Por la noche los acontecimientos cambiaron a mejor, desencadenando lo que puede llegar a convertirse en el cómic definitivo, Pable et Marce en la Gran Ciudad. Pero remontémonos a los verdaderos orígenes. A comienzos de este año, un par de chicos con gran talento plasman sus deseos de autorrealización en un sueño de papel, El cómic urbano, unas servilletas con grasa de patatas fritas y huellas de cervezas incluidas. Prácticamente ayer se recupera aquella mítica idea… ¿No os recuerdo al empalagoso de Stan Lee? Excelsior! y una mierda. Creamos un logotipo para mandar en las cartas a nuestros amigos y de ahí surge, o mejor, se retoma la gran idea: Hagamos un cómic sobre nuestras andanzas reales por Barcelona. Aquí comienza todo.

^[1] I got so enmeshed in it [The Invisibles] that I was producing holographic voodoo effects and found that I could make stuff happen just by writing about it. At the conclusion of volume one, I put the King Mob character in a situation where he was being tortured and he gets told that his face is being eaten away by bacteria and within a few months my own face was being eaten away by infection. I still have the scar. It’s a pretty cool scar to but at the time it was really distressing. Then I had the character dying and within a few months, there I was dying in the hospital of blood poisoning and staph aureus infection. As I lay dying, I wrote my character out of trouble and somehow survived. I used the text as medicine to get myself out of trouble. Writing became a way of keeping myself alive.

As soon as I was out of hospital I made sure my character had a good time and got a laid a lot and within months I was having the time of my life. >