There's nothing crazy about Marv, no matter what anybody says. He's sane as hell. He was just born in the wrong goddamn century. He belongs on some ancient battlefield, swinging an ax into somebody's face. But here is is, here and now. And whoever killed the woman of his dreams is going to pay. In blood. And Marv's likely to take his own sweet time making the bastard pay. Includes Gladys, hacksaw, hatchet & gas can. 6" tall.