The Mask of the Red Death

I died in that ring. In moments I will live in it again.

My enemies conspired against me as they sought my destruction. My person was stolen from me. My face, my being, was ripped away from me. This is what remains: pain, suffering, anger.

I will show all these things. I will vent my anger on my opponents to make them suffer. My pain will be transferred to them. They have no understanding of what they’ve unleashed. They will know that which I have lost: fear.

I am El Muerte Rojo. I am destruction and doom. I am the devastator of hope.

My music hits. It is finally time for all to see what I have become.

I don't miss this often when I'm sick

For various reasons, I haven't been to the comic book store since May 21st. I have not gotten new comics in three weeks.

I don't miss it like I thought I would. Weird.

Just a thought

You're only as good as your last failure. In a pinch, your successes will be hard for others to recall but your failures will spring readily to mind.