Dream of: 03 March 1984 "Battle Over Comics"

I was in a car being driven by Buckner, traveling west on Second Street in Portsmouth. We were going to the last store on Second Street near the Scioto River Bridge to see about buying a Mad magazine. We stopped in front of the store and walked inside. We saw some Mad magazines there, but they were all too expensive at $4 apiece.

Buckner and I weren't getting along well. We stayed a few minutes and left. I was rather unhappy with Buckner. We drove back up Second Street and came to a store I had been in before that sold used Mad magazines. I said, "Lets stop there and go in. They have Mad magazines in there."

He said, "OK."

We stopped in front of the store and walked inside. It was a second hand store with many different things setting around for sale. I walked toward the back of the store and found a large stack of comic books. On the top of the stack were some old issues of "Fantastic Four." I picked some up. I saw "Fantastic Four" numbers four and five. Underneath were more Marvel comics. I said to Buckner, "Buckner, there's hundreds of dollars worth of comic books here."

I was referring to the fact that those particular issues were collectors items and worth a lot of money. Just as I picked up some more, another fellow (about 25 years old) walked into the room. He was a rather huffy character. He said he wanted to look at the comics I had. I said, "No, I'm going to buy these."

He reached in my direction and tried to take the comics from me. I jerked away and said, "No, these are mine. I'm going to buy them."

I walked toward the counter and began flipping through the stack of comics I had picked up. All the other comics were later issues and the only two really worth anything were the number four and five issues of Fantastic Four. So I stealthily slipped those to Buckner.

The guy followed me to the counter. He looked like such a rough character, I was surprised he knew anything about comics. It looked as if there was going to be trouble. He reminded me of someone in a motorcycle gang.

I put the comics down on the counter and told the person behind the counter that I wanted to buy them. The rough fellow walked up to me and said again he would like to see the comics. I said, "Go ahead."

He quickly looked through them and saw they were all later editions. Suddenly he reached out and grabbed the two comics away from Buckner which I had given Buckner. The fellow laid them on the stack. I said, "No, I'm going to buy these. I'm going to buy them."

He made some threatening gestures toward me. I said to the man behind the counter, "Call the police. Call the police."

It looked as if the man were going to call the police. But all my attention was directed back to the rough fellow. He turned to me and pulled what appeared to be a little gun out of his back pocket.

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