Two-fisted scarecrow Palance’s palor is proof positive of his ignorance of Jesus’ taste in drinking vessels. After socking the frail Grail Guardian into submission, Jackie Boy took a manly gulp of bourbon from one of the most heavily bejeweled chalices he’d ever seen. Within moments the Gotham crime boss resembled a boiled ear, fleeing as his face went grey.
Palance: My treat.
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