So Thanksgiving is over, and Black Friday is over.

Over the past few days, you’ve had to deal with insane crowds in the grocery stores prior to Thursday, as everyone scrambled and clawed for every last overpriced turkey and every last can of cranberry jelly and every last freakin’ yam in the galaxy. You had to deal with the stress and fuss of preparing the big dinner. You had to deal with your Aunt Sophie alternately pinching your cheeks like you were four and complaining that you’ve gotten fat. You had your Uncle Ferd spouting Glenn Beck’s ninny-level demogoguery as if there were something awesome about being a crypto-stalinist nutbag (Could someone explain to me why Beck’s new book has him wearing an old East German military uniform? Or why he’s started saying we should be more like the Chinese? For a guy who acts like he’s terrified that Yuri Andropov is gonna crawl out of his underwear drawer, Beck shore does love him some Commies). You watched 136 hours of football, because that’s all there was to do after eating. You had insanely murderous shoppers and insanely murderous drivers all over town today. You can look forward to the first of a seemingly infinite number of hacked-together Christmas specials on the TV.

I know what you need. You know what you need. You need violence. You need rage. You need a bucket load of anger and blood and pain. You need some dude in spandex curbstomping another dude in spandex. You need FRIDAY NIGHT FIGHTS!

Let’s hit it — one of the best of the best. From 1986’s Batman: The Dark Knight Returns by Frank Miller: Batman listens to Superman complain that the turkey was dry just once… too… often.

That one’s goin’ out to Maxo Romero over at Great Caesar’s Post. Much respect, Max.