Guest column: Bill Mumy

Originally published October 1, 1999, in Comics Buyer’s Guide #1350–Special Peter David-themed issue

When I was informed that I was the theme of this issue, my first thought was, “Good lord, why?” My second thought was that writing the column for this issue might seem like overkill. I mentioned this to my long-time friend and writing partner, Bill Mumy, and Bill immediately volunteered to fill in. With a disturbing lack of trepidation, I said, “Sure.” Twenty-four hours and half a bottle of wine later, Mumy produced the following:

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It was 1986. I read issue #2 of Marvel’s Mark Hazzard: Merc and wrote my first fan letter ever to the author, who happened to be Peter David. And he’s never let me forget it. To be completely honest, I haven’t re-read Merc #2 in thirteen years, and I don’t know if it would move me the way it did back then today. It probably wouldn’t. I most likely was ill at the time, probably dehydrated and running a high fever, and not responsible for my actions. But, I did indeed write that letter, and Peter continues to remind me of that fact every chance he gets.

Although my appreciation of Peter’s talents has only grown over the years that he and I have been friends and collaborators, (it couldn’t possibly sink any lower than it was when it started), I certainly can’t say that he wrote any better than Stan Lee or Gardner Fox or Joe Simon or Bill Finger or John Broome or any of a score of talented writers whose comic book work greatly inspired and excited me. But, for one reason or another, they never held me down and gave me an Indian burn like Peter did. Quite simply, he physically forced me to work with him. I suppose you could call it fate. Me, I just call it blackmail.

I have a fairly unique perspective on him. We have written comic books together—Star Trek, Lost in Space, The Spectre, and Aquaman—(as well as several others that are pending and literally hundreds that have been rejected multiple times by every known publisher in existence. We’ll keep pitching them though!) We’ve collaborated on short stories, “The Black ’59″ and “The Undeadliest Game,” for the anthologies, Shock Rock and Shock Rock II, which have been published all over the world—and perhaps most memorably, we’ve created and written many television screenplays together. Space Cases, was a TV series that ran for two seasons on Nickelodeon and was syndicated in over 60 countries. Peter and I created it, produced it, and wrote 18 of the 26 episodes that aired, and basically re-wrote or outlined the remaining 8. (We’d still be working on it today if Peter hadn’t insisted on videotaping a network executive, who shall remain anonymous, with that cute goat, and then showing it to the kids in the cast at the Christmas party.)

Recently we wrote an episode of the new animated series, Roswell Conspiracies. We also have a feature film in development called Overload, and several other projects for television and film that no one is interested in.

If there are two questions I hear everyday, it’s “Dad, can I have some money?” and, “What’s Peter David really like?” Well, I’m here to tell you, “No” and—Peter’s like a sock. At first he’s nice, soft, and warm, but after a little while, he starts to stink.

Seriously, I am writing this column today to share the inside scoop with you. Basically, besides his legendary skating and charity work, Peter wants to sing, dance, act, and bring back pogs. (He invested heavily in them five years ago—it’s not a good subject to discuss with him in person, believe me.) Sure, he writes, but he hates writing, really. It’s honestly just a way for him to enter the arenas that he truly longs to be in. Lately, he’s managed to force himself into acting gigs in theater productions such as L’il Abner and Caligula. Watch for him in a new musical adaptation of the classic McFarlane tragedy, I Sleep On The Couch, coming soon to a theater near you.

Despite despising the work, Peter is the single most prolific writer I know. Several years ago, before Peter’s standup comedy skating career took off, Mark Hamill, Miguel Ferrer and I mentioned to him casually one day that the three of us would love to find a vehicle we could all act in together.

One week later, he sent us a full length feature script he had “banged out” specifically for us called Cliffhangers. It was great. We all loved it. Everyone who read it loved it. Mel Brooks actually wanted to buy it and produce it. But Peter wouldn’t let him unless Mark, Miguel and I were attached to it in writing. Brooks said, “Bill who?” and passed.

To this day, Peter won’t let anyone option that script without the three of us being attached to it. See, he’s crazy. (And anyone who has ever seen or heard him perform live rock ‘n roll music with Seduction of the Innocent will testify to that.) Then again, perhaps the real reason he hasn’t let anyone else option it, is because no one has wanted to.

I’m absolutely positive that the true reason Peter co-created Space Cases with me was so that he could be in it. And of course, he was. (Rumors reverberate to this day about the wife of a studio executive being kidnapped until Peter was given the part of his choice, but I stress to you here that nothing’s ever been proven.) He played the pivotal part of Bova’s father, “Eeyore”. Without a doubt, that was the single most important role in the entire arc of the two seasons Space Cases was on the air.

The spinoff series, Lost in Space Cases, was actually green lighted and filming on the pilot had begun before Peter quit in a huff that the network refers to as “The Almond Croissant Clause.”

Like the enigmatic late-great Andy Kaufman, and poet rock star Jim Morrison, Peter David is a brunette.

Despite all his professional achievements and arrests, Peter has never given up his “day job”. He can still be found every Monday, Wednesday and Friday evening manning the fog machine for the exotic dancers at “Lou’s” in downtown Bayport. After hours, he volunteers at the Center for Wayward Ferrets. I know he doesn’t talk about that part of his life much, but that’s the kind of guy Peter really is.

Peter’s future is bright. With his skating skills, and Latin American fanbase, there’s just no holding him back.

I was asked not to venture into this controversial subject, but I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I didn’t clear the air here: There have been many rumors regarding the real reason Peter quit writing The Incredible Hulk, a comic book he authored successfully for many, many years. Even Peter himself has offered up phony explanations to his fans in this column as an attempt to quell the barrage of inquiries regarding his departure.

Well, you’ll get the straight poop from me, folks. Peter quit the Hulk over the “color” issue. Marvel wanted the green Hulk. Peter wanted a hot pink one. After his success with the “tough guy gray Hulk”, Peter had designed a two year arc of stories for the character that transformed him into a gay, pink hued, glass blower. Marvel balked at the idea, as usual they were afraid of something truly original, and so Peter David, ever true to his muse, surrendered the title.

He’s not afraid of controversy, my friends. I once saw Peter with Paul Levitz and Marie Severin doing a rap medley of Peter Paul and Mary’s greatest hits at the Annual Image Comics Awards Show. It was… awesome.

Writer, father, singer, actor, dancer, fog machine innovator, skater, disturbed ferret healer, and… friend.

So, what have we truly learned today about this multifaceted talented man the world knows as David Peters? That he likes month-old frozen pizza? That he’d rather cut off your hand to make you more like the Aquaman he wrote, than cut off his own hand to make himself more like the Captain Hook he didn’t write? Can anyone truly say they understand the man who agreed to ghost write the autobiography of the second Flipper? Can we hope to fathom the depths of a being who once lifted a yellow taxi off the ground to retrieve a Zagnut candy bar that had fallen under it’s rear left wheel? I think not.

Similar to a Bob Burden character recently seen in a comic book turned feature film, Peter David has a spleen, and he passes gas.

Although I call him friend and partner, he calls me “Bill.” Peter remains a true mystery man. (Hey, by the way, don’t anyone tell Bob Burden that Mystery Men Comics originally came out in 1939, and he didn’t coin that title. We sure don’t want to upset that carrot cart.)

Now, I have to go re-read Mark Hazzard: Merc # 2.

And then I have some serious career evaluation to do.

The Hot Pink Hulk… think about it.

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And the moral of the foregoing is: Friends can be a double-edged sword. At least, that’s what I hear. If I ever get any friends, I’ll judge at that point.

(Peter David, writer of stuff, can be written to at Second Age, Inc., PO Box 239, Bayport, NY 11705.)