The Suicide Club, Part 5: The Final Destination

Joe "The Shield" Higgins has maneuvered Grigas, the president of the Suicide Club, into being the one who kills him in his disguise as Jim Phillips (with the understanding that Grigas will turn himself into the police afterwards, because CLUB RULES).

This scene is very much the Earls of Mountararat and Tolloller:
"Oh, no, I insist; if one of us is to destroy the other... let it be ME!"

Naturally, Grigas tries to wriggle out of it because he's just a shyster with no interest in a murder rap; equally naturally, Joe insists, because he has what Freddie Freeman would call "bullet immunity".

That's some prime Golden Age crook-speak, folks.  I wish I could program my Alexa to talk that way:
"Alexa, I need a recipe for fasnacht."
"FaT chAnCe of mE fRyIng fOr yOu;
I'vE goT As muCh DoUgH aS I nEEd."

Dusty emerges from wherever he's concealed himself in his decidedly un-stealthy outfit;

I guess the "Mickey Mouse" is a reference to the "rat" of the previous panel; if there is one thing about the Golden Age that escapes me, it's the "sense of humor".

Meanwhile, Rogers, the other Suicide Club member who got the black ace, senses that the story is racing to a close and so, abandoning any pretense of arranging a death by comic book irony, just heads to the closest fatal traffic combo he can find.

Or maybe he was a rail lineman. Or a crossing guard. Or a millionaire program management analyst in the DoT Office of Railroad Safety.

But, as previously mentioned, interfering with transportation is the Shield's passion.

The Shield doesn't actually FLY, of course; it's just a concentrated application of innervation out of his pointy toes.

Now that he's flushed out the huckster out at the heart of it, Joe prepares to put fin to the Amway of autothanasia.

Yes, of course, they're lovers, and yes, he's the top.

Meanwhile, in the back room of the Suicide Club, unsupervised and underage Dusty, the Boy Psycho, rushes to give President & Mrs. Grigas a sickening beating before the Shield can show up to stop him.

Dusty is like Tom Holland and Taron Egerton had an XYY Syndrome baby and fed it nothing but steroids and uppers.

The Shield, sanguine at his protégé's savagery, is ready for the REAL fun:

I think Dusty needs some serious therapy.  I'm sure the upcoming holiday season with the Hangman will help.

emotionally abusing men who had were weak enough to be taken advantage of when they were already on the verge of suicide.

CLUCKS!

By subtle application of his innervation, I suppose, Joe, converts their despairing self-pity into righteous indignation.

Thus were Curtis Sliwa's Guardian Angels formed.

Later, in Joe Higgin's apartment...

WHICH I REMIND YOU MAY OR MAY NOT STILL CONTAIN THE ROTTING NAKED CORPSE OF JAMES FIELDING

Ironically, you'll notice that Grigas doesn't get executed (since he never actually killed anyone); he just gets life imprisonment.  Stills seems a little harsh; I was waiting for an amusing comic book irony panel when he gets sentenced to a lifetime of community service on a suicide prevention hotline while everyone else stands around laughing.

And MAYBE monkeys will fly out my BUTT.

Stop bluffing, Joe; not even Dusty the Boy Detective believes you're adroit enough to rig a cut deck of cards. You throw cars around, light yourself on fire, crash through walls; delicacy is not your long suit.