Superman, the guy who’s supposed to be the face of hope, justice, and rebooting DC’s broken cinematic universe, now has to beg for attention with a dog biscuit giveaway. Not even a metaphorical one—a literal golden biscuit hidden inside a comic book. Two of them, actually. Welcome to 2025, where Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory isn’t just a beloved childhood film—it’s a playbook for superhero marketing.
Here’s the deal: DC is reprinting Adventure Comics #210, the 1955 issue where Krypto the Superdog made his debut, and stuffing two copies with “Krypto’s Golden Biscuit.” Find one, and you and a guest get flown out to the Superman movie premiere in Los Angeles this July. Polybagged nostalgia with a sweepstakes twist. It’s kind of brilliant in a “we’re out of ideas” way.
Let’s not kid ourselves. This isn’t about honoring a charming Silver Age story where a dog in a cape crash-lands on Earth and causes problems for Superboy. It’s about numbers. And the numbers say Superman isn’t selling. Despite a respectable run from Absolute Superman, Clark Kent hasn’t topped the charts in ages. Batman, Ultimate Spider-Man, hell—even Wolverine are outpacing him.
Once upon a time, Superman sold over a million copies a month. In the ’60s, he was the chart. Now he’s lucky to break the Top 10—and only when he’s rebooted, renumbered, or dragging a dog along for the ride. He isn’t irrelevant, but for a character that’s meant to light up the silver screen and restart a fractured universe, he isn’t exactly lighting up the charts. DC’s not just honoring comic history here—they’re trying to artificially goose sales with a golden dog treat.
Adventure Comics #210 itself is a Silver Age gem. It’s the issue where young Clark Kent reunites with his Kryptonian pet, Krypto, who was launched into space by Jor-El as a rocket test. The dog’s arrival on Earth causes chaos, joy, and the kind of identity-threatening hijinks you’d expect from a superpowered mutt who doesn’t understand secret identities.
So yeah, it’s a great story. And yeah, it deserves the spotlight. But let’s not pretend this reprint isn’t a calculated move. It’s a marketing ploy wrapped in nostalgia, sealed in plastic, and priced to sell. But based on the numbers from previous years, who is buying?
If you want a shot at the premiere, the standard facsimile edition will run you around $3.99–$4.99, while the foil variant clocks in at about $5.99–$6.99. If you’re feeling fancy, CGC-graded 9.8 presales are already hitting $60–$100, because collectors gonna collect.
And if you find a golden biscuit? Congrats—you’re not done yet. You’ll need to email a photo of the sticker, submit to a background check, and most importantly not be a convicted felon (seriously, that’s in the fine print). Welcome to the world of superhero sweepstakes—where redemption arcs don’t apply. Also, your odds of winning? A cool 1 in 62,500. You have a better chance of getting struck by lightning while holding a foil variant and listening to Hans Zimmer’s Superman theme.
Technically, this is a no-purchase-necessary sweepstakes. You can enter by emailing your name and phone number starting June 18 and get entered into the same odds pool. But you also have to subscribe to the DC Fan First newsletter, and let’s be honest: nobody’s entering that way unless they’ve already given up on the dream of holding a comic book in their hands. Most people will just buy the damn thing, flip it open, see “SORRY, NOT A WINNER,” and maybe toss it on a resale site for store credit.
But here’s the real game being played—Krypto. This whole campaign isn’t about Superman. It’s about making you fall in love with the superpowered dog. James Gunn is a master at turning D-list characters into merch-moving icons. He made a walking tree and a talking raccoon into household names. He turned Weasel—a naked cryptid with mange—into a fan favorite. You think he won’t go full Baby Yoda with a big-eyed CGI Krypto? Please. This sweepstakes isn’t selling Superman—it’s testing the water to see if audiences are going to show up for the dog instead of the guy in the cape.
And look at the big picture—this isn’t just about selling a few reprints. This is a pressure test for Gunn’s new DCU. The old one collapsed under the weight of convoluted timelines and studio interference. Now they’re relaunching everything, and Krypto might just be their Trojan Horse—or Trojan Dog—meant to sneak charm, humor, and cuddly mass appeal into a cinematic universe that’s struggled to connect with casual fans.
Meanwhile, somewhere in Hollywood, Dwayne Johnson is probably looking at this with tears in his eyes. He voiced Krypto in DC League of Super-Pets back in 2022, hoping it would launch a franchise. Instead, it got shrugged off like a forgotten chew toy. Three years later, DC quietly buries that version, reboots the whole idea, and turns Krypto into a gateway drug for Gen Alpha’s next plush obsession.
So yeah, there’s a golden ticket hunt happening. It’s cute. It’s clever. It’s sad. It’s all of those things at once. Because no matter how you spin it, when Superman needs a dog with a sticker to get people in comic shops, it tells you everything you need to know about how the most iconic superhero in the world is being handled in 2025. Not with awe, not with reverence, but with desperation wrapped in nostalgia, sealed in a polybag, and marked “first printing” for collectability.
June 18. That’s when the book hits comic shops. Maybe you’ll find the biscuit. Maybe you won’t. But at least you’ll own a solid reprint of a goofy, heartfelt story about a boy and his space dog—back when Superman didn’t need a sweepstakes to matter.
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