Please, everyone do not forget about that 2013 season — the worst to first, the tragedy of the Boston Marathon, everyone rallying around the city, the finish line, the duck boats, everything, celebrating at home. Might be down a little bit in the win-loss column right now, but do not let that erase any of those memories from last year that I get to wear a ring on my finger for. I’m proud to be a Red Sox for those times.
In a heartfelt tribute to the ordeal suffered by Brett Ewins during his arrest and subsequent incarceration last year,some of 2000AD’s greatest talents dedicated artwork based on Brett’s greatest creations and characters.
Bottom:Edmund Bagwell’s glorious ensemble cast of Brett’s greatest hits,including Bad Company’s Kano(of course!),Deadline’s Tank Girl,Walter the Wobot and his sardonic,futuristic hard-boiled private eye,Johnny Nemo
Fire Coming out of the Monkey's Head (Instrumental)
Once upon a time, at the foot of a great mountain There was a town where the people known as Happy Folk, lived Their very existence, a mystery to the rest of the world Obscured as it was by great clouds
Here they played out their peaceful lives Innocent of the litany of excess and violence that was growing in the world below To live in harmony with the spirit of the mountain called Monkey was enough.
Then one day, strange folk arrived in the town They came in camouflage, hidden behind dark glasses But no one noticed them They only saw shadows. You see, without the truth of the eyes, the Happy Folk were blind
Falling out of aeroplanes and hiding out in holes Waiting for the sunset to come, people going home Jump out from behind them and shoot them in the head Now everybody dancing the dance of the dead The dance of the dead, the dance of the dead
In time, the strange folk found their way into the higher reaches of the mountain And it was there that they found the caves of unimaginable sincerity and beauty
By chance, they stumbled upon the place where all good souls come to rest The strange folk, they coveted the jewels in these caves above all things
And soon they began to mine the mountain It’s rich seam fueling the chaos of their own world Meanwhile, down in the town, the Happy Folk slept restlessly Their dreams invaded by shadowy figures digging away at their souls
Every day, people would wake and stare at the mountain Why was it bringing darkness into their lives? And as the strange folk mined deeper and deeper into the mountain Holes began to appear, bringing with them a cold and bitter wind That chilled the very soul of the Monkey
For the first time, the happy folk felt fearful For they knew that soon the Monkey would stir from its deep sleep Then there came a sound, distant first, it grew into castrophany So immense that it could be heard far away in space
There were no screams, there was no time The mountain called Monkey had spoken It was only fire and then, nothing
Oh, little town in U.S.A., the time has come to see There’s nothing you believe you want But where were you when it all came down on me? Did you call me? No
In theory, being able to feel your soulmate’s pain should
technically be a good thing. You could
know if they happened to be in some sort of danger, and a big motivation not to
hurt them yourself. These minor issues
for most people were completely outweighed by the benefits. For example how skin to skin contact felt so
good, erasing other pain while you stayed in contact. In drastic cases messages could be passed,
and you could even potentially track down your mate. You see the closer you got to your soul-mate
the more sharply you felt their pain.
The really sensitive with practice could use something as minor as a
headache if their soulmate was close enough.
For Peter Parker, being able to feel his soulmate’s pain
seemed more of a burden. Whoever
happened to be on the other end of his link, got hurt, a lot. Not talking about stubbed toes or
hangnails. More like broken bones, knife
wounds and other severe damage. It had started with some excruciating pain one
day, and then after that, it became a regular occurrence. So much so his school knew to watch for it
and take precautions. On the bright
side his pain tolerance threshold steadily grew higher.
When he acquired the abilities that made him Spider-Man, his
gifts helped him cope with it even better.
His spidey-sense would go off right before a bad attack came in, giving
him the opportunity to brace for it. His
ability to power through them and handle most any pain grew. He could handle levels that would put anyone
else to their knees and just keep going.
The own injuries he occurred in his vigilante life, briefly he wondered
what his soulmate felt, thought.
Sometimes he wondered what kind of person his soulmate could be, if they
took this much damage on a consistent basis.
He wanted to find them, find out why, but he never had the resources,
and it never happened close enough to him, until today.
Out on patrol his senses buzzed in the way that warned him
to brace himself. That he more or less
expected on an irregular basis. What he
didn’t expect, and caused him to falter mid-swing, the sharpness of the pain
that dug into him. He made an awkward
grab and stick on the side of the building, catching his breath and bracing
himself. Usually it would never be just
one pain, but multiples. Sharp, so
sharp, his soulmate had to be close!
Finally, he could get to the bottom of the pain that haunted
him for so long. Focusing on the pain,
he pulled all of his focus and senses on trying to locate the source of
danger. He had some somewhat similar things
with looking for trouble spots before, but nothing like this. Spider-man let the flashes of pain come, and
then let go of the building, letting instinct guide him towards the source.