{"id":3576,"date":"2010-10-20T09:30:15","date_gmt":"2010-10-20T09:30:15","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.alertnerd.com\/?p=3576"},"modified":"2010-10-27T15:14:04","modified_gmt":"2010-10-27T15:14:04","slug":"retcon-punch-episode-03-babys-in-black","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/www.alertnerd.com\/?p=3576","title":{"rendered":"Retcon Punch, Episode 03: Baby’s In Black"},"content":{"rendered":"

New to Retcon Punch? Start at the beginning.<\/a><\/p>\n

We close at 8 on Wednesdays, but it\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s inevitably 8:30 before we get the last customer out the door. Fortunately, it\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s the more sane and hospitable customers who tend to show up late in the day, as they are the ones who have day jobs and can\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t run out at 11 a.m. in the middle of the week to buy funnybooks. So there\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s almost a small glow between Tara and I as the weekly Day Of New Comics comes to a close; even though I still have a bit of back issue inventory to process before I can go home, I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m not in the worst mood. I shut off the lights in the front and work by the dim glow of a TV playing a VHS tape of some old Captain America cartoons. <\/p>\n

A few minutes after Tara heads home, the phone rings.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Mr. Eisenhower?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Speaking.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153This is Visa calling.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

FUCK. How did they get my work number? Why didn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t I check caller ID?<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Hi, Visa.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Um\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6hi.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d The lame joke throws her off her game, but just for a second. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Mr. Eisenhower, we\u00e2\u20ac\u2122re showing that your current payment is overdue by a few days. I just wanted to make sure everything is okay?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

\"Retcon<\/a><\/p>\n

Yeah, everything\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s okay, except that I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m absolutely penniless right now. That\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ll happen when you regularly deduct hundreds of dollars from your own paycheck to purchase comic books, toys, and DVDs. <\/p>\n

In fact, as Visa is telling me about their convenient payment plans, I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m looking at the stack of twenty or so comics I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ve squirreled into a pile next to the register over the course of the day. My face is flushing red as I remember that I still have to buy a plane ticket for my mom\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s birthday next month, and pay the plumber for that emergency visit he made three weeks ago, and get caught up on my student loans.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Mr. Eisenhower, I can process a payment for you right now if you like.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Uh&KRRRK&you\u00e2\u20ac\u2122re breaking up&KRRIRRRK&I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m on&KKKRR&tunnel&KRIRIRRIK&tomorrow&\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

I hang up the phone, amazed that trick still works. At least, it works to end phone calls with Visa people; it does absolutely nothing for my credit rating. In fact, I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m pretty sure it makes things worse. <\/p>\n

As the phone hits the receiver, I hear a banging on the back door. Not a \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Hey, let me in\u00e2\u20ac\u009d type banging. More of a \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Hey, let me jimmy this crowbar into the doorjamb here so I can pry this fucker open\u00e2\u20ac\u009d banging. I know this from watching too many episodes of The Rockford Files. <\/p>\n

The banging intensifies as I quietly flip off the TV. I crouch like a cat burglar in a cartoon, and I walk slowly toward the closed door into the back room. A louder bang indicates that the mystery invader has made their way through the store\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s back entrance. Beneath the shut door appears the sickly yellow glow of the back room\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s ancient fluorescent lights.<\/p>\n

I make the dumbest of many dumb choices presented to me by my dimwit brain; I slowly creak the door open. <\/p>\n

Then the loose doorknob snaps off in my hand, and the door is splayed open, and I teeter on my legs, almost falling on my ass. Standing before me is Sid\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s latest fling, a black hoodie ineffectually laced tight around her chin. She looks like she\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s going to bolt, but she doesn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t; she sits down in the nearest folding chair. <\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Fuck me,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d she says.<\/p>\n

A few moments pass.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m not sure what\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s supposed to happen next here,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d I admit.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Do you have any alcohol?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153I keep beer in the minifridge.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ll take two.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

I twist the caps off two Miller Lites and set them on the table. She theatrically winces as she looks at the label, then she shotguns the first one. Twenty seconds easy, if that. The second one she nurses.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Do\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6do you need a key? I can ask Sid to\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Dude, where do you park?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Park\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6my car?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153I didn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t see anyone in the lot. Lights looked out. I thought I was clear.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153On Wednesdays, I park across the street. It gets busy.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153I saw. You were hopping today.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Yeah.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153You put up a fake comic for the one I took.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Uh\u00e2\u20ac\u201dyeah. Yeah.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153So you caught me. What are you going to do?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

This is unusual.<\/p>\n

This whole time, she\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s been sitting in essentially the same position, slurping beer in an uncomfortably loud way, breathing heavily from the exertion of beating the door down. Her legs are akimbo, if that\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s the right word; she\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s leaning back and alternately staring at the ceiling and staring at me.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153What should I do? Tattle on my boss\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 girlfriend?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153I guess not.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

I take the seat across from her; I push aside a small stack of old Wizard<\/em> magazines so I can put my elbow down and rest my head on my hand. <\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Sid\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s an asshole, isn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t he,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d she says.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153He\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s my boss, so\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153He\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s an asshole. I know it. I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m gonna take care of that, but first\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

Now she sits up and puts her head down on her arms onto the table, like a kid in school taking a nap on her desk. She looks up at me. Her eyes are brown.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153I owe my ex-boyfriend twenty thousand dollars.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Wow. Well, he\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s your ex, but I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m sure you can work something out, right?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153He\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s a loan shark. He\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ll break me.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Oh.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ve got a buyer for this shit; I just need the Batman thing in the safe.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Batman thing?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Sid says he has some old Batman comic in that safe over there.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ve worked at Superb Comics for ten years; I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ve spent more time in this place than most of the cockroaches. I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ve never heard about an \u00e2\u20ac\u0153old Batman comic\u00e2\u20ac\u009d in the safe\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6except that one time a couple years back, when I was working late to prep for Free Comic Book Day, and Sid came over on his way to a show, and he was drunk, and he started bragging about all the cool old shit he bought with his dumb pop ska money, and how he had \u00e2\u20ac\u0153one special thing, brah, for a rainy day. I keep the Caped Crusader in the safe.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d He had repeated that last line about fifteen hundred times before he left. <\/p>\n

The safe in question had been in the building for at least thirty years. The old guy who owned the nail salon next door said there used to be a credit union in the space. It\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s not a great safe, one of those old monstrous things. <\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153What were you going to use to get into the safe tonight?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d I ask. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Your charm and good looks?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

She does this cockeyed grin for a second and in spite of myself my guts get a little melty. But just a little. She\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s Sid\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s girlfriend, so she\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s lame enough to date Sid, and she just broke into my place of business to ostensibly pry open a safe with a crow bar and a black hoodie. I quickly freeze my guts up again.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153I was hoping to scope it out.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Wait, how did you get in here to steal the Fantastic Four comic if you needed a crowbar to get the door open tonight?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153That weird mom lady forgot to lock the door yesterday, dude.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

Fucking Tara.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153I think you\u00e2\u20ac\u2122re going to need a blowtorch to get through that thing, and probably a few hours in the clear, so someone decent to work lookout\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Wow, you\u00e2\u20ac\u2122re kinda good at this. I suck at it. I just got caught.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ve seen too many heist flicks. This is easy.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153You want in?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

My head starts racing; I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ve never been offered the opportunity to participate in a crime before. I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ve never even committed a crime before. Of course, I think about the almost-too-convenient call from Visa of a few moments ago, and realize that if we split the profits from a Fantastic Four<\/em> 1 and a Batman<\/em> 1, we could both handily pay off our debts and have a bit more left over for whatever. It might be months or years before Sid realized they were missing. I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d have to quit this place but I hate Sid anyway so that might not be such a bad idea?<\/p>\n

She is giving me this look. It\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s like evil bemusement. I don\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t know how to describe it; I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m doing a shitty job. <\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ll think about it.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m Veronica,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d she says. She finishes her beer with one gulp.<\/p>\n

Next week: Strategery!<\/a><\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

New to Retcon Punch? Start at the beginning. We close at 8 on Wednesdays, but it\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s inevitably 8:30 before we get the last customer out the door. Fortunately, it\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s the more sane and hospitable customers who tend to show up late in the day, as they are the ones who have day jobs and can\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[402,401],"class_list":["post-3576","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized","tag-fiction","tag-retcon-punch"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.alertnerd.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3576","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.alertnerd.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.alertnerd.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.alertnerd.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.alertnerd.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=3576"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"http:\/\/www.alertnerd.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3576\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.alertnerd.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=3576"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.alertnerd.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=3576"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.alertnerd.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=3576"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}