It has been a while. Hooooey! has it been a while! Here is a picture inked by the immutable Richard Tuggz and colored by the uncrustable Scott Rideout. A picture made to be a poster, but due to dumb un-luck the poster was not used for anything. Does a person make their own luck? Take the case of George Hersey, a gambler and a lover, lucky in both, but killed by a paper cut gone septic. Now take the case of Linda Loverhein, a hard-working, self-educated altruist living life under the lead net of poverty, also killed by a paper cut gone septic. Is it all the same in the end? In the split second before a stupid accident ends a life, does the victim think about luck? Does the spectator immediately dwell on the subject?
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