A man in a dentist’s smock rides a satanic golf buggy across a scenic green, swinging a burning golf club before him. Middle-aged men in golfing pants run screaming in terror. It’s a glorious summer afternoon. The buggy leaves scorching tread marks across the green. The man’s head is a flaming skull, distinguished by a pair of those thick plastic safety goggles dentists wear.
Dentist: Under par? Under par!? I’ll give you under par!
CAP (Dr. Strange): A dentist in Wyoming with a faustian five iron…
A 2 year-old girl in a fiery Hello Kitty push chair tears through a Parisian children’s playground, raising hell. This baby ghost rider is armed with a brightly coloured plastic toy flame-thrower. French parents grab and shield their children, running for cover. What remains of the child’s mother is dragging along behind the pushchair, her hands seared to the handles.
Child: Je ne veux PAS une glace fraise!
CAP (Dr. Strange): A Parisian toddler who hated strawberry ice-cream…
An enormous fat trucker with a flaming ghost rider skull sits at a table a motorway service / transport café. The table before him is filled with body parts, served up as a ghastly meal. Lots of blood and gore but also the occasional tyre mark scarring the skin of the arms and legs and torsos he is feasting on. Outside the café window behind him we can see a flaming, hellish juggernaut truck. His ride.
The man is thumping his fist on the table, demanding service from a terrified waitress.
Trucker: More ketchup!
CAP (Dr. Strange): A British truck driver with a necrophagic penchant for human roadkill…
Close on Dr. Strange, looking worried. If Dr. Strange is looking worried, things are BAD. He’s wearing casual clothing (a brown jacket and tie) rather than the full-on Strange suit but he does have a swirly, Ditko-patterned cravat so we know it’s him. Although we can’t see much of the background, he’s standing in a seedy, dimly lit bar. We also can’t see who he’s talking to in this panel, but obviously it’s Johnny Blaze.
Strange: And that was just the first three. There have been hundreds more in the past seven days. It’s taken me that long to find you.
Blaze (O/P): Complete and utter waste of a week.
Pull out to a wider shot. Johnny Blaze sits at the bar, staring into a whiskey glass. There’s a three quarters empty bottle of bourbon on the bar next to him and a nervous looking bartender eying him warily. Strange stands behind Johnny, trying to persuade him how BAD things are getting. Johnny doesn’t want to know.
Strange: You don’t seem to grasp the severity of this situation, Johnny. The whole world’s going Ghost Rider!
Johnny: Not the whole world…
Finally Johnny turns to face Dr. Strange. But something's wrong with the good doctor. His face is starting to smoke, his skin starting to bubble, his hair starting to frazzle. Johnny's face looks terrible: wracked with guilt and remorse worse than he's ever experienced before. What has he done?
In the background, the bartender's head goes up in flames.
Johnny: See, I made another deal, Stephen...
Johnny: I’ll never be Ghost Rider again.
NEXT: One Man vs. One Billion Ghost Riders.