When Revolver had its big coming-out party, it did so with a flourish. Or maybe it was a sucker punch. The team behind the upstart publication hosted a too-surreal-to-be-believed boxing event at the Uppercut Gym in Northeast, where they pitted some of their friends (!) against each other for a night of hilarious, and slightly cringe-worthy, bouts in the squared circle. Granted, that was all the way back in the fall of 2012, which may as well be an eternity ago. Since then, Revolver has been pulling out all the stops for its various events and book launches, which are, more often than not, more like multimedia-smorgasbords than mere book readings. "After," their show at Art-a-Whirl, was a collaborative art installation; "Desk," which took place in concert with Paper Darts' superb pop-up space at SooLocal last summer, invited artists and writers to destroy a desk and piece it back together as they saw fit; and "Write Fight," held during Northern Spark, reprised the boxing motif with a brainier (if no less violent) head-to-head story competition. But this past January's "Revolver at the Ritz" may have been the ultimate: a series of 12 skits that included novel pitches, Wikipedia spoofs, live music, and, of course, wrestling. It's through such madness that Revolver reminds us literature is more than some lifeless, antiquated relic; it's a living, breathing form of expression — something to sweat, shout, and fight over.