It’s been a little while since we’ve done any cover snark, and how do we herald the return of this time-honored feature? With bad fantasy covers, of course. If there’s a genre blessed with even worse covers than romance novels, fantasy (especially sword-and-sorcery high fantasy) would be it, with science fiction hot on its effete elven heels. So put on your robe and wizard hat, and get ready to cast Level 8 Cock of the Infinite, as we present to you fantasy covers that could be made more awesome only by the presence of metal bras. (Alas, the bras, they are distinctly lacking. But God knows the cover artists threw just about everything else in here.)
Candy: This is what happens when you transport people in Accounts Payable circa 1986 to a Magic Land. Or would that be the Yamhill County Renn Faire? Whatever. What exactly are those two poor human schmucks going to do when the weird, fanged creatures attack them? Refuse to issue a purchase order? Get Human Resources to fuck up their paychecks? Spread catty rumors about what they REALLY did in the copy room with the VP’s wife during the last Christmas party? Terrify them with the power of their neatly-combed bangs?
Sarah: He’s all, “Watch me smack that purple head with my big stick while a unicorn flies sideways out my ass,” but she’s not watching because while she feels up that green dragon, he’s saving her life with his very special, very scaly big stick.
Candy: Holy crap! And we move from Accounts Receivable in the previous book to crappy exercise equipment infomercials. The dude is channeling the Powah of the Mullet to blast a muppet to smithereens. And is that woman nekkid? For real? Like, nipples and everything? And meanwhile, the bastard child of Kermit and Jabba screams in terror in the background.
Sarah: Wonder Twin powers, Activate! Form of… WTF!
Candy: That’s an amazing power, to be able to summon dragons from your staff and have them dive right back into your butt. Young magicians are so talented nowadays. And so unabashed about their steroid abuse.
Sarah: While the corpses of contestants past litter the ground around him, Dolph, with an effortless split accessorized by ass gas of fire, seals his victory on “So You Think You Can Dance: DragonCon Edition.”