F. Scott Fitzgerald writes a yarn that as yet still only manages to stay on the fresh and raw side of chapter five. Any closer and the eyes break with a snap of the neck into another slumber. Keeping up the eyelids proves hard work. Timing of it all is off, as reading prose after reading comics is never quite a sane choice of reading in an afternoon.
Kitty and Peter work another date, only this time both in costume and with all the more banter and fun for it. A relaxing and strange affair, the villain from the skirts of Cleveland going nowhere fast and not really knowing it despite everyone else insisting on the fact. It's charm to know that even loser super crims have high hopes for their own back story. Even if they can't keep their story straight.
Finding fewer public street toilets without the blue UV lighting isn't much of a concern. Coming into the second half of a story with absolutely no recollection of the entire first half is. An affliction of which is not unlike suffering the ill effects of a body looking to shutdown. Mechanics and electronics is the game of Mayor Mitchell Hundred, not people, and the disarray is highly visible.
Parallel universes and time travel are hard enough to deal with on their own. At least while trying to juggle on one foot while balancing a yoyo on the other arm between stacks of twenty cent coins. Simultaneous meddling hardly makes things easier. Humour is all gone save for the spark and glimmer of what may in lines quick and off panel.
Soon Van - Monday, August 21, 2006 - 19:05
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