As if things weren’t bad enough, they have a big…adolescent. A giant…teenager. Hold on, it’ll come to me.
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296 comics.
That is a hell of a way to go out. One minute: you’re a 12 foot giant bent on appeasing a dark god of feasting. The next: you’re getting flattened by a giant divine frying pan. Life is strange sometimes.
I supposed hitting someone with a wooden pew was the equivalent of using a folding metal chair back in the day.