There's this little joint downtown that's had its fair share of visitors over the years. It's not very glamorous, but it seems to keep people going. Even give them hope sometimes. But there's a new crowd rushing the place. The joint's become hotter than a metal slide in Summer in West Texas. The place? The Bankruptcy Bar & Grill.

Night falls adding another layer of darkness to this grim, slimy town as I enter the BB&G. I see Trump's private table in the corner sporting a reserved sign. I guess it pays to always be prepared. Pictures of past regulars prominently decorate the wall. Mark Twain, P.T. Barnum, Frank Baum, Jerry Lee Lewis, and Marvel Enterprises. As for the current regulars, they're pretty scarce at the moment. It's early. Not many patrons to fill up the stools yet, but one of the newer souls here takes advantage of the quiet to let his voice be heard as what little crowd in the dive gathers around him.

"I swear it feels like I spent most of last year in court. It's like someone slapped a 'Sue me' sign on my back."

Good ol' Todd. Last year was a heckuva year for him. He was kicked so many times by the courts I'm surprised he doesn't have gavel bruises all over his backside. But he's still holding on. McFarlane's a tough cookie. It just wasn't his year. Looks like the BB&G is a good place to help him keep his spirits up. He'll get through this. He just needs a little time to reorganize his obligations, and he'll be fine.

I take a stool as much out of earshot of Todd as I can. The barkeep's quick with my Amaretto Sour. Word about me must be spreading through the bars in this part of town. I may sit and watch people for hours on end, but I'm a good tipper. I'm a really good tipper. It guarantees great service... and when needed, answers. As the cool liquid hits my lips, a couple more people stroll into the BB&G, and the bartender notices them right away.

"Hey, you two! I'm tired of telling you this bar's only for specific clientele. And you're not it. Beat it already!"

They hang their heads as they meander back out into the unforgiving night.

"The Lee brothers," says the bartender. I give him a small nod. He knows I want to hear more. "They were one of the ones to get the whole 80s comic revival rolling. Licensed a Hasbro property and had sales that went to the top of the charts. Things got rough, and they opted to close up shop rather than wade through all the financial mess. Things could just be different in the Canadian legal system. But I know--"

A rowdy group bursts through the door to the bar. They head straight over to the arcade games in the corner. Figures. I recognize this crew from Acclaim Entertainment. A video game company that published the occassional comic book. Couldn't renew a loan with their finance company and weren't able to get someone to front them a cool sixty-five million to keep the show rolling. Seems like you could just start a new company from the ground up with that kinda scratch.

The bar starts to fill up, and some of the newer folks seem to be getting attention. There's Alessi from CrossGen taking a shot at karaoke. He's definitely giving his own voice to the Beverly Hillbillies theme song. He seems pretty chipper considering he had to watch his company circle the drain for so long. There was a lot of potential there, and it was a good effort by all. And there's still a little hope for something to come of all that work. He'll just have to wait and see.

I feel a chill skip down my spine as the door opens again. In steps an energetic, vibrant man, but there's something eerily familiar about him. He seems to be getting a lot of warm greetings from people here. Even Alessi manages to look up from the karaoke machine long enough to acknowledge him. I just can't place that face. The barkeep recognizes my strained look and leans in to help. "Pullido. The Chaos! Comics guy."

That explains the chills.

I decide to just sit back and watch these comic book people for a while. Though life's kicked them around--and in some cases quite a lot--they still have the BB&G. It gives them a chance to get things in order, and allows their business ventures to either finally rest in peace or get ready for another shot. I think I've seen all I need to here. I finish up my drink and slide the bartender a few bills. More than enough to cover my tab and then some.

As I step out into the crisp night air, I run into the gang from MVCreations. They're peeking in the window to the BB&G, and you can see the conflict in them. Not sure whether to hop inside or not. I can't say one way or the other. They're doing what they can to keep going and pull themselves out of a hole. I wish 'em luck. Not everyone needs a place like the BB&G and not everyone should visit this kinda dive. But it's there, and it's an option when the hole keeps getting deeper and deeper with no end in sight.

I strut off into the night with a new perspective on all this. I think I'll swing by this other place I know and make an investment or two that might just keep me out of the BB&G for good. Come on lucky lottery ticket!