Mike Mignola is one of the most successful independent comic creators of all time, with short but highly memorable stints at Marvel and DC Comics transitioning into Hellboy in the early ‘90s. Hellboy, in addition to spawning three theatrical films and a bevy of video games, toys, merchandise and animated features, is now a sprawling shared universe of its own, with over two decades of storytelling largely progressing in “real time”—a rarity among ongoing comic series. Mignola is a stylistic powerhouse, influencing untold creators with his shadow-heavy artwork.

Shaolin Cowboy cartoonist Geof Darrow, on the other hand, has significantly fewer published American works, but each one is an event. A disciple of famed European creator Moebius, Darrow has made a name for himself both in France and in America, thanks to pages packed to the margins with line work that would drive lesser artists mad. Darrow has brushed elbows with a staggering number of comic legends, including Jack Kirby and Alex Toth, and has maintained a career that is intrinsically him, never doing work-for-hire gigs beyond a cover here and there (plus, you know, foundational concept art for movies like The Matrix).

Mignola and Darrow have shared history: both published under Dark Horse Comics’ Legend imprint, an early attempt at fostering creator-owned talent that also included Frank Miller, Mike Allred, Arthur Adams, John Byrne, Dave Gibbons, Paul Chadwick and Walter Simonson. In a sprawling conversation conducted at the end of the summer, Mignola and Darrow discussed the early days of Legend, how each artist found their footing in the industry and what they still, decades into their careers, can’t stand drawing. This interview has been lightly edited for length and clarity, but is still pure Mignola and Darrow goodness.



Hellboy Art by Geoff Darrow

Mike Mignola: Do you remember the first time we met?

Geof Darrow: I do. I do. That was at San Diego Comic-Con when it was in that convention center that was near the Grand Hotel. And I remember vividly that you were working on, or you done, Cosmic Odyssey and I told you how much I liked it and you were like, Ah, well… [laughs] I wonder if you had any idea like, Who is this guy?

Mignola: I don’t think I did because I don’t think—it was before Hard Boiled, right? I don’t know that I had seen anything of yours before, and I don’t know if you were with Frank or who you were with, but I remember somebody pulled out, you pulled out, a page you were working on—which I don’t think was ever published? I don’t know if it was a page from Hard Boiled, all I remember is it seemed like it was a really complicated, amazing street scene and I always seem to remember that there was an alligator walking up the middle of the street. I might be completely wrong and maybe it was an actual page from Hard Boiled?

Darrow: No, no, that’s funny. The only thing I could think that could be was at the time, I was working on an insurance job, one of those things where they hire you to draw whatever you want. We’re going to pay X amount of dollars, it seems like a lot of money and you can just draw whatever you want. We’re going to hand this out to people to buy the insurance.

Mignola: How do you get a job like that?

Darrow: Well trust me, in France they call a “poison gift,” because it wasn’t whenever I wanted. And it was one of the things where I said, “Well, what’s my point of view?” and they wouldn’t give me one, and I asked if I could create a character that is a central role in these things and they told me no. I was totally without a compass. I didn’t know what to do because—

Mignola: Could there have been an alligator walking through the middle of the street?

Darrow: Oh yeah, yeah, yeah, there were alligators. That never got printed. They also flew me over because they were doing an exhibit of the drawings, and the company was going bankrupt, and the things never got printed. And I remember, I found out the airplane tickets they gave me—I was already in France, and I was living in LA at the time—I get over there and the airplane ticket they gave me, because they were going bankrupt, was suddenly no longer any good, so I couldn’t get back home. I actually had to go to the office of the parent company of this whatever-company it was that they were trying to begin but that never got off the ground, and I asked to see the head. And they wouldn’t, they said he was busy and couldn’t see me. So I said I would wait, and they said, oh, it’s going to be a while.

And I said, “Do you think I could make a call?” And they said sure, they gave me the phone. And I started calling people in the United States. And they knew I’m on the phone, and I’m on the phone for like an hour and a half. And they knew it was really expensive. And at that point, the guy finally came out to see me.

Mignola: To stop you making phone calls.

Darrow: Exactly. That was why I was doing it. So he said if I came back the next day, he would give me my money that he owed me. And I go back the next day, and his wife was there and he still wouldn’t see me. So I asked to see the phone again and she gave me a ticket. She said, “I’m sorry what’s happened to you. This is the best I can do, this ticket will get you home.” And I got out of there.

Mignola: Wow. You’ve had more adventures than I have. So had you—you were at the San Diego convention when I met you. Were you, or had you been, working on Hard Boiled? How did Hard Boiled happen? I know the book now, I know the book that was in France, which I think was the only book before Hard Boiled? Geof Darrow Comics & Stories or whatever that was called.

Darrow: Yeah, that was another joke. But anyway, no I think I brought stuff down there because I was looking for work. I remember showing it to you and I remember showing it to the Hernandez brothers, and I think I showed some of it to Archie Goodwin, who said, “Gee it’s great, but I don’t know what I would do with it.” So yeah, I just barely knew Frank at that point. Because actually I don’t think I had even moved back. I was still in France at that point.

Mignola: I know you were with somebody, and I don’t know who we both knew that would have introduced us.

Darrow: Maybe it was Randy Stradley, or maybe Dave Stevens because he’s the only professional I really knew well at that point. I’d been over in France with Moebius and those guys over there. In America, I talked to Frank briefly, I think it was at that show. But I think at that point he didn’t even know what I was doing, I was just some guy that knew Mobius. That’s interesting. I think it would be somebody from Dark Horse, but even then—it might have been Dave Stevens.

Mignola: So did you get work at that show?

Darrow: No I did not. I moved back from France because the publisher I was working with went bankrupt, so I moved back to Los Angeles. I was working on animation again. I was working on the Cabbage Patch Kids cartoon show.

Mignola: Your life has been an adventure. [laughs]

Darrow: The beauty of that thing, by that time there was all that uproar about those cards, like they were going to bring down humanity. Teachers were in an uproar and we did this whole show and CBS never released it. It was never shown in the United States. It was like when companies dump toxic stuff in third-world countries—they dumped it in France. But yeah, that’s how I was making ends meet. And that was when Frank asked me if I’d ever work with a writer. And I said yeah, and he said, what would you want to do? And I said something with lots of action. Originally we were going to do a thing with Steve Gerber, their version of Superman. And I was going to draw it. And that didn’t work out. And then [Frank] did that Daredevil thing. I think John Romita, Jr. ended up drawing it. I was supposed to draw that and I actually did some sketches for it. [Frank] said, “You’ve never work-for-hire and I don’t want to be the guy that gets you to work-for-hire, so I’ll come up with something else.” I was on pins and needles because I needed money.



Hard Boiled Cover Art by Geof Darrow & Dave Stewart

Mignola: So did you have any co-plotting on that thing? Because I know eventually, whatever Frank wrote, you clearly went some other place with it. But did you tell him more specifically a story you wanted to do?

Darrow: It was Frank Miller, so I just said I wanted some action in it. And he came up with the first page, where he’s standing there bodies at his feet. And then a car comes down the alley and the guys are shooting at him and then I turn the car into a giant machine gun thing, and all these dead bodies everywhere, and I did the whole crashing-through-the-wall, I don’t know if you remember it. There was a lot of stuff in there, and I didn’t show any of it to Frank. I showed him maybe three or four of the first pages, and he was just like, “Yikes!” [laughs] But I never mentioned—the only thing I remember asking him is that at one point, there’s this old lady in it. And the way he wrote it, he wanted the new model of what the main character is, a cyborg—he wasn’t supposed to be a cyborg, he was supposed to be human with cyborg parts. Frank couldn’t wrap his head around how anybody could take that much damage and is still be alive so we turned him into a robot. But he had wanted the new model to be this hip kid, this up-and-coming gunslinger. And I thought it would be funnier instead of a young kid was having it be an old lady. The old lady was the new model. He went along with it. But that was about it.

Mignola: it’s funny because I know you well enough that I know you must have been kind of reverential about working with Frank Miller. But at the same time, you didn’t really have a problem going, Nah, I kind of want to do this instead.

Darrow: I didn’t know I wasn’t supposed to do that. [Laughs] If you can make it better—

Mignola: Well was it a script or was it all Marvel-style, was it a plot?

Darrow: Oh it was a script in the beginning, but the first 10 pages, I turned into the first issue. And he never told me at the time that he was like, God, I didn’t know what you were doing.

Mignola: When you look at it, I think it’s pretty clear that there’s a Frank Miller skeleton to it, but you can pretty much tell, there’s no way Frank said in a script, He goes through a wall into this gigantic room full of a million characters with—yeah, God knows. Nobody would write that for somebody because somebody nobody can imagine anyone wanting to draw it.

Darrow: I didn’t even want to draw it. I was just trying to make it seem interesting. We’ve all seen guys get shot before. I’d watched some of those Chinese movies, the John Woo movies. I always liked those movies because guys would get shot—human beings in Chinese movies are like zombies. Unless the head gets cut off, it can survive anything. In those movies, guys would get shot like six times in the chest and at the end, would be like, “Okay, let’s go home!” So that was my Chinese movie influence. And just making it goofy.

Talking about this—what was the turning moment for you? I know you enjoyed everything you did at DC and Marvel. How did you decide, I want to own something, I want to create my own thing that’s my engine for creativity?

Mignola: You’ll argue with me, but I think I’m terrible at drawing just about everything. So I’m a combination of being amazingly lazy and terrible. Or at least thinking I’m terrible. And I could probably draw a lot of stuff that I don’t want to draw. But I always just wanted to draw what I wanted to draw. So after 10 years of bouncing around Marvel and DC, it was clear that I was always looking at, like, how am I going to do this forever? How am I going to make a living at this? I can’t do anything else. And I’m thinking, sooner or later, I’m just going to run out of scripts that have stuff in it that I want to draw, or I think I can draw. Because I also don’t want to be terrible. So that was the whole thing, is what can I do well that I could do for a long time. So I plotted this one Batman story, because Archie Goodwin said, for God knows what reason, “You should write a Batman comic.” And I said, well, I can’t write, but I could string together a bunch of shit that would be fun to draw. So I did that, and coming off of that, suddenly it was like, Oh shit, now I see what I could do. But the only way to do it would be to make it up myself.

By then, I’d burned my bridges at Marvel so it was just DC, and I didn’t really care about the DC stuff, so it was just, okay, how long would I be able to get away with this at DC, making up my own stuff, especially since I didn’t know anything about these characters. And around that time, for whatever reason, [Mike] Richardson was saying, “Oh, come the Dark Horse, we want to have you at Dark Horse.” What’s that about? And then it was Arthur Adams, he and I were talking, and talking to Frank. However that Legend thing came about—it was just like, yeah, let’s make up my own stuff. How the hell did Legend come about? Because I don’t remember.

Darrow: Because at that time everybody was coming up with their own imprint. I guess they had talked to Frank and John Byrne and you and Arthur, and I was just along for the ride because of Frank. And that’s how it came about.

Mignola: But it wasn’t Dark Horse’s idea? At least the way I remember it, it wasn’t Dark Horse’s idea. At some point, a bunch of us just started talking, because the way I remember it, we went up to Richardson—it seemed like it was at a party, it might have been a party a the San Diego convention or something—and said, you know, we want our own imprint, and we want the same deal you’re giving Frank. And Mike said, “Okay.” [Laughs]

But I know there was a lot of talk about it before that, it wasn’t a spontaneous thing. It seems like we had the lineup when we talked to Mike.



Hellboy: Seed of Destruction #1 Cover Art by Mike Mignola & Mark Chiarello

Darrow: Well I was living in France, and I just was along for the ride for whatever Frank wanted to do because we had done Hard Boiled and I’d wanted to do like a metal superhero kind of guy. And so we were talking about doing that, and then I’m sure it was you guys who came up with it because, once again, I was just a junior partner, you were enormous engines of creative…

Mignola: Yeah, that’s what we are. [Laughs] Well some of us were I always felt like I was the guy who was clearly along for the ride. I always say, the Legend thing worked much better for me than anybody else because everybody else was, you know, “Geof Darrow, Hard Boiled; Frank Miller, Frank Miller; John Byrne, John Byrne; Art Adams, Art Adams”—everybody, either they were a super-popular guy, or they had a big book, and I wasn’t known for anything. And I wasn’t known for anything. I was the along-for-the-ride guy.

Darrow: Had you done Dracula by then? Or were you about to?

Mignola: I was working on Dracula then. But other than Gotham by Gaslight, was my one bigger—and I did that Wolverine book, but I hadn’t really made that kind of name for myself.

Darrow: Walter—I think the big three big guns were Walter [Simonson], John and Frank. And they had Dave Gibbons in there too. But they had you and Arthur, and then there was me. I still to this day think people [assume] with Hard Boiled that Frank was over my shoulder saying, draw this, draw that, draw that. So I don’t think I was given much credit for what I had done.

Mignola: The thing is, what you did was so totally unique, that’s why I can’t imagine anybody—I mean, you look at that book and there’s nothing about it that you go, “That’s a Frank Miller book.” Maybe it’s just me, but that’s a Geof Darrow book. And Big Guy, clearly, is a Geof Darrow book, because you never think of Frank writing this kind of cute, spunky little space guy.

Darrow: That was me, that little rusty robot was me. Remember when we were going to do that—I still have a little sketch—that thing where the monkey man, Hellboy and Big Guy fight mushroom people on the moon?

Mignola: Really?

Darrow: You said I would have to draw that, because you didn’t think you could draw the mushroom people. But because of certain egos, not yours or mine or Arthur’s…

Mignola: Yeah, it didn’t last very long. But again, I always say I made out better than anybody else because I think, if I had just done Hellboy for Dark Horse, which I might have done even without this group, who knows, I might have done it—but it could have easily gone unnoticed. Nothing you and Frank do is ever going to go unnoticed. But me doing this silly little comic…This Legend thing, we had the cover of Wizard magazine and there was that brief period where it was kind of big news. So the timing was really good for me.

Darrow: I don’t know about you, but I always hated the name because I saw Frank as a legend. John is a legend, Walter is a legend, but myself…

Mignola: Well that was Frank. Because if you remember, Walt wanted to call it Dinosaur.

Darrow: Which I liked!

Mignola: And Frank’s argument was that it makes it sound like we’re old, tired has-been guys, which, even then, I felt like, yeah, that sounds about right! [Laughs]

Darrow: It lowers expectations!

Mignola: Yeah. Yeah, [Legend] is a very arrogant name. And I’ve got to say, when it went away, I was ready for it to go.

Darrow: Yeah, Frank had wanted another Big Guy, but the story he wanted to do, there was no way I drawing that. I hate these kinds of stories: The Big Guy get shrunk down, and he’s fighting things that are giant now. Like, “I can’t wait to see you draw him carrying a giant pencil!” Yeah, no. And about that time, I got asked to work on The Matrix, which pulled me out of comics for quite a bit.

Mignola: I remember having a conversation with you, I don’t remember when it was exactly, but you were talking—it seemed like you were really nervous about writing your own stuff. And I remember saying, you know, you could do a book about a guy going into a grocery store, and it could be an entire book of that, and people are going to buy it for that. The idea—and to me it was clear after Hard Boiled, but certainly after Big Guy—is that you’re best just left to your own devices, kind of wallowing in what you do, because it’s uniquely you. Whereas the idea of working with a guy who’s going to try to craft that into some kind of—I don’t want to say somebody else is going to make it logical, because there is a certain logic to what you do—but what makes you you is when you just cut loose and do crazy shit.

Darrow: But you had classical training. The fact that you worked for Marvel and DC, you had to meet deadlines. It’s a discipline I don’t have, that I wish I had. I worked in a corporate system; I worked at Hanna-Barbera and had to do so much work per week. But with comics, I started in Europe and it’s a different thing over there. You do one book a year. Moebius was kind of the Jack Kirby of European comics, [because] he’d do two, sometimes three books a year, Like, Wow, that’s a lot.



Shaolin Cowboy Art by Mike Mignola

Mignola: Yeah, but I was never good with deadlines. I did a couple of very brief stints on monthly books that were disasters, and got talked into doing way more work than I was comfortable doing. And then I became like a special project guy. So most of the last half of my career at Marvel and DC were one-shots or graphic novels, where I took a lot of time to do them because I was afraid of having a reputation. I mean, the conventional wisdom at Marvel and DC was, bang out a whole lot of books until you make a name for yourself. And then you can do the special projects. But my feeling was, if I bang out a whole lot of books really fast, they’re all going to look shitty. So yeah, I’ll have a reputation, but it’ll be as a really shitty artist. So I’m moved as fast as I could over into these special projects things so I could take my time and do a good job, and maybe there was some kind of deadline on the first Hellboy miniseries, but I learned really quickly to not have any kind of deadline. The good thing about me is I’ve never known what to do when I wasn’t working. So I was always working, six, seven days a week because I don’t know what else to do.

Darrow: Every one of those special projects you did, Ironwolf, Cosmic Odyssey, they’re all beautiful books. There are guys I really admire, but they were working all kind of one thing, but your stuff, each one is its own creation, and that’s rare. Sometimes working on things, if you had just been bashing it out, it could bash out the creativity. And when you finally got to be well known and you could do what you want, you’re just going to keep doing the same because [the creativity has] been beaten out of you.

Mignola: That was the story I’ll never forget—I think it was Howard Chaykin who told me—about Gil Kane. I was at DC at the time, and Gil was doing this adaptation of The Ring, the Wagner Ring. And this was something apparently he had wanted to do forever. This was like his end-all, be-all project. And when he finally got around to doing it, it looked like all his other stuff, because he had been banging his stuff out like a machine. In fact, Chaykin said that Gil came to him and said, “Show me how to use photo reference.” Clearly he was trying to change up what he did, but he was so wired into that, you know, These are my stock poses, these are my stock costumes. So I’m always afraid of that.

Darrow: Yeah, me too. That’s why I was so bad at Hanna-Barbara. That’s why I was so bad at what I did. Because I could never get into that style. I’d seen guys come in with a certain style, and when they came out, they were Hanna-Barbara guys. I was afraid of that. You’re so unique in that you keep evolving, and there are so few people in the business I can think of who do.

Mignola: Well that’s because I never like my stuff

Darrow: Well it’s not like Kirby but it is like Kirby, that same sense of like, the Wrecker throws a crowbar and takes out the engine of a car. But you can do stuff like that, and you can do it like an artist, because you’re a real artist.

Mignola: Ehh. But I never like my stuff. So I mean that’s the first 15 years of my career, is just going, Well, that wa shit. So I got to rethink what I do on the next job, which is why it was good that I was changing from one book to the next book. So I would approach different books differently. I tried to be consistent style-wise for a particular book. But I was kind of always rethinking and trying to figure out what I do. So really, I guess it’s like 20 years, 15 years now, I’ve kind of felt like, okay, I kind of know what I’m doing, this is this is what I do. And then you’ve probably got this thing—you get to a certain point and you go, I couldn’t draw differently if my—well, maybe if my life depended on it. But there’s a comfort zone you get to. I have my bad days, believe me, like today, but I know what a Mike Mignola thing is supposed to look like. And that’s kind of a comfort, because there was a long stretch of years, half my career, where I didn’t really know what my stuff was supposed to look like. You get to the point where you go, I think kind of, no matter what I do, it’s going to look like my stuff.

Darrow: I always wanted to draw really simple. I can draw really fast. I’ve always wanted to do a comic book like that. But I’m always afraid that I did that, no one would want to see it, and I could never go back to doing the other thing that people kind of want to see.

Mignola: It’s a funny thing about your stuff, because you do draw really simply. A lot of people talk about, “Oh, this stuff is so detailed. They’ll talk about like, Jim Lee being detailed, or Todd McFarlane being detailed, and with most of those guys I’m thinking of, it’s not really detail, it’s just a lot of bullshit rendering. Whereas your stuff is very simple, but you just put a lot in there. There is a lot of, oh, there’s a million objects in here. So it really is very detailed, but I’m looking at a piece of yours right now that’s hanging on my wall, it might be the cover to the first Shaolin Cowboy you did for Dark Horse, I don’t know what it is. Anyway, it’s it’s him. And you know, great wrinkles and stuff on the clothing, but it’s very simple and clean and neatly done. Yeah the gun belt’s all drawn and all the bullets are in the little things and all that stuff, but there’s not a lot of bullshit rendering to this stuff. So it is drawn really beautifully and really simply, which I couldn’t do. I have to use shadows so much for a crutch. But your stuff is so clean and open. You trust a colorist lot more than I do, for one thing.

Darrow: Well that comes from Moebius and actually Tintin and Hergé. When I worked at Hanna-Barbara, I was so bad at everything, and my boss would tell me how bad I was. I had to draw props, I had to draw cars and pencil sharpeners, and it always had to be in line. I was just enamored with the fact that, gosh if I draw a telephone that actually looks like a real telephone… And I tried. I can’t render for shit. I’ve tried, but I’d come out of life drawing and people would say, “How come that figure looks so hairy? Because I thought that was technique. I was drawing very hirsute, whether they be woman or man, models. I have a question: what do you hate to draw? Is there something you don’t like to draw?



Hellboy in Hell Cover Art by Mike Mignola & Dave Stewart

Mignola: Anything mechanical. Well, not anything mechanical. I like bullshit machinery. I like old clunky stuff, but like a modern car or an airplane. Airplanes are a nightmare to me because you can never get when they move, where the wings would go and stuff. I can’t turn objects. I’m fine with a photo and using photo reference, but actual moving objects, if I have to draw it from a different angle, I fall apart. I’m getting better at it now because I’m kind of getting more comfortable with, Oh, it doesn’t really have to be realistic, but I get so hung up on things being realistic. And a lot of stuff, especially now, I just have shapes that I like. And like a sleek car, it’s made of shapes I don’t like. I lack that confidence of saying, Well, I’ll just do it in my style. So I’ll avoid things like that. Like machines, smooth-line kind of machines, I avoid that. And women. Terrible at drawing women, or scared to death of drawing women, so I usually avoid that as much as possible. So that’s why I had to make up my own book where, in 25 years of Hellboy, at least the ones I’ve drawn, I think there have been three cars, and none of them were moving. Like, oh, it’s a city, so we’ll draw a car, and looking past the car at buildings. I think I did a couple there were parked in front of an old house once, but that’s about it. How about you?

Darrow: Well, cars, I like drawing them, but wheels are always a pain in the ass figuring out. The tires, they’re not really donuts, they kind of bulge out in the middle and turn in where you put the ring in and all that stuff. But women too. This is probably more information than anyone wants to know. Milo Manara, he could draw women like nobody’s business, and I was always afraid to draw women because I was a bachelor and—

Mignola: You would reveal too much about yourself in the way you draw women.

Darrow: Well, and I’d get a little excited and I thought, I better stop doing this before I get dehydrated. [Laughs] When I drew women, I always wanted to draw women who look like real women. I mean Arthur draws beautiful women. Adam Hughes draws beautiful women. Dave Stevens, my god, that guy. I don’t know how that guy wasn’t constantly keeping the Kleenex industry alive. Of course, he knew all of them, he would date them. That guy.

Mignola: Also, those guys—again, I think because I rely so heavily on shadows and stuff, my women tend to turn into statues. Whereas I look at stuff Dave did or Adam Hughes does, and the stuff is so clean, and my stuff, even now that I do life drawing, it’s all kind of blocky. And it makes for maybe interesting-looking women? If I can just get just get comfortable and say, okay, it’s fine for the women to look like they crawled out of an Egon Schiele painting. Exaggerate the curves and the bones and the shapes of arms and stuff. But you look at Dave or Adam Hughes, and you just go, It’s just so clean and perfect. I could never get there, I could never have that smooth shape, which is why it’s amazing to me when I see guys that imitate—and there’s a lot of guys—that kind of imitate Adam Hughes. You think, man, that’s got to be the hardest way to draw stuff. Because there’s no hiding the fact that you’re just drawing everything, and got to have a real sensitivity that I don’t have. I’m a pretty blunt tool in the way I draw things.

Darrow: Well, I look at the way you draw women, and I look at the way Steve Ditko did. And I always liked them. Those were the kind of women I’d like to know, and that I did know. I like the way he drew women too because they look like real people to me. Everyone’s a fan of John Romita, Sr. and he’s an amazing artist, but his people were so beautiful. It always bothered me that when he drew Spider-Man, Peter Parker would go, “Aw, I can’t get a date.” He’s a good-looking guy! Of course he can get a date.

Mignola: Yeah, I gotta say, Romita’s stuff never did anything for me. It just it was so clean and perfect. What’s funny to me, and I don’t think Kirby gets any credit for this, but Kirby did terrific women. I mean maybe not all the time, and [inker Joe] Sinnott helped a lot. But I think back to my favorite issues of Fantastic Four, and the women are gorgeous and the shape he used for the body was just amazing.

Darrow: I’m with you. People always say Kirby had trouble with women. Not in my book, he didn’t I wanted to know Big Barda and Sue Storm, yeah.

Mignola: Welp. There you go. We could go on forever!



Hellboy Art by Geof Darrow