Comics Burn

I was fired last night. Allow me to explain.

Most of you know that I've been working part time at a comic book store. Until last night things had been going well. I'd been able to keep my vigilantism separate from my work.

But that all changed when one of my crappy "rogues" (and I use that term loosely) followed me to the shop after a patrol. I'm trying to remember the guy's name, but for the life of me I can't. I only fought him once for St. Dumas' sake. He wears a bowler hat and a gas mask. That ringing bells for anyone?

Anyway, I'd stored my costume in the back and was heading to the register when he crashed through the window, scattering a display of Legion of Super-Heroes action figures (the door was unlocked, of course, but we costume types don't roll that way).

His timing was was actually quite fortuitous, as two of the regulars were caught up in that tired "Hulk vs. Superman" drivel and I was about to punish them. They quickly scattered when Gas Mask arrived, though.

I made a dash for my costume and quickly retrieved my gauntlets. I knew what to do. I'd deal with the maniac the way I deal with everything: fire. I should have considered that comics are highly flammable.

Before I knew it a stack of unsold variant covers for Spider-Man: The Other had caught fire. As you can imagine, that started a sizable blaze. Realizing that things had gone a little too far, Gas Mask grabbed some limited edition Kingdom Come statues and got the heck out of there. Leaving me holding the ball, as it were.

Long story short, the shop burned down and the owner fired me. So once again I'm left without a source of income. And I've still got a houseguest.