A crowned figure behind bars staring down a blue wall of authority with a star on its chest and a gun in its hand. Yellow flashes explode between them like the conversation nobody wants to have. The crowned one has a red eye that sees everything, the cop has a cap pulled low. Letters and numbers scatter across the bottom like evidence that fell off the table. Raw, furious, and painted with the urgency of someone who knows exactly what 1981 looked like from the street.
