Like a _____ To a _____
Another week, another round of shoe replacements. Richie sighed to himself. He'd moved on to Gotham, most recently, and was going through the racks of shoes at another thrift store. He needed a serviceable pair of runners, and some boots with decent support for when he had extended amounts of standing in one place to deal with. He was still thinking about that tussle with the nazi and the magic girl from not too long ago. She'd given him some kind of magic rock in case he ever needed to call for help. Very nice of her.
Suddenly, there's a crash from across the street. Richie just sighs, shoulders drooping. "Oh come on... it's a Saturday..." Reluctantly, he ambles towards the front of the store, trying to get a look.
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