Except for the girls in Apt. 3G.
Good girls go to heaven.
Bad girls go everywhere.
When you’ve written yourself up a tree and the tree’s on fire and the natives are shooting poison darts and the vampire scorpion on your neck is getting really thirsty and the asteroid the size of Texas with your name on it has just entered the atmosphere there’s only one thing you can do…
Play the Hammy card.
Hammy ex machina.
Cocktail Onions are used to make a Gibson
It’s a wet martini with an onion instead of an olive or a twist.
I’ve made a couple Gibsons back in bartender days, but never had one. Or maybe I’ve had several and don’t remember. Entirely possible.
Now you know what a cocktail onion is!
I think this is the second time we’ve killed RJ. I think. Verne shot him once. But maybe he didn’t die that time. A couple years ago I vaguely remember him going to vet for some reason. He might have died. I don’t remember.
Someone should inventory these things. Not me, of course. I have more important things to do. Like, repeatedly killing one of our main characters because I forgot I’d maybe already done it before.
Writing a comic strip is harder than it looks.
Or maybe I just make it hard.
Hard to tell from the drawing, but my money’s on Death holding a Swiss Army scythe. He’d need multiple tools to carry out his duties – if only to extricate clingy souls from their mortal bodies. A scythe will only get you so far. For those of us hell bent on staying out of hell (or heaven) your going to need a bottle opener, or scissors, or maybe an awl to loosen our grip on reality.
I’ve now exhausted this discursive trail to nowhere and will now stop.
Have a nice day.