Crook: Bone Apetite

To the ghosts of hip-hop's past, those who built empires on broken bones and shattered dreams. To the unsung heroes who fought the good fight against the industry's grim reaper, and to the fallen soldiers who never saw the dawn of a new day. This one's for you. For Biggie Bones, whose rhymes still echo in the shadowed corners of the afterlife. For Tupac, whose spirit still burns bright, a defiant flame against the cold winds of injustice. For all the artists whose potential was snuffed out before their time, silenced by greedy hands and callous hearts.

This graphic novel isn't a eulogy, nor is it a glorification of the darkness that thrives in the shadows of the music industry. It's a grotesque, skeletal puppet show, a macabre dance of ambition, betrayal, and bone-chilling greed. It's a twisted testament to the enduring power of rhythm and rhyme, even when the beat is driven by the relentless thud of death's skeletal fingers. We've painted a portrait of the industry's underbelly, where deals are sealed in blood, contracts are chains forged in the fires of hell, and success often comes at the expense of souls - literally.

This book is dedicated to the twisted, the broken, and the beautiful. To the ones who dared to dream bigger than the graveyard they were born into. To the ones who fought for their voice, even when their bones threatened to crumble under the weight of it all. To the survivors, the fallen, and the eternally damned-this is your story. It's a cautionary tale, a dark comedy, and a grim reminder that even in a world populated by grinning, blunt-smoking skeletons, the music must go on. Even when the music is a dirge, a lament for the dead, a testament to the morally bankrupt souls that feast on the broken promises of the industry. May it serve as both warning and inspiration - a perverse symphony played on the strings of your mortality. A grim reminder that even in death, the rhythm never stops, and the game is always played for keeps. And may your rhymes live on forever - even if your bones don't.