Feels like a dirty little something that scurried out of Garth Ennis’ Crossed-iverse, which I always figured was unfilmable. Do Si Spurriers’ run next pls.
I stumbled across this playing on public access once when I was about 10 years old. Boobs and blood beamed into the living room via good ‘ol rabbit ears. My father and I had been channel surfing before I had to leave for soccer practice, and we were both so invested in the outcome that he said “hey how about we skip soccer today and I order a pizza.”
A pleasant memory, so I’ve kind of avoided revisiting it to…