If she introduced herself to me, I would immediately blurt out "...Toast Crunch?" And get shot. And have it coming.

So I mentioned the other day that, at least in my neck of the woods, quarter bins are now usually dollar bins, or more; and twenty-five cent comics are few and far between, unless they're chewed-on, water-damaged, and/or crummy. But! My regular comic shop has been clearing some stuff from a storage unit, like those Marvel Frontier titles, a lot of various versions of Dark Horse Presents, and a bunch of Playmates Simpsons figures that are tempting me. (Rainier Wolfcastle comes with an Oscar! You understand how I need that, right?) Then the other day, they put out a box that probably was last out well over a decade prior, without bothering to retag anything, so the return of honest-to-goodness quarter comics! Some First Dreadstars I may or may not have already had, and today's book: from 2003, Cinnamon: El Ciclo #3, "Desafío" Written by Jen Van Meter, pencils by Francisco Paronzini, inks by Robert Campanella. Cover by Howard Chaykin.

I think Cinnamon first appeared in Weird Western Tales #48 back in '78, but that was set in the old west like DC's other western titles. This was a modernized version, but stayed close to the original: as a child, her marshal daddy had been shot down in a robbery, so she took to the gun--and cowboy hat, and badges used as throwing-stars--to kill the killers. Sometime after that, while not particularly old, after years of bounty-hunting and "security" work, Cinnamon seems like she's had enough; and the daughter of one of her dad's killers was now old enough to want revenge of her own. But that girl, Mace, had also been using the money from her dad's robbery--"blood money," she admits--to take care of orphans and runaways, and a lot of bad people were looking for one of them.

Cinnamon and Mace back each other up driving away thugs and gangbangers, but make arrangements to have it out at midnight regardless. Although Cinnamon didn't seem to have a lot of friends, the proprietor of a local strip club was probably one (and the girls working there idolized her) and he knows she won't draw on Mace, that this was like suicide. Still, when midnight comes, Mace refuses to let her "turn this into a sacrifice" and tells her where her money had come from, trying to goad a fight. They both draw, although we only see Mace shoot, as nearby, Mace's building was on fire... 

Paronzini's art reminds me of Eduardo Risso from 100 Bullets in places; and some of the story does as well: streetwise girl taking no guff while shooting up the place. The circle of vengeance coming back around likewise brings back the first Kill Bill. I picked up the whole series for a buck and a quarter, but that's not a strike against it; I lucked out! I'm also mildly surprised I didn't buy it before: I'll almost always buy a full run of a mini-series from the quarter bins if I find one.