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Denzel Washington‘s opening scene in American Gangster has him pouring gasoline over some guy, lighting him up, and then walking away. I hate to sound like the old woman I think I am, but it’s not all that entertaining when you realize the horror that unfolded on Saturday at Good Guys. Police initially said the manager there, who suffered burns on more than 60 percent of his body, was not expected to live. The disgruntled asshole who walked to the Chevron on Wisconsin, bought the gas, lit the bouncer on fire, and walked away, has not been found.

Police told me today the strip club’s manager is still hanging on and the phone message at Good Guys says girls and patrons will be allowed back in later this week, but there’s litle doubt the bouncer has a long, scary road ahead of him. And unlike Yvette Cade, the D.C. area woman also burned on over 60 percent of her body after her estranged husband walked into her place of work and doused her with gas, the strip-club bouncer probably won’t get invited to sit on Oprah’s couch.

This particular crime is particularly hienous. For a refresher, plumb the City Paper‘s recent archives and re-read Dave Jamieson’s Pulitzer-worthy story about the D.C. arsonist. And if you’re still not convinced, ask my dad. His father died several days, this was in the pre-burn-unit era, after a gas leak exploded. Call me Andy Rooney if you want, but I just don’t get why this shit should be made sexy in a movie trailer.