So I'm versus Flash number 281, or can we give Frank Curtis a solo series, please?

Welcome back for the Flash number 281, the January, 1980 issue featuring a cover by Dick Giordano, with the issue being edited by Ross Andrew.

Our title of today's story is Deadly Games, How Dark, Written by by curry bates pencils by don hack

inks by frank chiromonte and get the accent more and more letters

ban out of colors geneal angelo last issue

frank curtis call barry to say he had proof that yorkin wasn't the one that killed

barry's wife which he framed as wonderful news. I don't know if

that counts as wonderful news. It is news, I would say, shocking news instead of wonderful news.

So we see Barry on the phone yelling for Frank to tell him what proof he has to, which Frank just

responds cryptically, undeniable proof, which seems to be the definition of proof would be that it's undeniable. But Frank Curtis wants you to know that it's unden- there's nothing you could do to this proof to make it deniable. Unlike all those other types of proof, we come back to Perry Allen's lonely household. He's on the phone. He's yelling. He's waiting for Frank to say something. All of a sudden, here's a blam! A gunshot. It sounds like a gunshot. We cut back to where Frank was calling from. He was calling from a phone booth, and we see the phone dangling. Barry's, Franks, Franks! Going into the empty space near the phone, of course, where it would be. And we see on the ground beneath the dangling phone, the body of Frank Curtis is Frank

dead.

He's got a fortitude, I think that will surprise you.

In the background, nearby a clock tower starts...

...neur-haar... I think that might be a clue.

It's referred to in the caption as having an ominous dirge.

That's quite nice.

Barry freaks out, as he says, it sounds bad for Frank, but there's a chance he could still save him.

It's going to be up to the flash.

Throws on the costume.

We cut back to the scene of the crime where two shadowy figures and nice three-piece suits. Don Heck, thank you. Get out of their nearby cars just to check the body. One of the guys says, listen, I got him on the first shot. The other guy's like, that's where there's two of us here. We got to make sure as they get up close to Frank Curtis's body.

Frank Curtis's eyes open, see that beard ain't going away. He rolls onto his side, reaching for his ankle holster. Ankle holster. The choice of a late 70s, early 80s, bearded cop. Both of the shod, we figure, start yelling about the ankle holster. It's too late. Frank Curtis has gotten out his gun. He blasts one guy in the chest with a couple

shots. The other guy, of course, giving the eels that the creep nailed Mitch. Frank thinks this creeps

...