The last surreal act before departure was the hotel concierge handing me a roll of masking tape and requesting I tape off the windows in my room - and wishing me luck. Overnight, Manhattan Island (and apparently the entire hotel staff) evacuated the city. During the course of the next, mad few weeks, a hurricane churned up the eastern seaboard and seemed determined to drive straight into New York harbor for dramatic effect. Inker Joe Rubinstein was shanghaied into our merry band of misfits to help speed up the work. I holed up in my hotel room and drew like crazy, night and day, sitting on the floor hunched over a small coffee table serving as my drafting table Bob often sitting a few feet away scripting or inking. We put it together under the guiding hand of Mike Carlin and the first issue was finished and submitted for final approval to Jim Shooter - who, for reasons he would have to explain himself, decided the entire issue was unacceptable and would need to be redone from scratch - with only 2-3 weeks remaining before the printer’s deadline!
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