Embarrassing story, true. When I was a kid, I was into Minnie Mouse, like really into her, until someone pointed out that if you take away the lashes, bow, and dress, she is actually Mickey Mouse, and ultimately a mouse. The harsh truth made me puke for three straight days. I still puke a little just thinking about it.
Minnie Mouse was done, as in she was absolutely fed up with this shit, all this shit. It is fortunate that she was unarmed, otherwise, she’d be surrounded by freshly shot corpses.
Her eyes were bloodshot. The thick veins obscured her pupils. You would think this is why she avoided sunlight, but the real reason was, it made her look eight to nine years older. She was fully conscious of how her flaring nostrils revealed a murder of crows’ feet around her eyes. Vanity has its price.
In recognition of National Batman Day celebrated every year on the third day of September, Sungmokoo.com would like to pay homage to the introductions Batman would give before a story in reprint comics, so you, the reader could be woke.
“When is a key not a key?” asked The Lame Riddler. “When it’s an aircraft path marker.” answered The Lame Riddler. He hated answering his own riddles.
It was 1997. The city of Metropolis was under great duress. Brainiac had unleashed a deadly virus turning everything in its path to seaweed. To make things worse, Superman was missing.
The rarely seen Marlboro Man® when he was a girl.
It was 1974. The Marlboro Man® knew only two things. He had lung cancer and he was going to die alone. He only cared about the latter. He coughed up a gob of black mucous, presumably with pieces of his lungs, into his hand. He looked at it curiously before casually wiping it on the back pocket of his jeans.