“Jon ignored it for a while, focusing his attention on the late movie he was watching—the original 1933 King Kong. But the banging was insistent and finally, reluctantly, Jon pulled away from the TV and headed downstairs to see what inconsiderate S.O.B. had the crazy idea something was important enough to go around bothering people in the middle of King Kong. Better be pretty damn earth-shaking, Jon thought, pisses me off, and yanked open the door and saw a heavy-set man leaning against the side... of the building, his shirt and hands covered with blood. The guy had blood on his face, too, and looked at Jon and rasped, “Who . . . who the hell are you?” Which took the words right out of Jon’s mouth. Up until then, it had been a normal day. He’d risen around noon, showered, got dressed, thrown some juice down, and gone out front to the box to see if he’d gotten any comic books in the mail. Jon was a comics freak, a dedicated collector of comic art in all its forms, and did a lot of mail-order buying and trading with other buffs around the country.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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