In spite of the hell they went through, neither Scott or Barda were illiterate. They were taught to read at rather young ages.

In Scott's case, it was self-taught, but taught nonetheless.

It was an important thing to learn. It kept their minds sharp for either escaping the confines of the orphanage or laying out the best strategy in warfare. To say they would be anywhere near free without having been taught basic literacy would be quite the stretch.

Books on Apokolips were nothing but propaganda pieces or mission reports. Reading something that actually sparked the imagination was not only a surprise, but a genuinely wonderful change of pace for the two of them.

Barda quite liked the books written by Tolkien. Men from across the world uniting to stop a great darkness. Scott had a favor for Pinocchio. The tale of a puppet who can see his own strings and becomes a real boy resonated with him.

"We skipped Labor Day for this?"

Barda pointed to a banner below the sign of a local bookstore saying 'BOOSTER GOLD AUTOGRAPHS AUTOBIOGRAPHY EVENT'

"Trust me," Scott reassured, "It'll be fun."

"No it won't." Barda retorted as she foolishly followed her husband into the building, "I hate this guy."

"I think he's hilarious."

"He's just so full of himself." Barda was rubbing her temples for the inevitable headache as they both stood in line (which was far bigger than they expected).

Scott crossed his arms, "He's a good hero and Leaguer when push comes to shove, honey."

"When he feels like it, which is never."

Their conversation was drowned out by the sea of chatter by the other customers in line, so by the time they got to Booster Gold, he didn't hear a single thing from them.

"Fellow Leaguers!" He called out before they told him to shush. While it was hard for Barda to be inconspicuous, they still took the secret identity thing rather seriously.

"Sorry, my bad." He sheepishly muttered as Scott gave him the money to buy his new book. Personally autographed by him, of course.

"I'm a bit surprised you two came along to buy my latest book," The blonde said in a hushed tone, "didn't think you two were the autobiography types."

Barda was straight-faced, "I need a good joke book."

If that insult registered with Booster, he certainly didn't show it as he gave the two a copy of the book. "You know, my editor said I self-publish this one," He intoned, "he said something about how corporations will suck the essence from your bones like leeches or whatever. Distort the truth to fit their brands and whatnot."

"Was that Alan or Grant?" Scott asked.

"The one with the beard."

"Alan it is."

Booster shrugged before dismissing them since he had a big line to tend to, "Thank you two for supporting a real hero."

Barda rolled her eyes. She would stay for one last joke at his expense, but Scott had plans to visit a local comic shop. The three old guys always put a smile on her face, at least.

"I don't know, Mr. Kirby," Scott slightly grimaced looking at the pages depicting him in a very complex contraption, "I think you make my head a bit blocky."

"It's called artistic expression, kid," Kirby said, his New York accent rather gruff from years on the cigar, "you'll notice it on all my characters."

"That's fair, I suppose." the New God conceded. "Say… your pages look better in black and white than in color. How come?"

Kirby sighed, "It's the confounded digital coloring," he spat, "whoever Lee keeps hiring screws up the process, muddling the details. The colors need to be applied by human hands."

It was then that Lee, the owner of the shop, spoke up from behind the counter, "And I keep telling you it's not his fault!" He retorted, "it's the technology!"

Kirby rolled his eyes, "It's been twenty damn years, when is it gonna get better!?"

"It's cheap and flawed!"

"You're cheap and flawed!" Ditko, a guy Scott and Barda rarely saw, said from the back. No doubt, he was working on art the way he liked it: Alone.

"Don't make me come over there, you punk!" Lee yelled, a slightly playful tone just barely escaping from his lips.

"Aw, shaddup, the both of you!" Kirby exasperated before turning back to Scott, "why do I hang out with these guys?"

Scott shrugged.

"So you gonna get anything, kid?"

"Yeah, actually."

It was then that Barda plopped down an issue with a woman wearing a very short red skirt and a blue shirt that exposed her cleavage. Kirby picked it up and analyzed it, "Spider-Queen, eh?" He commented before turning to Lee and by extension, Ditko. "This the predecessor to one of your guys?"

Lee shrugged, "It's hard to keep track."

In spite of the distance, Ditko heard the question, "But probably yes!"

Kirby shrugged and turned to Scott, "what about you, kid?"

"Just the guy with the hammer. You know the one."

As the New Yorker grabbed the issue he was referring to, Scott couldn't help but chime in with a rather silly question, "You do know he has red hair in the myths, right?"

Kirby smiled, "It's called artistic expression, kid."

Scott wasn't a professional critic, let alone a book critic, but he will admit a few sections of the book were very flowery and just felt like Booster wrote it in to pad the word count or to gloat about how great of a hero he is.

Scott would argue that he is, deep down inside… but the truth is, he totally understands why fellow Leaguers think otherwise.

In spite of this, it was a rather entertaining read and gave him a bit of insight as to how the author operated, even if it was a bit too self-congratulating,

"You know, this really isn't a bad read." Scott said, his face buried in the pages of Booster Gold's book, "I didn't know future society could end up this way."

Barda just ate her noodles and read her comic, "I'm sure revealing future events is a major violation of whatever space-time continuum laws there exist."

"Eh, any of the Flashes and Supergirl's latest boyfriend do worse all the time."

"Touche."

"By the way, did you get a chance to read the latest from Marv and George?"

Barda shrugged, "they sold out before I could even take a gander at the homepage."

"Damn."