the heart of America” — because the remaining stories in this issue take place in Miami, Florida (where the events of the main Master of Kung Fu book had recently taken our hero), and whatever else you might say about that city, I don’t believe that anyone would describe it as being located in America’s “heartland”.  (Presumably, Moench originally expected that a different story would follow directly after this one, whether in Giant-Size Master of Kung Fu or in the monthly series.  My best bet is that that story was supposed to be “A Fortune of Death!” in MoKF #22 [Nov., 1974], which centers on a plot by Fu to destroy the Mount Rushmore National Memorial — despite the fact that, as published, the two narratives don’t join up together all that well.)

At this point, my younger self knew P. Craig Russell primarily as an artist who’d done a couple of stories for Marvel’s “mystery” anthologies, as well as a bit of work on Conan the Barbarian, and a fairly striking Doctor Strange story in Marvel Premiere.  His one continuing assignment to date had been the short-lived Ant-Man series in Marvel Feature, which I’d passed on… as I was also soon to do with the work that would ultimately make his name.  That work, of course, was Russell’s run on “The War of the Worlds” in Amazing Adventures — a run which would be starting up in October, 1974, just four months out from this story’s publication.

Like Paul Gulacy, Russell was an Ohioan, and a protege of Dan Adkins; also like Gulacy, he still had a fair amount of development to get through before he’d arrive at the ornately decorative style for which he’d ultimately be renowned.  That said, you can still see glimmers of the artist’s more mature mode in this briskly-paced 8-pager.

Shang’s fellow museum-goers go on to discuss how the museum itself will doubtlessly ransom the stolen statue back from them before the Buddhist group that loaned it out even knows it’s gone.  Naturally, they have no idea that Shang has heard every word they’ve said…

The museum guard will have cause to regret his cavalier dismissal of Shang-Chi’s warning some four hours later, when the trio of thieves show up at the museum and, after picking the lock to gain entrance, knock him senseless with a lead pipe…

Honestly, does Fu Manchu really not have anything better to do with his time than eff around with his son’s day out at the museum?  This story isn’t quite as satisfying as the longer one that preceded it — though, short as it is, it’s over before it can wear out its welcome.  And Russell’s artwork, though rather rudimentary by his later high standards, is still enjoyable enough on its own terms.

Say, do you remember how one of this issue’s cover blurbs promised that the prospective buyer of Giant-Size Master of Kung Fu #1 would be getting five brand-new new stories starring Shang-Chi for their fifty cents?  And how I said that that blurb was more than a little misleading?  Well, we’ve now come to “Exhibit A” for that assertion:  a two-page non-fiction piece (hardly a “story”) featuring… Iron Fist.

This strip is signed on the first page by Frank McLaughlin (who, not so coincidentally, was himself a martial arts enthusiast, and the co-creator of the pioneering martial arts-themed superhero Judomaster in the 1960s), and the Grand Comics Database attributes the script as well as the art for “Shaolin Temple Boxing” to the veteran pro.  Regardless of who was responsible for what, it’s a nicely illustrated piece, though I can’t speak to the accuracy of the information it proffers.  (As for why it employs Iron Fist rather than this comic’s titular star, my best guess is that it was originally intended for Deadly Hands of Kung Fu, in which Iron Fist would occasionally appear in his own strip alongside those of Shang-Chi, the Sons of the Tiger, and other feature characters.)

GSMoKF #1s fourth feature is a bona fide story, at least — though, since it’s not a new one, and Shang-Chi doesn’t show his face anywhere within its eight pages, it can’t help but serve as “Exhibit B” for the lack of truth in advertising demonstrated by our offending cover blurb:

All of Marvel’s “Giant-Size” comics contained some reprint material — and seeing as how the martial arts genre was still a new phenomenon (at least so far as American comics were concerned), with the result that there was very little (if any) material in that vein available in the publisher’s archives, you can understand why Marvel chose to lean instead into the Fu Manchu angle with this reprint of the very first Yellow Claw story, as produced by the team of writer Al Feldstein and artist Joe Maneely, and published in Yellow Claw #1 (Oct., 1956).  (The introductory splash page shown above is a repurposed version of that comic’s cover, also by Maneely.)  Of course, for many contemporary readers (as well as for at least some readers in the 1970s, of course) this choice simply underscores the culturally insensitive Orientalism that would unfortunately continue to mar the Master of Kung Fu feature throughout its original run.

Moving on, we come to this issue’s fifth and final feature — which also happens to be its third (ahem) Shang-Chi story:

As noted near the beginning of this post (assuming you can remember that far back), the cover of Giant-Size Master of Kung Fu #1 was the work of penciller Ron Wilson and inker Mike Esposito — the same art team responsible for illustrating the 8-page “Reflections in a Rippled Pool” that closes out the issue.

Esposito was of course an old hand, whose career had begun in the early 1950s; Wilson, however, was yet another new young artist, who’d broken in at Marvel in 1972, but up to this time had primarily worked on covers.

Two additional would-be assassins follow Shang into the building — but though he’s aware of their presence, he chooses for now to focus on the gunman still waiting on the roof.  After reaching the building’s top floor, he opts not to proceed on up the stairs to the roof’s door, but rather to take a less direct route…

The third and final assailant goes crashing through the window of the next building’s roof, and Shang, after a moment’s consideration, follows him by making the same leap.  Upon catching up with his quarry, our hero is greeted by more than one familiar face…

The ironic — and even somewhat poignant — twist at the end of this short yarn helps edge it a little ahead of “Frozen Past, Shattered Memories” to rank as the issue’s second best story, at least in terms of its plot and script (I personally prefer Russell’s art, crude though it may be in relation to his later stuff, to the more straightforward, meant-and-potatoes work of Wilson and Esposito, but your mileage may vary.)

Anyway, that’s a wrap for the premiere issue of Giant-Size Master of Kung Fu — a very enjoyable package overall, and one I’m sure my sixteen-year-old self thought was worth the half a dollar he spent on it, back in the day.  It’s also a fine example of what could be accomplished in Marvel’s “Giant-Size” format… once they’d finally worked out all the bugs, that is.

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As we noted earlier in the post, Giant-Size Master of Kung Fu #1 came out just a week after Master of Kung Fu #20.  Between them, these comics featured the earliest collaborations between the two men who would follow MoKF‘s originators, Steve Englehart and Jim Starlin, as the series’ second great creative team: namely, Doug Moench and Paul Gulacy.  But though the pieces for the feature’s next major phase of development now seemed to be in place, for some reason it took a fair amount of time for the Moench-Gulacy combo to fully lock in.

After pencilling three issues of the monthly Master of Kung Fu title in a row — in addition to the 24-page lead story in GSMoKF #1 and a 15-page Shag-Chi tale for Deadly Hands of Kung Fu #3 — Gulacy was absent for MoKF #21, which featured instead the return of Ron Wilson as artist  Gulacy showed up again for #22, but was gone again just as quickly.  The next six issues featured an ever-changing roster of pencillers, including Wilson, Al Milgrom, Keith Pollard, John Buscema, Ed Hannigan… and Gulacy, who returned long enough to draw both issue #25 and a 40-page lead story for Giant-Size Master of Kung Fu #2 before slipping away once more.  Meanwhile, Doug Moench seemed to be having some trouble finding his footing on the strip as well.  Most if not all of his stories in this period featured yet another fruitless attempt to kill (or at least seriously mess with) his errant offspring, leading one to wonder just how formidable the insidious “Devil-Doctor” truly was.

It wasn’t until Master of Kung Fu #29 that everything seemed at last to click.  With that issue, Gulacy settled in to stay for a good long run (albeit one that saw occasional interruptions) that would last through MoKF #50; and Moench rose to the occasion, as the series moved firmly into a super-spy thriller mode in which Fu Manchu was only one of multiple menaces to world security that needed to be dealt with by Sir Denis Nayland Smith and his team of agents, which now officially included Shang-Chi.  The splash page of #29 included a blurb trumpeting “a blisteringly volatile new direction” — and this time, the blurb’s claim was right on the money.  Master of Kung Fu was off to the races at last, as Moench and his primary artistic collaborators — first Gulacy, then Mike Zeck, and finally Gene Day — proceeded to produce one of the most consistently fine comic-book series of the 1970s and early 1980s.

Unfortunately, by the time Master of Kung Fu #29 arrived on stands, your humble blogger had already moved on.  I’m honestly not sure exactly when I dropped out, and my physical comics collection doesn’t offer me many clues… though for an opposite reason than that which I described in my Planet of the Apes #1 post of a few days ago.  There, as you may recall, I explained how I can’t figure out when I stopped buying PotA because I don’t own any of my copies any more; in the case of MoKF, however, I own plenty of individual issues… but most of them were bought on the collectors’ market years later, after the scales had finally fallen from my eyes and I realized what I’d been missing.

Of course, due to the self-imposed rules of this blog, that means that I won’t be writing any further posts regarding the rising and advancing of Shang-Chi’s spirit as he grapples with the moral ambiguities inherent in the espionage world’s “games of death and deceit”… at least, not until our rolling fifty-year-old window of opportunity opens on to Master of Kung Fu #114 — the next issue of the series that I’m sure I bought new off the stands… even though by that time, “the stands” referred to the new books display at my local comics retailer, rather than the spinner rack at my nearest convenience store.

So — see you in April, 2032, everyone?

Additional cover art credits, per the Grand Comics Database and Mike’s Amazing World of Comics:

• Giant-Size Super-Stars #1 (May, 1974): Rich Buckler and Joe Sinnott
• Giant-Size Super-Heroes #1 (Jun, 1974): Gil Kane (?) and John Romita
• Giant-Size Chillers #1 (Jun., 1974): John Romita
• Giant-Size Creatures #1 (Jul., 1974): Ron Wilson (or Don Perlin?) and Frank Giacoia
• Giant-Size Defenders #1 (Jul., 1974): Gil Kane (and John Romita?) and Frank Giacoia
• Giant-Size Spider-Man #1 (Jul., 1974): John Romita
• Giant-Size Avengers #1 (Aug., 1974): Rich Buckler and John Romita
• Giant-Size Man-Thing #1 (Aug., 1974): Mike Ploog
• Giant-Size Conan #1 (Sep., 1974): Gil Kane (and John Romita?) and Ernie Chan
• Deadly Hands of Kung Fu #1 (Apr., 1974): Neal Adams
• Master of Kung Fu #20 (Sep., 1974): Gil Kane (and John Romita?) and Frank Giacoia
• Master of Kung Fu #21 (Oct., 1974): Herb Trimpe (or John Romita, or Ron Wilson) and Mike Esposito
• Master of Kung Fu #114 (Jul., 1982): Gene Day