Marc hadn’t been to weekday morning services in days. Yesterday, he sat through them. He wondered whether the religious scriptures were the first comic book? He read the different pages and wondered if Stan Lee looked to these for his influences. He figured when the scriptures were written how stoned the writers were.
Let’s face it if today someone said a serpent told me to eat the forbidden fruit, they’d be placed in Bellevue. Perhaps in those times, they didn’t have mental hospitals and psych evals. The times were more primitive. Marc dreamed on during services about the truth of anything.
He figured the stories were passed down through the years and like when someone wakes up from a drunken night they remember things differently than what happened. Plus, the substances they ingested changed their thoughts and vision. Marc still wanted to believe. However, he needed real proof. That is his problem. He’s a researcher. No stone goes unturned
Meanwhile, Jay was seated in the back of the squad car. He was being taken to a maximum-security prison. He was jittery. But was hatching a plan. He has done this before. He knew it was a matter of time before he pulled a fast one. His hands were cuffed. That will slow him down. But that isn’t a problem. The car drove along.
Jay knew it was time. He started aiming glass through the barricade at the driver. Glass shot out of his eyes and nose. He hit the driver in the neck. The glass sliced through his skin. The car started to swerve. The cop in the passenger seat tried to grab the wheel. As he did, Jay fired glass at his eyes. Direct hit. The car was moving in a such way that it’d be pulled over for DWI. As the car shimmied, Jay rolled over to the back driver’s side door and kicked the lock open. His foot opened the door and he rolled out. The car flew into a tree. There were two police vehicles behind it. They slammed on their brakes and came to a shortstop. Jay still cuffed shot glass at the tires of the cars. Those cars barreled into each other. Jay managed to get glass into the locks of the cuff. They snapped right off. He ran.
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