The burglar.

I've been in business for three decades and have been broken into a few times.

What they call 'smash and grabs'. They just break a window, grab some stuff, and vamoose.

So this morning I get in the shop to set it up for New Comics Day and it's very quiet in here (as it should be)

And then I hear a noise.

Maybe it's my buddy Clinky playing a trick on me (he has keys to the store)

So I stay quiet and listen.

I hear some more noise.

It ain't Clinky. There is someone I don't know in here with me.

I think I should call out "Hey! Who is here." or something equally clever.

Or maybe I should stay quiet.

Maybe I could call the police...but he'll hear me.

Not sure what to do.

I hear some more noise from down back.

And some more.

Maybe it's just a rat or cat or bird or something.

Or a burglar with a blackjack.

I decide to man-up and head towards the back of the store. Alone. In the dark. With a stapler in my hand (why a stapler I have no idea)

As I walk back there I hear some more noise...some more. Some more.

My heart races a bit.

I get to the back and see the burglar face to face...

It was a stack of comics that fell off the rack.

And not just any kind of comics...but Spider-Man comics. And we all know how a burglar played into THAT mythos.

The above story is true. It happened just a little while ago.

Though I did lie about having a stapler in my hand.

SO TO SUM UP:
Comics fell off my racks.