“Part-time A/C repairman, Nick Webb rolls through the city’s underbelly, scratching it and making it belch.”

When I posted John Cox’s  Detective Frank Pound comic panel last month, I figured he might be branching out in a new direction. So when I saw this Nick Webb cover art, I at first thought he might be considering writing a pulp novel. But it occurs to me now that he’s simply demonstrating just how full his quiver of artistic skills really is. If I was developing a writing project right now, I’d be approaching John to illustrate it.  I might start out something like this:

“I polished off the last of the Old Crow, left the empty bottle on my desk and headed for Gilhooley’s Pub two floors below. Counting the last of the 43 stairs, I sensed movement in the shadows and turned just as the hulking figure lunged. The blow caught me off guard and my knees buckled. As he moved in again, I hit him low, bending him forward clutching his groin. A swift kick sent his teeth cascading like marbles falling on a sidewalk. I crushed his head like a soft cantaloupe and watched him drop to the floor like a bag of rotten potatoes. Probably one of Ficetti’s goons, I thought.

Wiping the trickle of blood from my swollen lower lip, I swung through the back door into Gilhooley’s. Dark and smoky, the familiar pungent smell of  cheap booze and cheap women filled my nostrils. I found a corner table away from the bar and motioned to Gilhooley for a bottle. Then I saw her…”

Yeah, I used to love Mickey Spillane’s Mike Hammer novels.