🚀 go-pugleaf

Cannon Fodder walked away dazedly from his meeting with Cheezar and Makkaroni.
He was quite befuddled.  They were letting anyone into this damn universe these
days.  He sauntered towards the netnews gate, seeing it crackle to life,
with an energy, a power unlike any he'd ever known before.  And he smelled a
smell.  The smell of tear stained back issues.  What was this?  Who could be
coming through the net?  Suddenly, Cannon Fodder saw them, a swarm of comics
smashing into him, crushing him to a helpless, pasty mulch.

Lost-Cause Boy stepped through the netgate, the energy fading around him as he
looked down at his pile of John Byrne Fantastic Fours piled atop what looked
like two arms and two legs.  Lost-Cause Boy (who in his daily disguise of
Douglas P. Wojtowicz, a regular ditcher of classes at the University of
Illinois at Chicago) gasped as he realized who had had just mashed to a pulp.

"I knew I should have thrown in my Mosaic collection first," he said.

Well, now that Lost Cause Boy had arrived, he bundled up his comics,
wondering what strange new adventures he would encounter, leaping to the
defense of non-vigilante Supermen and battling the horrendous forces of fanboy
dom.

Lost Cause Boy, invented by Douglas P. Wojtowicz.
(Yes, I am the Cloak and Dagger of comics, in real life.  In fact, I have
every appearance of Cloak and Dagger in my collection.  HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!)