<< prev ... the duo / volume 1c / the comic store ... next >>

The Comic Store You can clearly see that Bud (the bald one) looks uptight. He always seems to be this way. Nick (behind him) looks much more like my type of guy. It was hot. I was tired. I had visited 22 comic stores in the span of 2 days. Thank the Universe that after the "Big Nothing the Captain I'm Angry" gave me, I intuitively knew the comic store was the place to continue my search because these places are often the only real place where superheroes in training can go to hold chat with their brethren. Like nightclubs are to gay men. But that's another story. So after two days of dealing with the heat, Mark David's bodily odors and more than a few doors being slammed in my face - accompanied by quite a bit of "you need psychological help" attitude to boot - I finally found the right place: the owners both knew the "Terrific Two". Of course, what many of my followers, Crystaleers if you will, may not know is how large a role psychology plays in my job. I'm constantly having to counsel and help the people I am interviewing. You know, intuition. I had the opportunity to use this super-human gift when - you must obey us right this second, Crystal. Move away from the keyboard. You have more important work to do - I interviewed the two brothers who own the comic bookstore that the "Terrific Two" frequent. Bud makes yet another point. Mr. Bald Head (Bud Schempp) brother obviously has anger issues of his own and it could take a team of healers working overtime to try and levitate that chip off his shoulder.But Nick Schempp, he's a true believer. He understands the purpose. He's even met the guy I taught to walk backwards so that time wouldn't catch up with him. I was almost attracted to Nick but the space between his eyes and forehead is not equidistant between that of his eyes and chin. That's important to me, both spiritually and otherwise. But the conflicts of their relationship reminded me of the time on "Don't Ghost There" when my subjects, Margaret and Frank Chapolis, were fighting - even though he had already passed on. As usual, I acted as intermediary. I asked Margaret, "M," - yes, I get so in-depth with my subjects that I sometimes call them only by the first letter of their names - "M", what would you most like to tell Frank?" She responded: "That the cockpuking sonofabitch owes me big, big, BIG for the fucking house payments." "Now, Margaret, language, language," said I. She did have a mild form of Tourettes Syndrome, now that I recall. She continued" "Fine. But tell him about the house payments and tell him to put the toilet seat down and to get some Gas-X for his fucking terminal problems with gas." I asked: "Frank, what would you like from Margaret?" He said: "For her to let me feel her up in the middle of the night even if she can't see me. She is still my wife! It's my turn!" Turns out that being from the Midwest, Frank had suffered from sexual repression all his life and now thought that since no one can see him - except for me, but that's a story for another time - that he could finally act on his more primal desires. I offered a compromise: one Gas-X for every feel Frank could invisibly cop. Seems to be working well, even now. But still no settlement on the house payments. So I did the same thing for Nick and Grumpy Dwarf. I'm thinking about doing some part-time work in psychology - perhaps as a way to raise funds for my next project. That lovely Nick did tell me about Marcie, who knows the Billy Robbins - aka Buddy Boy - first hand. Let's away.   This is where I first saw Nick . . . behind the counter of his comic book store.         Also see... Don't Ghost There "A seal between the living and the dead had been broken..."   ...

<< prev back to the top next >> ...