Preacher by Garth Ennis and Steve Dillon
This epic Western about a young man named Jesse Custer hunting down God to hold him accountable for the mess he made of Earth is equal parts high comedy and horrific sadism. When the first issue hit stands in 1995, it scared the crap out of me. Glenn Fabry's painted covers of burning Southern mansions, leather-masked gimps and torn-off faces were plain too much. But I got hooked when Jesse, his girlfriend Tulip and his foul friend Cassidy headed south to New Orleans to consult a voodoo priest. This was the perfect Western — it was about friendship and love against all odds and protecting your own all the way to the end of the world. Ennis' dialogue was thick with stranger's voices I wanted to meet; Dillon's sweating faces showed me the sort of pain I never wanted to know and the kind of orgasms everyone deserves to have

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