You ever read a Tarzan comic and think, yeah, but what if the vine swinging was just foreplay? That's Betty Brickhouse. She's this blonde bombshell in a leopard print bikini that's basically body paint with ambition, flying through the jungle. And JD, this Tarzan knockoff with a permanent squint, is on her tail. The whole thing has that vibe of a comic you'd find on a sketchy site at 2 AM, the kind where the art looks like it was drawn with a single minded focus and absolutely no time spent on backgrounds. The jungle is just green smudges. Who cares.

The strip down happens fast. JD catches her, and there's no dialogue, no "me Tarzan, you confused," just grunts and the sound of a bikini top snapping. The sex scenes are the main course, obviously, and they cycle through positions with the mechanical dedication of a flipbook. There's one where she's bent over a log that's so conveniently placed it's almost a character itself. The whole thing is crude, the lines are thick, the anatomy goes a bit rubbery when things get intense. But it knows what it is. It's a delivery system for one thing, and it delivers with the subtlety of a coconut to the head. The sweat drops are drawn with the same weight as the jungle rain, which is a weirdly artistic choice I can't stop thinking about.

Then JD finishes, lights up a cigarette, and swings off into the canopy like he just clocked out of a shift. That's it. No cuddling, no vine-sharing. The post nut clarity must have hit him mid air. And then, the real star arrives. A chimpanzee. He pops up, makes the most unambiguously lewd gesture at Betty, and the comic ends. It's a punchline that comes out of nowhere and it's the funniest, most honest part of the whole thing. The game is basically that chimp's gesture, digitized. It's a messy, horny, single serving of a story that doesn't pretend to be anything else. I just wish the bikini stayed on a bit longer, the tease was the best part and it was over in three panels.