It is a generally accepted fact that everyone drives a car of some sort (unless of course, you’re poor, Amish, or Superman).  Maybe you drive land yacht, or a semi that transforms into a robot, or possibly one of those new hybrids that run off of a combination of soybeans and lost souls.  Maybe if you’re especially favored by the gods, you get to drive a tank, or that nigh-universal attractor of babes, the 1989 Plymouth Voyager.  Regardless of what kind of car you drive though, you can be sure of one thing above all others; you’re lucky you don’t live in Eternia.  Now I know what you’re thinking, “But Ben, Eternia is the coolest planet in the universe!  Where else can you have an aluminum elephant for a head and just walk down the street without attracting any attention?”  Maybe you’re right, and if you, gentle reader, do have an aluminum elephant head (as many young folks do, nowadays) I would certainly encourage you to pay a visit to Eternia today (just make sure you spend all your Skelebucks before they switch over to the Euro though).  In terms of vehicular choice however, Eternia has got to be the most retarded planet in the Universe.  Without further ado then, let’s take a look at some of the truly awful ways that He-Man and his various homies were forced to get around:

            Now, lest you allow the awesome name of the Bashasaurus to seduce you, let me begin by pointing out that this has got to be one of the most ridiculous designs for a battle tank thingie ever.  For one thing, you just know that Man at Arms was paying through the nose to have the alignment fixed on that thing every couple of hundred miles, not to mention the horribly uneven tires wear that almost certainly resulted from absolutely horrible balancing issues.  I mean, imagine a hippopotamus driving a Mini, now savor that thought for a minute, and now think about what kind of shape the suspension would be in before long.  Ever wonder why Man at Arms wore that silly Tron helmet?  Clearly, it’s because every time you used the bashy thing on this car, it was gonna club you like a baby seal; really anyone other than Orko (since everyone else in Eternia is exactly the same height) would be taking their own life into their hands if they took this monstrosity out on the road.  Leaving aside the fact that it’s only good for hitting minions of evil who are nonetheless polite enough to stand exactly three feet in front of you, the Bashasaurus is clearly just one more automotive disappointment from Daimler-Chrysler.

            You know how Skeletor’s flunkies, toadeaters, and minions were always whining about things?  At last we can see why.  I mean, look at the Battle Bones here; if anything is worse than having to sit on the transmission hump in the back of a station wagon, this is it.  And you just know that every summer Skeletor would come downstairs to the Snake Mountain Kitchen of Doom (The Snake Mountain Kitchen of Doom, by the way, would make a most unprecedentedly excellent name for a band) and announce that it was time for their annual road trip/teambuilding expedition to Iowa.  This would never fail to elicit a general groan of dismay from his legions as none of them looked forward to spending the next 17 hours being held by about the waist by ribs of a dead dinosaur that Skeletor had apparently turned into a short bus, somewhere along the line.  I’m not even sure whether this thing had its own power source or not, in which case Beast Man and his fellow villains would have had to move the whole thing along ala Fred Flintstone.

            Next we get to the most dubious conveyance yet, the Roton.  I’m not even sure if this thing has any wheels under there, or if Skeletor had to just put it somewhere and hope that he could taunt He-Man into walking into its many swirling blades of doom.  Except they weren’t really blades, because Skeletor had gone and put these big safety plugs on all of them so that Trapjaw wouldn’t keep getting his hand cut off while he was waxing it.  I dunno, maybe Skeletor would wait until winter rolled around and then drag it up on top of the a hill overlooking the Eternia Ice Skating Rink, where, after thoroughly Criscoing up the underside, he’d get Stinkor to give him a good push down the hill, in the idle and improbable hope that He-Man and Teela would be so busy falling in love that they wouldn’t even notice this giant thing sliding down towards them at breakneck speed.  However it worked, Skeletor was clearly not a slave to practicality (or for that matter, to wearing pants of any sort).

            Finally, we get to the Dragon Walker.  This is vehicle so brilliantly stupid that it fills one’s very soul with awe to even contemplate it.  Seriously, imagine going to all the time and effort of building a device as complicated as the space shuttle, the only purpose of which is to smack you in the face with a two-by-four.  That’s what the Dragon Walker is like.  See, the way it moves is that the little cab on top slowly moves forward, and upon reaching the front, the entire body of the thing swivels forward until it’s reversed itself.  The upshot of this being that it’s a vehicle that will be equally disastrous anywhere you try to use it other than the Gobi Desert.  Every time Skeletor would try to take this monstrosity to work in the morning, it would knock down every single Japanese Maple planted along the left side of his driveway.  Once he was out on the road, it would be nigh impossible to avoid knocking down every mailbox on the street, starting with his own (which, for the curious among you, was shaped like a dolphin wearing a comical hat).  And then, when he’d finally get out on Jeff Davis Highway (Skeletor lived in Southside, back in the day) he’d take a big chunk out of every single other car he passed, which is great for him, assuming he’s running neck and neck with Mechaneck, but every on and then, he’d pass Beast Man riding off to the office on his Vespa, and Skeletor would just smash into him like some large, heavy object that smashes into a smaller, furry object with bad dialogue.  I’ll bet Skeletor had to buy like, 37 new Vespas for Beast Man over the years, but he kept driving the stupid friggin’ Dragon Walker anyway, because that’s just the kind of brave, stubborn, wonderful, retard he is.

            So happy trails, Skeletor; and if you run into Mechaneck, make sure you tell him just how useless he is, it’ll make him cry.