Joe, move the spotlight to the right. To the right, Joe. We're missing all the hobo clown on thug action.

Hi, I’m Todd McFarlane*.

Stories of the darker side of human nature have long fascinated us. They are a dirty mirror into our subconscious, casting light onto parts of us that were previously in shadow. Blah blah blah I’m trying to make my comic really deep but it’s about a guy named Al Simmons who dresses like a goth circus and smells like garbage and slaughters people in alleys when he’s not sitting on top of buildings or stalking his ex-wife—his ex-wife who he’s sworn to protect by following around and getting into really dangerous fights nearby. Maybe she’d be safer and happier if she didn’t have her undead ex-husband lurking around and throwing gigantic blasts of snot energy all over the place while people shot at him with laser cannons.

Chicks, right?

First they’re all into you and then they marry you. Then you do something pretty inconsequential like get horrifically murdered with a flamethrower, and the next thing you know, them fickle ladies is gone! And get this! When you wake up as a shambling corpse that’s not even your body, sporting a thirty-foot long cape and magical powers from hell, she’s gone and married your best friend! And you know they did it at least once, ’cause now she has a baby! Whaaat?

Forced to deal with the reality of a world that has moved on without him, Al Simmons AKA Spawn AKA Homeless Al the Stink Machine must walk around and kick people. Some people shoot at him from windows, so he kicks them. Other people try to hit him with a metal pipe, so he kicks them too. Spawn has a variety of other powers at his disposal, but the path of least resistance is to walk straight forward and fight everyone you meet, just like me, Todd McFarlane**. Would you like to buy some baseball memorabilia?

Spawn reminds us all of the fragility of life and human relationships. One minute you’re being lovingly regarded by your wonderful wife, the next you’re sifting through trash in an alleyway looking for a hobo’s thumb so you can plug a leak in your giant spiked red boots. Speaking as Todd McFarlane***, this is a situation I know I’ve found myself in way too many times. Someday I’ll tell you about my inspiration for the Violator.

* I’m not Todd McFarlane.
** Totally not Todd McFarlane.
*** One more time, I’m not actually Todd McFarlane, but I feel this…connection? to the guy. Like I have to protect him by following him around and watching out for dangerous people who might harm him; dangerous people like the kind I attract all the time, which probably puts him in more danger than if I’d just left him alone. But, it’s like, we’re meant to be together, right? Todd McFarlane and me are like this. I’m typing with two of my fingers crossed now. We’re so tight it makes it hard to type. Todd, why aren’t you answering your phone?

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