KnightMask, having filled up his plate with slabs of steak, ham and grilled chicken and sat down to join his comrades, the Japanese-Canadian high-flier World 1-International and his coach, the powerful former champion wrestler and ex-vigilante, M. Ike Hagar. Honest dieters shunned the Genghis Khan Buffet, amongst whose murkily lit halls only the most rugged of eaters dared to sit and grimly dispose of plate after meat-filled plate. Only meat was served at the buffet, sometimes half-cooked, sometimes not cooked at all.

KnightMask and his companions ate in silence, as all serious veterans of the buffet do. Solemnly, they emptied plate after plate into their stomachs, eager to accept the protein into the worn muscles of their powerful, steel-corded bodies. Every movement, every twitch alluded to the latent explosive potentiality that existed within the frames of the men. None dared interrupt their meal and none dared join them, lest they fall, gorged unto near death, after a mere third plate and be forever disgraced in the halls of Genghis Khan Buffet.

And yet, at a table across from them, a great-bellied man with greasy brown hair stood shouting and bragging before a table of roguish-looking men and women, who hung on his words with rapt awe, "I'll show you, I'll show you all!"

With some curiosity, KnightMask, whose mask was pulled up just past his mouth, so as to allow him to eat from it, looked up slightly from his meal to hear the man's boast.

"Why, of all the thieves in East Lansing, only I had the wits to get and out from the fabled Eyde Tower..."

Hagar looked up at him.

"Let it go, KnightMask...that fatso probably doesn't know what he's talking about..."

However, the masked wrestler had already left off from the table, to confront the swaggering rogue about his words.

"Eyde Tower. Men say it is impregnable. Why...?"

The fat lout looked on at KnightMask, his mouth agape.

"Eyde Tower...? No man can get into Eyde Tower without security clearance you masked fool...they're security guards are armed to the teeth...they're the best trained men in the country...not to mention the sides of the tower are so steep not even a Cimmerian could scale it...the only way to get in there is to buy the guards...or the owners...off with vintage comic-books... mostly, stuff from the Lee-Ditko era of Spiderman..."

Suddenly, beneath his red vizor, KnightMask saw the flames of battle fury rise and dance before his eyes.

"For example, I was able through my sources to recently acquire Amazing Spiderman 33 as a means of bribing the guards...apparently, it was found in the duffel bag of some fool professional wrestler who'd gathered the ancient manuscript to hand over as some sort of present to one of his fellow wrestlers...the fool!"

KnightMask suddenly became berserk. Leaving his meal, his comrades and the boasting fool behind him, he bounded out from the Ghengis Khan Buffet, threw open the door to his ancient Trans-Am and took off towards the fabled Eyde Tower. As if sensing his iron-clad determination to regain his property at any cost, the dragons that guarded the tower suddenly flew down from their perch, sheets of flame licking out from their scaly mouths. Grimly choosing to meet the guardians of the tower with his on two fists rather than from behind the cover of his car, KnightMask got out from the car and charged at the dragons. Flame enveloped him, but still he charged on. Finally, he trudged within range and blasted the serpents from the sky with an optic blast from his vizor, which ricocheted off one dragon and into another.

Pulling out a claymore sword from the sheath that hung from his back, he summarily sliced through the guardsmen that ran to stop him as he came closer and closer to the tower...and to regain ASM 33...The Final Chapter. And suddenly, there was Benjamin Crane. He held the book in his hands! Something was odd about his face...it was painted white...and he seemed to be wearing lipstick...

Benjamin Crane: Did you want this, KnightMask....?

Crane ripped the book to shreds, before KnightMask could reach him. Suddenly, he woke to find himself in the middle of the ring at Slam Master's gym.

Hagar: There it is, there it is...that Wilkins guy you brought up here caught you in one heckuva triangle choke...and you went out like a light...gotta be careful, kid...tappin' in practice ain't no...

KnightMask: Hang on coach...I just have to check one thing...

Still woozy from the choke that he was begin to vaguely recall, he rolled from the ring and ran drunkenly to his duffel bag, rifling through it desperately until he found The Amazing Spiderman 33 amid its contents.

KnightMask: Alright. Alright. Its safe.

It was going to be hard to give the comic up, but he knew that its message was far better suited to a warrior of the ring than Moore's naval gazing nihilism. Besides, if someone thought that O'Neil era Batman or Lee-Ditko era Spiderman was all a bed of roses for the heroes, then he maybe it was his duty as a comic-fan to show them just what that era was made of.

There was never a happy ending for Peter Parker or Bruce Wayne in those days. There was no easy way out for Batman, whose every victory against Ras Al Ghul would bring him further apart from the one woman he could ever love. And likewise for Peter Parker, whose personal life was sometimes even rougher than his life as the famed Wall Crawler. And yet, rather than simply gazing into the abyss and delving into narcissistic, indulgent self-reflection about the profundities of their conditions, each man clawed their way out of the abyss as best they could.

Through Hell and high water. With Fear and Trembling.

The naval gazing was fine for a guy who might never have to dig deep. But for warriors like himself and Crane, that just didn't cut it.