More from the Comic Strip that Never Was
I’ve decoded more ideas for my non-existent comic from my piles of barely-legible papers. I guess all I have left to say is: I'm so sorry.
Chick: You should get a dog.
Guy: I’ve got a dog.
Chick: I mean a live dog.
Guy: Oh…
Guy: Do you know the rush of killing something with your bare hands?
Chick: I killed your fish by salting the tank.
Guy: You said they died of natural causes.
Chick: I was on an ego high that day, and considered anything I did as an act of God.
Chick: What are you listening to?
Guy: The spiders moving underneath my skin.
Chick: They’re not only moving, they’re also breeding.
Guy: Damn, now I’m conflicted between pure horror and new maternal instincts.
Guy: Your hair is four times more beautiful than the sun.
Chick: How would you know?
Guy: Well, I’ve gained back most of the sight from staring at it.
Chick: According to the page, it’s going to be even hotter by midday.
Guy: Oh, can you pass me a soda.
Chick: Okay, you crazy schitzo.
Guy: Don’t be so dramatic, just pour some into the modem.
Chick: Your jokes are awfully self-deprecating.
Guy: I’m channeling Woody Allen.
Chick: Woody Allen isn’t dead.
Guy: His humor is.
Well I think that’s all of them, unless these scribbles on the bottom of the page mean something. They look cryptic, so this is probably the last installment.