By Beau Smith

The cards, letters and emails just keep rollin’ in here at the Flying Fist Ranch. It seems that my Five Manly Questions With? has hit a nerve with not only my manly readers, but the creators in comic books as well. Lots of guys has been contactin’ me wonderin’ when they’re gonna get their turn in the cross hairs. The women wanna know when they get their turn sittin’ on my lap. I just smile and tell em’?

Your turn is comin’.

This week I spent time with a very good buddy of mine in comics?Jimmy Palmiotti. It’s been said that he is my alter ego north of the Mason/Dixon line. I’m sure he takes that as a compliment.

Before I relay what happened when I went to New York to see Jimmy, I’ll fill ya in a little on Jimmy’s police record? Uh? I mean his personal bio information.

Jimmy is a New York guy. A Brooklyn boy to be more exact. He’s an artist, a writer, an editor, a creative director and a guy that swings creativity like is was a Louisville Slugger at a melon bustin’ party.

Jimmy started out in comic books in the late 80s, there’s been no stoppin’ him since. He’s worked for every major publisher in comics. His hands have been in the pies of filmmaking, animation and TV. Thing is? he’s just getting’ started.

To quote Jimmy himself on his current and past crimes?”Well, I am a comic book creator, basically, a writer and artist. At times I am also an editor and a project manager. And even at times, owner of small businesses. I was born in Brooklyn N.Y, grew up there, and went to high school in Manhattan and college in Brooklyn then N.Y.C. Worked a number of years in advertising then decided to change careers and get into the comic book business. From there, co-owned a publishing company, started a line of comics for a major publisher and since then am now writing a number of comics and involved in some film projects as well.”

Like I said before?he’s just getting’ started.

There’s a website Jimmy calls home. It’s http://www.paperfilms.com. There you can get the full blown history and work record of this pasta eatin’ prince of one liners. You won’t be sorry if ya check it out? and ya should. I don’t put these web links here for my health or for the fact that I get a $10.00 kickback for every time ya do. Get over there and scope it out.

As I mentioned earlier, Jimmy is from New York. I don’t like New York. Never have. I’ve been there many times and I’m still not fond of it. Don’t get me wrong, it ain’t the people that I don’t like. Nope. There are some mighty fine folks there. They may talk with a funny accent, unlike me, but there are lots of great folks up there. New York City and the surrounding areas are a whole other world. Trains, subways, crummy gun laws, everything cost way too much money and it makes me nuts that every comic book writer feels that every comic book story needs to happen in New York. It ain’t right.

But to ask Jimmy his Five Manly Questions I felt it was only right to do it on his home turf. That way he would feel comfortable and not hold back when it came to spillin’ the truth. So I got in my truck and headed to Brooklyn.

I found out that the “Cow Catcher/Brush Guard” that I have on the front of my truck was very useful in shovin’ crummy New York drivers and cabbies out of my manly path. There’s somethin’ pretty amusin’ about hearin’ some cab driver with a towel wrapped around his head squealin’ and cussin’ in his native tongue as I shove his taxi into a dumpster at a high rate of speed.

It seemed that everyone I saw was saluting me with their middle finger as I monster trucked my way through their streets. They also kept yellin’ at me to have intercourse with myself. Like I didn’t know how that worked already.

After a little “friendly” conversation with some gang members (New York is filled with em’) I swayed em’ to give me correct directions to the part of town that Jimmy wanted me to meet him in. It’s amazin’ how a fistful of rolled quarters can make a street punk go from not knowin’ anything to bein’ a truth blabblin’ machine. Minus a few teeth of course. ‘Sides?they were playin’ that hip hop stuff too loud for my liking.

I finally made it to the bar where Jimmy told me to meet him. It was called Mustache Pete’s. Why was I not surprised?

I walk into the place and was hit with the smell of beer and three day old cannolis. There were Ragu Rangers all around playin’ pool, wearin’ “wife beaters”, wind suits and gold jewelry. Everybody’s hair glistened with some sorta hair ointment that could keep an oil and lube shop open for a year. It didn’t tax my beer soaked brain much to figure that every guy in there had a last name that ended with a vowel.

I walked up to the bar and asked the guy with the Fred Flintstone five o’clock shadow where I could find Jimmy Palmiotti. He grunted, looked at my ball cap with a crooked eye and then said, “I never heard of him”.

I knew he was lyin’. He didn’t look smart enough to keep track of the truth. I was getting’ ready to ask him again when a couple of large “Guidos” came up behind me. The smell of Hai Karate filled the air.

They informed me in their own subtle way that maybe I was in the wrong place and it would be healthy if I were to take my Dukes Of Hazzard ass back down the road. I was about an inch from havin’ my kneecap find out if they were wearin’ protective cups when a familiar voice came from the backroom.

“Tony, Frankie! Knock it off. He’s okay.” Said Jimmy in his Brooklyn born voice.

Frankie and Tony, the human meat walls, moved to the side and let me by. I saw Jimmy in the doorway of the backroom wavin’ me back. He was all smiles as he always is. Jimmy was styled out in one of his trademark bowling shirts and jeans. I went into the back room and there were a couple of tables, one bein’ a drawin’ table with all the equipment that an artist needs to do his craft. The other table has a checkerboard tablecloth and a large bottle of wine on it. Jimmy gave me a hearty slap on the back and yelled at one of his buddies to bring me a beer. He knows I don’t indulge in wine. That’s only for women and Yankees.

It was good to see Jimmy again. He and his main squeeze, Amanda Conner are two of the finest folks in comics. Both have hearts of gold and razor wits. Only difference is that Amanda is a whole lot better lookin’ and smellin’ than Jimmy.

We sat at the table and got caught up. We also made fun of Billy Tucci for a while and questioned his manhood for goin’ to a fashion school. Billy is always good for a few jabs now and then.

I saw that there were some red stains on the tablecoth. I asked Jimmy if that was blood. He smiled and shook his head no. Said that it was just spaghetti sauce stains from when Joe Jusko was in the other day. Seems that Joe likes to talk when he eats. I guess it gets messy.

Dean Martin played on the jukebox as I got out my pencil and paper to make record of Jimmy’s answers to my Five Manly Questions. It was always good to hear Dean sing “Sway” – one of my favorite songs by him.

As I finished off my second beer I asked Jimmy if he was ready. He smiled and said that he had been lookin’ forward to this for a while. Said that as of late all the interviews he had done were just the same ol’ tired questions. Said he was lookin’ forward to blowin’ off some steam.

As my third beer arrived I started firin’ off my questions.

Beau: What annoyin’ celebrity would ya like to smack in the head with a shovel or a heavy kitchen appliance?

Jimmy: Madonna, trying to be cool? for saying Israel was safer than New York. What a retarded thing to say. She is officially banned from coming back to New York ever again. Love her music, but the minute the music stops, she should shut up. To tell the truth, not many celebs really (Ashton Kutcher deserves to just go away), just the idiots that treat them like gods.

I want to get a full swing of a real manly shovel and hit everyone who reads magazines devoted to these screwed up people’s lives. I want to smack everyone that thinks a guy hitting a ball with a bat or making a 3-point throw are some kind of heroes. I want to smack anyone who thinks they deserve special treatment because they are some kind of entertainer? and last, I want to smack the president in the head for being a total Dick, ignoring the U.N., not letting the facts come in and then deal with the problem? and most of all smack him in the head because other people choose to change their minds from time to time.

Where I come from, people can change their minds… it shows that they may have learned something new and have to apply it. It’s called becoming educated. Nothing worse than a person who makes a decision? finds out it was the wrong one? and cannot admit they made a mistake and try to fix it. Mr. Bush? you screwed up. Admit it and fix the problem? or here comes my shovel.

Beau: Other than your ever lovely Amanda, name some of the sexiest babes on the planet.

Jimmy: Its all Amanda Conner, trust me… she is number one on all my lists? but? there they are, in no real order? Nastassia Kinski, Jennifer Tilly [who I met and there is no celeb more fun to hang out with], Salma Heyak, Monica Bellucci, Patricia Arquette, Milla Jovovich, Naomi Watts, and Juliette Lewis. Yeah, I know? weird tastes.

Beau: Name some manly movies that every real man should see if he wants to rev up his testosterone and ponder hurtin’ somebody that needs it.

[Jimmy smiled and got kinda animated as he raised his wine glass.]

Jimmy: Damn, fine question, Beau? Let’s see?

Predator: Go to an island with big guns, hunt aliens and make things blow up.

Where Eagles Dare: Clint kills Nazis. It’s cool.

Once Upon A Time In The West: Bronson at his coolest.

Shawshank Redemption: Multiple endings that all work.

Goodfellas: I live in Brooklyn and I lived through this movie.

John Carpenter’s The Thing: All male cast and no gayness happening. That’s manly

Scarface: Man, it always makes me want to shove my face in coke and shoot a missile launcher off my balcony

Die Hard 1,2,3, The Last Boy Scout, Unbreakable and any Bruce Willis movie where there is no kid in it.

And recent, Man On Fire? It kicks ass? really. The REAL Punisher.

Beau: Fight question: If you’re gonna take out somebody’s kneecaps what do you use?a ball bat or lead pipe?

Jimmy: Lead pipe. It doesn’t break, go on fire and is easier to hide in a jacket or coat. Really? a 9-inch pipe can hide up your sleeve for a close contact assault and then be tossed easily or cleaned and will sink in any liquid… a bat will hold DNA, hair and can be imbedded with skin. No good, folks.

Beau: Name your latest and upcoming manly work in comics and entertainment so my manly readers can steal the money from their mom’s purse to buy it. Name the publisher as well.

Jimmy: Ah, well, Hawkman is a manly monthly I co write with the most manly man on earth, Justin Gray? The Punisher Christmas Special is quite the manly book … the Conan one-shot I wrote as well? and as far as babes go? check out Manhunter and Catwoman monthly as well. Remember, it is very manly to be into the ladies.

“Yeah, Jimmy? You’re right about the ladies,” I said as I downed my fifth beer and wiped my mouth on the tablecloth.

It was around then that the beautiful and smart Amanda Conner sashayed into the room. I saw Jimmy’s eyes light up as the love of his life came in and kissed him on his stubbly cheek. I gave Amanda a big hug and told her it was good to smell her in a room again. She’s like a dozen of freshly cut roses and Jimmy is the thorn.

She reminded Jimmy that they had a party to go to. That sparked Jimmy’s memory and he looked at his watch to double check. I thanked my old amigo for the time and the beer. I told the lovebirds that I could find my own way out and that I hoped to see em’ on the convention trail later in the year.

I left the room with the two of em’ in a lip lock and made my way to the front door of the bar. Frankie and Tony were there playin’ some sorta Italian card game and doin’ their countin’ on their fingers. I nodded to em’ and made my way out into the Brooklyn night.

It was a nice ride back south. I had Delbert McClinton, Mark Selby and My Subdudes CD collections to keep me company as I drove south and headed for the mountains of West Virginia. It was good to see Jimmy and Amanda again. New York I could do without. It wasn’t until I got back to the ranch that I figured out why everybody in my hometown had been givin’ me that middle finger salute since I hit town. It seems that Frankie and Tony weren’t as dumb as they looked.

It seems those two meatballs has stuck an I Love N.Y. bumper sticker on the back of my truck.

I hate New York.

Before I leave ya for the week I thought I’d remind all of ya out there to have a very Happy Thanksgiving. I really mean it. I wanna let ya know that I am very thankful that all of ya take the time to read Busted Knuckles and support the comic books that I write. I thank ya for “getting” what Busted Knuckles is all about and the fun we try and have here.

Be thankful for your family and loved ones this week and all year round. Don’t forget to be thankful for comic books. They can get ya through the rough times.

Think of me when you’re throwin’ that turkey down your neck. I’ll be the guy wonderin’ what kinda beer the Pilgrims drank.

Get over to my manly website http://www.flyingfistranch.com and check out my new daily “Blog”. It’s manly and I tell ya all the stuff that ya need to know to get laid, stay outta jail and be a better man? the kind all the ladies love. I’ve also put up some new photos for ya to chuckle at.

I won’t be hard to find.

The Flying Fist Ranch
P.O. Box 706
Ceredo, WV. 25507
http://www.flyingfistranch.com


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About The Author

Beau Smith

Beau Smith is a writer for Comics Bulletin