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from folks asking me THE SECRET and HOW DO I BREAK IN and I WANT TO DO COMICS, TOO, and apparently since these people just don't listen to me, I figured I'd pull up a metaphorical stool at the proverbial bar and order Fraction and me a couple of virtual pints and talk about how he's get ting ready to climb up the big diving board and get his feet wet. So. Matt. Introduce yourselves to the people, before I treat you like McQueen did McGraw in Getaway . Matt Fraction: Howdy, y'all. I'm Matt Fraction. By day I co-own and co operate MK12, and by night I write like a monkey on acid and hope the commas ain't spliced and the participles don't dangle when the sun comes up. I'm six-one, have big blue eyes, and a penchant for swearing inappro priately. I am a long-time listener and a first time caller. I have a cowboy hat and my girl writes the smut. Thanks to the work I did at Savant and other general online dickery, my first comic is about to come out as part of Funk-O-Tron’s Double Take #6 (Sep012027), alongside teen heart-throb Joe Casey and new-father Charlie Adlard's Codeflesh . Howsitgoin', Uncle Lar? t's not what's going on, it's what's coming off that counts, man. So, here's the thing. I get a lot of email from people asking me THE SECRET, and I tell them that the secret is that there's no secret. The secret is to just buck le down and Do. The. Work. When you all started up MK12, wasn't that sort of a pick-yourselves-up; dust-yourselves-off sort of thing? Tell us what hap pened there. MF: That's the the thing, man-- the secret is easy to say and understand, but a bitch to execute. With MK12, we were a typical dot-bomb story: Money Man has Big Ideas, Money Man doesn't yield the Tall Dollars overnight, Money Man Pulls Plug and Fires Us By Email. We sat outside and smoked a lot of cigarettes and talked about where we could find work... And to be totally honest, the thought of printing up our resumes and having our khakis pressed made us sick to our stomachs. We decided that, you know, we thought we were the smartest kids in the room, so let's try and prove it. You can take the boy out of the punk club, but you can't take the punk club out of the boy, so we said Do It Yourself. It meant a year of peanut butter and ramen, lots of abject terror and panic attacks but -- man, we were the fucking Captains of our Fate, you know? We were behind the wheel, no one else. It's been an education on the fly, that's for sure. The lesson seems the same, though-- put your money where you mouth is and fight like a motherfucker through whatever you have to if it means get ting what you Want and Need.

So, in that vein, what's a guy like you, you know, this year's Man Most

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