Not the comatose vegetable he at first
& for the most part appears to be; old
John Doe sneak out of ICU to go fight
crime... immediately encountering his
arch-nemesis, the Poker, yeh, that guy.

Moving on, but quickly realizing he
won't get w/o his tricked-out state-of-
the-art walker, Morphine-Man turns
dejectedly away from the burnt neon
glow of Senile City, the city he swore
to protect, when he sees beckoning
at the hospice door, a slender crooked  
figure wearing a ***** hat & head-to-
toe leather, smelled like it too, once
Morphine-Man comes close enough,
he sees that it wasn't burnished leather
at all, but the skanky bag lady's actual
skin...but before Morphine-Man can
call out for his trusty sidekick; dead
for many a decade or so, his mouth
is smothered in the alley cat woman's
sewer-like maw; despite passing out
from the near fatal heart-attack, Morphine-
Man is dragged like a giant feral rat
to the feline felon's funky basement lair ...

art