Words: Patrick Hickey Jr
Art: Steve Cange
Letters: Josh Adams
Publisher: Legacy Comix
The Job #1, written by Patrick Hickey Jr. and illustrated by Steve Cange, is a fast-moving, emotionally grounded comic that examines the tension between performance and survival in the world of independent wrestling. What starts as a familiar look at backstage politics quickly becomes a portrait of identity, ego, and the lengths people go to protect the dreams that define them. Told through the perspective of Delicious Dan Dero, the issue blends action, humor, and vulnerability to show how the illusions of wrestling mirror the illusions people construct just to get through the day.
One of the most striking elements is the comic’s refusal to treat wrestling purely as spectacle. Dan narrates the work with blunt honesty, exposing how demanding and underappreciated the job can be. He understands that fans know the difference between real performance and phoned-in effort, and Cange’s artwork reinforces that with chaotic, colorful panels full of exaggerated poses and movement. Even in the flashiest moments, Dan’s internal monologue grounds everything. He isn’t just fighting opponents he’s fighting to feel valued in a business that rarely rewards the people who keep it alive.
This tension hits its peak when Dan breaks script during a match. Frustrated with carrying an opponent who can’t keep up, he grabs the microphone mid-performance and calls out the champion’s lack of skill and the booking choices holding him back. The scene is messy, raw, and electric. Hickey uses it to blur the line between authenticity and performance, raising the question of what happens when someone refuses to play the role assigned to them. Dan is immediately scolded backstage for stepping out of line, yet the reprimand feels like its own validation at least, for once, someone noticed him.
The issue briefly shifts to a detective subplot about a string of flawlessly executed bank robberies. The tone shifts but the parallel is intentional. The detectives admire the thief’s precision the same way wrestling fans admire a perfect match. Hickey uses this to underline a central idea: mastery is mastery, whether in a ring or a vault, and someone always pays the price for it. It expands the story’s world without abandoning its core themes.
What gives the comic its emotional weight is Dan’s private struggle. Cange’s quieter panels Dan watching old matches, resting beside Bodacious Bev, or contemplating quitting reveal a man torn between love for the craft and resentment toward the industry. When he admits that wrestling keeps people in “far longer than they should be,” it feels like a personal confession. He knows the business is unforgiving, yet it is also the only place where he feels alive. That contradiction defines him.
By the closing pages, Dan’s declaration that he’ll do “whatever it takes” to stay on top carries a heavier meaning. This isn’t about fame. This is about clinging to the one part of his identity that still feels real. Hickey and Cange end the issue on a note that is both triumphant and uneasy, reminding the reader that ambition demands sacrifice.
The Job #1 succeeds because it treats wrestling not just as entertainment, but as a metaphor for ambition itself. The fight never stops, the odds are never fair, and the people who love it most keep stepping back into the ring anyway.
