Inner Marv

I'm in touch with my inner Marv.

"Hell's waking up every goddamn day and not even knowing why you're here."

Marv is a misunderstood person who lives outside the lines.

"Most people think Marv is crazy. He just had the rotten luck of being born in the wrong century. He'd be right at home on some ancient battlefield, swinging an axe into somebody's face. Or in a Roman arena taking a sword to other gladiators like him. They'd have tossed him girls like Nancy back then."

He's not polite, but at least he's real. Honest. Unafraid.

"Shoot me now, or get the hell out of my way."

And it doesn't matter to him if anybody else understands him or not because he's got a code and he sticks to it.

"It really gets my goat when guys rough up dames."

And in a world where nobody wants him, what is he doing? The right thing, as best he's able, every chance he gets. No matter what it costs him.

"Hell, I'll die laughing if I know I've done this one thing right."

Go get 'em Marv.

"Is that the best you can do, you pansies?"

(With thanks to Frank Miller)