By: Ryan Fisher

It’s mind boggling the amount of dirty secrets one can unearth when moving. Every foul thing I’ve purchased over the last couple of years, is finally getting a chance to leave it’s purgatory, to inflict shame and guilt on my life once more. One such item is well… Frankencastle. Honestly, I have no idea what I was thinking. The very premise is insulting. “Let’s kill off the one non-super-powered ass-kicker Marvel comics has and bring him back as… wait for it… a GOD DAMN ABOMINATION NAMED FRANKENCASTLE!!!” What’s worse is, I bought it. I bought it and I took the time to place it ever so gently in it’s plastic sleeve and cardboard backer, as to protect the book for future humiliation… I will never live it down, and I hate moving.