Dusk and Twilight is, no pun, a dark strip. The splash page introduces us to Dusk, who may look like he’s in a carnival act, but he’s actually a murderer with hands of steel and a gentle disposition. We learn these two details on the second page, when he goes to a famous brain surgeon’s house, asks the little daughter to show him into the dad’s office, strangles the dad, pats the daughter on the head, and strolls away slowly enough to make sure he gets to hear the daughter find the body.

It’s creepy. It’s the youngest kid ever in danger in The Spirit; it’s the strip’s first psychopathic-killer protagonist of this nature; and it’s not even the biggest swing in the strip. Once Dusk is done delighting in the screams of a little girl, he goes on a jaunt through a nearby cemetery. It just happens to be Wildwood Cemetery, where Spirit and Ebony are returning home after their latest adventure. Ebony’s a little nonplussed about it, prompting Spirit to ask why he’s not more excited about catching killers.

Ebony looks directly at the reader and asks how he’s supposed to be so invested in human life when Europeans are being murdered by the thousands, and no one in the United States seems to give a shit. After a “right on” from Spirit, Dusk happens across the duo and starts thinking about killing at least one of them. Spirit spots something off about this particular guest star, and they take a walk, leaving Ebony to wait.

Dusk will take Spirit to his underground lair and introduce him to his wife, Twilight, who Dusk has kidnapped and either kept primal or made primal. Twilight’s always trying to kill Dusk with throwing knives, but she’s got terrible depth perception. She’ll later prove perfectly good slashing with her knives, but only when Spirit’s trying not to hit another female guest star in the strip.

At this point, Dusk becomes less scary and a tad more cartoonish. Spirit has had savage wild women before; it’s had mad scientists who make mutant henchmen to fight Spirit. Even after an interlude at the Central City police department, so Dolan can get on the case, and the briefing talks about the little girl finding the dad’s body, Dusk seems a little more for a smile than a scare. Not a laugh, he’s too dangerous to be funny, but he’s got personality. Especially once he discovers Spirit isn’t the kindred… spirit (sorry), he had hoped.

The art is sometimes a little more Expressionist in the establishing shots than usual, lots of curling visuals, including Dusk’s wiry frame. But the art’s also rather hurried. Lots goes on with varying levels of detail; figure detail, character detail, yes; background detail, detailed scenery, no. Again, it’s hurried. And a lot of the strip’s visual pacing relies on sight gags, which makes it feel more like a traditional comic strip at times–panel, panel, punchline, and so on.

It’s a solid Spirit. Outside the opening macabre (and Ebony’s plea), it’s not particularly distinct (well, Spirit does get really upset about having to fight another lady, as I said), just a perfectly fine strip.

Five Passengers opens on a moody airstrip with an unlikely cast. A local schoolteacher’s favorite assignment is to bring the youngsters to watch the flight to Washington D.C. Each student gets to pick one of the passengers they’re watching board and write a fictional biography of the person. Given the strip will eventually involve foreign agents and other ill-intentioned folk, it’s strange no one ever thinks the schoolteacher’s off. The pilots even comment on the teacher and his class; it’s a regular field trip.

The school field trip is just a bookending device, however, and the action quickly gets underway with the incredible events aboard the airplane once it is in flight. There’s a mobster turned FBI informant on the plane, and the only way the mob can get him is to take him out on the plane, then for the hitman to parachute. A concerned older passenger observes, dressed entirely in blue, but can’t possibly be Spirit in disguise because he’s not just wearing glasses, he’s also got an old man white hair tuft beard.

It’s the Spirit, of course, who’s there on an unrelated case. Also, on board on an unrelated case is that foreign agent, who aids the mob hitman in his escape before turning to his own, now easily attainable, business. So everyone’s got their own agenda, there’s the potential for numerous double-crosses, and as long as the knocked out flight attendant doesn’t roll out of the plane, every Passenger will have either died or killed another passenger.

Then there’s a surprise after all that intrigue—which already will have involved parachutes, multiple disguise reveals, and a possible logic error in the narration text—but it’s not enough for Eisner; there’s got to be a comeback reveal. Then the bookend finish. Then something appropriately pro-British, because there’s a war on and everything.

Even the reveal at the end is basically just a cameo guest appearance, with some entirely functional dialogue to pass the time. Eisner and studio turn everything up to eleven with this strip—the opening has the class on the field trip to appeal to same-age readers, followed by almost immediate intrigue, violent mob action, and airplane peril. It’s a showcase of extremes, except there’s minimal Spirit fisticuffs. It’s not a Spirit action showcase, it’s a soft pilot for Spy Spirit’s Mystery of the Week. And it’s interesting to see Eisner and studio flex with narrative promises over visual ones. The strip’s a very accessible Spirit, especially in a newspaper full of war news.

The art’s entirely solid, with some moody panels but no real standouts. The timing is excellent, with Passengers using comedic comic strip timing in an intrigue setting and such. The strip’s successful; it just lacks any particular oomph, which is a choice given the guest star’s identity.

And, now, Killer McNobby takes the crown for most formal flexing Spirit strip. They do the narration entirely in rhyme, with accompanying illustration. It’s almost like Eisner and studio realized if they didn’t do something different with it, Killer would be maybe the fifth “Spirit vs. Titular (asterisk) Criminal” strip. Maybe tenth. It’s kind of a default by now, enough so they’ve been deconstructing the tropes recently.

Killer is a bad dude who starts small and gets bolder and more successful. His modus operandi is killing his victims so there aren’t any witnesses to his robberies. There’s a simplicity to the man, and Central City knows to fear him. But Spirit’s not scared, so they get into a fist fight from afternoon to the next morning in a lot in the slums. Gangsters either do or do not show up, the underworld definitely comes out, but the rhyme—there’s eventually a chorus, it’s a song, it’s an urban folk fight song for Spirit; it’s a big ol’ swing. But before I get too distracted by how well-executed Killer gets, I’ll note the incongruities in the lyrics.

The lyrics are impressive in terms of humor and rhyming; in terms of relaying the narrative as it plays out in the accompanying illustrations… they get a C. It happens a lot during the fight sequence, which is unfortunate because it’s a glorious fight sequence after the build-up. Once it’s clear we’re headed into fisticuffs, the rhymes either do or don’t make sense with the illustrations; they quickly become confusing. More confusing is the lyrics not making sense between the rhymes; they lose internal consistency for a while and just roll with it, presumably because they knew once you saw the fight page, you were reading as fast as you could to get to that one. Killer must have looked great on the newspaper page.

There’s not much story. Spirit just goes after dude when enough is enough. They get into the fight, they both have highs and lows, and then there’s the finish. And Eisner and studio change up the lyric structure again to get to a rhyme, saying whatever they have to say to get there. It’s ambitious, it’s successful, it’s just not particularly tenacious. They do an awesome, delightful strip. When re-reading the lyrics to try to understand how the underworld can all be in attendance without any gangsters, the art starts to feel distracting. And the way Eisner works the art to ignore traditional comic strip narrative—it’s far more expressive, both for humor and exposition. It just doesn’t always fit with the lyrics, except typographically, of course. There’s a not zero chance much of the song was written to fit the spaces between the visuals. Killer’s a gorgeously illustrated strip; they worked hard on this one, and they deliver.

Spirit’s been making lots of big swings lately, both in narrative and style; Killer McNobby’s the champ.

For now, anyhow.