Now buying domain space

"What's up Gabe?"
"Mason, what's going on?"
"Hey I got something for you."
Last week I let one of my friends that works across from the Majestic Bay at the Subway borrow a TPB of one of the latest Ghost Rider mini-series. Frankly, I think if the whole thing just came out as a one-shot, it'd be a helluva lot more impressive. But the included covers are ridiculously cool.
"Yeah? Clay leave the comic?"
"Hold on it's in the back." He returns. "Here. ...and according to the note I'm supposed to call you Wagnarock."
"Fuckin' damn right you should. But did he spell it right?"
"R-O-K?"
One of the other sandwich artists looks up and says, "You don't know how to spell Ragnarok?"
"No, cause I don't know what it is."
The other guy, "You don't know what Ragnarok is? It's the end of the world!!" Jubilant in his jargon over his companion artist.
"I only know how it's spelled by the way my cousin spells Wagnarok," Mason complains.
What.
"You have a cousin that goes by Wagnarok?"
"Yeah. His name is (name deleted). Big tall Nordic guy."
Blank stare. Eyes like icicles ready to telekinetically kill. Relaxed.
"Tell your cousin he should stop going by that name. It's mine. I came up with it first."
Big fucking fat lie. Haskell said if I ever started up a one man guitar band, I should call it Wagnarok. I just added the C to make it more phonetically appealing.
And then adapted it. Then started throwing it up on high scores on Megatouch. Then I started rapping again. But I never picked up a guitar since.
Mason laughed. We talked about Ghost Rider and where the fuck Clay is and who he's trying to do or maybe he's just rocking out to Guitar Hero in his tighty whities. Who knew. I just ate my roast beef sandwich and read Suttree and went to work.