Mi stavo allenando, arriva un ragazzo con gli occhiali dalla montatura molto spessa, mi accorgo del suo profumo Chanel e del suo Rolex da quarantamila euro; mi guarda, io guardo lui, dopo due minuti stavamo rifondando il PSI.
He was the terror of London; a demonic figure with glowing eyes and fiery breath who could leap ten feet high. The penny dreadfuls of the time wrote up his exploits in lurid terms. But who was he really?
Today I look at one of the earliest pulp legends: Spring-Heeled Jack...