Alison is totally committed to getting the job. She’s willing to do anything at all for it. There are a couple of reasons why this is a little strange. First: It’s a job in fast food. Second: She’s willing to continue the interview with a bag over her head in the back of a van with an interviewer who is in the exact same position. This is where everything opens in Trve Kvlt #2. Writer Scott Bryan Wilson carves out another truly strange chapter in a deeply engaging, offbeat adventure that is brought to the page by artist Liana Kangas. Wilson and Kangas found something deeply, deeply weird and pried it out of the jaws of traditional crime drama.

It’s dark in the back of a van with a bag over one’s head. Marty knows the town well enough that he could probably figure out where they’re driving by the turns the van is taking, but Alison insists on continuing the interview for a job she’s way overqualified for. When the bags come off, Alison and Marty find themselves face-to-face with a ranking member of the Church of the Immortal Heartbeat. It’s a nice name for a group of Satanists. Alison and Marty aren’t exactly going to be victims of some sinister cult, though. They’re going to be offered work. 

Wilson develops the world of the story some more. The Christian motif of Burger Lord becomes just a bit clearer in an issue that gives Alison a great deal more of an opportunity to reveal her work experience during one of the stranger job interviews ever committed to fiction. Every single character in the ensemble has something deeply, deeply bizarre about them, which makes the whole series that much more fascinating as Wilson and Kangas wade ever-deeper into it. All of the weirdness would run the risk of being impenetrably strange were it not for the fact that Wilson is guiding it through the all-too-familiar territory of fast food and a Satanic cult. 

Kangas is remarkably patient with the script. The full reality of a blind conversation in the darkness in the back of a van is brought to the page by a series of 9-panel pages covered in ink, dialogue balloons, captions, and...nothing else. As a storytelling technique, it’s actually kind of brilliant. When the bags come off, the reader gets the sudden rush of a very strange sort of visual. Meanwhile, the fast food-based drama of the rest of the issue continues to feel distinct. The institutional blue and yellow color scheme of Burger Lord may feel a bit more like an Ikea than actual fast food, but Kangas keeps the rest of the visuals solidly grounded in a low-budget chain restaurant atmosphere.

The best thing about Trve Kvlt may be its unpredictability. Wilson and Kangas manage to make it through a full second chapter without revealing enough about the world of the series to allow the reader any clue as to where things are going. The good news is that they do this while maintaining a sense of direction from issue to issue. A mysterious world like that of Trve Kvlt runs the risk of losing its appeal once enough of the story has been revealed, but for now, it remains deeply enjoyable.

Grade: A