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     October 31st, 2021
     By:  Christopher

Life continues in its inexorable way and the Kingfisher persists in a hell hiatus, like most webcomics ultimately do. But to show our commitment to eventually finishing all this nonsense, we must check in on the anniversary of its birth. Howdy! You get one page now of this Vitus backstory thing, and I think I'll get you at least two more before the year is over, though probably not until some time in December. Meanwhile, IntenseDebate has the comments intermittently down for days-long stretches, so that's something we'll have to figure out eventually, and the Kingfisher merch shop on Spreadshirt had its URL changed when we weren't looking, so this will be your starting point for shopping there: https://thekingfisher.myspreadshop.com/all
 

 

 TRANSCRIPT: This is the script and description of the comic, for purposes such as accessibility and internet searches.

1.)

 (Exterior of a college building under daytime blue skies, with random people walking past and the facade adorned with
  the sceptre of Kingfisherverse's "Godchurch." A little reminder the setting isn't exactly Earth, despite its mundanities.)

INTERTITLE: HARLAN UNIVERSITY, ALLERTON HALL...

2.)

 (Inside that building, on the top floor, we see that sceptre motif window, sunlight streaming
through. Vitus sits on a bench with his back to us, somebody approaching him from behind.
)

3.)

(There he is. In front view we can see Vitus is daysick as usual, a corpse in cartoony art style to evoke humorous recollection
of earlier Kingfisher bonus stories. It seems there are actually two people approaching - a tall slim man with broad shoulders
and a slim woman of more modest height. Vitus is in a tweed jacket over a t-shirt.)

4.)

(Close up of Vitus, his face ghoulish as they wake him up.)

MARGOT: (off panel) Vitus? God save us, how did you even get here in this state?

VITUS: Gyeh whuh

REUBEN: (off panel) You picked a real prize this time, Mags.

5.)

 (In the reverse shot we see it is indeed Margot, with a university friend. She's continuing to demonstrate her love for turtlenecks, though this one is dark green instead of black. The man is in small glasses with thick frames, a horizontally striped thin jumper over a collared white shirt.)

MARGOT: What do you have to say for yourself?

VITUS: Um... Gary drove me here. Who's this?

MARGOT: Reuben. I'll likely wed him, should he still be available when I'm old and boring.

REUBEN: I will be.

VITUS: Um... ┬┐Mucho gusto?

REUBEN: (I used Hebrew letters here for the next phrase when I drew this comic years ago and have
 not been able to reconstruct whatever I was trying to have him say. Maybe he's expressing that Vitus
guessed his ethnicity incorrectly, or maybe he's just saying, "howdy." More likely this is inept gibberish.)

6.)

(Margot looks slyly at Reuben and Vitus grips his head in frustration. Margot is holding her purse strap, right-handed.)

VITUS: (Inept gibberish in Hebrew characters here.) Reuben.
I can do this, I swear. I was just... It was just... I'm on the dope.

MARGOT: The devil reefer.

VITUS: You're confusing me, I'm sorry.

MARGOT: It's Reuben. He brings out the worst in me.

REUBEN: I do my best.

7.)

(Reuben is in the foreground walking away with a facetiously self-pitying gesture. In the back-
  ground Vitus is gripping his head with both hands and snarling as his frustration continues.
)

REUBEN: Very well. I can tell when I'm not wanted, and am acquainted with the exits.

MARGOT: Ignore him. He's terribly unhip. Not at all like us wild drug fiends.

VITUS: You're still doing it.

MARGOT: I can't help it! ... But maybe I can help you. Would you like to see my office?

8.)

(The backs of Vitus and Margot's heads as they approach an office door, the name on it "PROF BYANKA.")

VITUS: I would have expected a Litanian spelling of Bianca.

9.)

(They've stepped into a stereotypical psychologist's office, the lights still off and Margot looking mischievous.)

MARGOT: More the fool you.

VITUS: ... Also that you were a student, not a professor.

MARGOT: Have a seat on my chaise longue.

VITUS: Why?

MARGOT: Psychotherapy, of course.

10.)

(She never turned on the lights, but some amount of daylight comes in through partially
   drawn curtains. She's taking off her shirt and Vitus looks dorky in sleepy arousal.
)

MARGOT: I diagnose you thus: Your mother did not nurse you enough as a child.

VITUS: What radical therapy is this?

MARGOT: Sexual healing.

11.)

(Margot straddles Vitus on the chaise longue, topless, grimacing. He has passed out into his death stupor again.)

MARGOT: (to herself) You're not a necrophile, Mags, you're not!

 
 
 
 
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