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(Transcript and visual captions below}

Ted Pescado preferred to work at night. He made taxidermy fish for sport fishermen. Some lazy piker had given him a sailfish on ice that hadn't even been gutted, and now he lugged it from his shop to the dock's edge. No seagulls or humans to annoy him as he went about this grisly task. He definitely preferred to work at night.

A distant rumble like thunder was joined by a clattering of boards, and he looked back to see the source. Some maniac was driving a sports car down the docks, rattling the timbers at high speed... Straight at him!

He leapt aside and scrambled for his shop before he remembered the sailfish. He looked at the fish, the car, the fish, the car, and then
a police officer reaching out of the passenger window and grabbing the once mighty fish by the tail. As the car disappeared, he heard the haunting cry...


In which Sketchy Mark makes his only appearance.

   "What Mark? Oh, I'm good for it. We're good for it."

Sketchy Mark liked the sound of Darren's assurances, much as he liked the look of the hundred glenny bills sticking randomly out of his pockets. Darren continued, talking to his unknown associate.

   "Yeah. Anyway, you still think you can handle the big ones? He has big ones."
   Mark said, "Large calibre!" Darren was still engrossed in his conversation.
   "...Oh, this one is like, one and a half stone at least."

Darren rattled the bullets curiously, as if that would tell him something.

   "All of them, I think. I got 'em, like, wrapped around my neck like a scarf... Yeeeah, I got that much. OK, so not that big? Let's think, this is all about clown fighting, right? Well, yeah. Mark, what kinda gun would you recommend for a clown?"

Mark quickly grabbed a shotgun someone had custom painted white with red candy stripes.

   "No, that looks silly. Not for the clown to use, for us to use. To kill the clown, right?

It was an interesting challenge, but Mark had a ready answer for everything. He grabbed a hefty, compact handgun.

   "You want high calibre revolver, snub nose. Surprise them before they surprise you."
   "Uh... I dunno. Does it have, like, blocking power? Or armor ... shooting stuff?"
   "Biiig stopping power. And you can use hollow-point shell too!"
   "Really? ... Jack, he says for clowns, you wanna get 'em at close range, because they're good at hiding in small cars and stuff.
So a handgun... Cool man."

Darren hung up and started examining the handgun more closely. Mark was disappointed he wasn't going to go for a high-dollar item like the tripod machineguns. Still, if his youth of selling mattresses had taught him anything, it was the upsell.

   "You know, if I hava to fight clown, platinum coating handgun makes very good."
   "Wow, really?"


First Comic   Previous    Next   Current Comic
     March 3rd, 2014
     By:  Christopher


Well, it has been for realz, but the next comic must return you to the usual KF stylez, and for us, all the labor that entails. I would shed a tear into my beer, but I don't drink and that flavor of country music gives me hives. Now has come the time to end the post in a Stan Lee style...


            TRANSCRIPT: This is the text of the comic, for purposes such as translation and internet searches.


(Jack's car drives through a wedding as wedding people flee, cakes tables fly, and so on. A sailfish is tied to the roof of the car.)



(Inside the car, it's Jack and Darren. Darren is still wearing a cop's reflection as a disguise.)

DARREN: That oughta keep 'em busy, now for the fat loot!


(Jack becomes aware of the passage of time. Or has he always been?)

JACK: No time, gotta get to my date.


(Darren is back to normal, leaning his head back and expressing his grief at the missed opportunity.)



(Outside of the car, we are looking at the rooftop sailfish and hearing the dialog from within
the vehicle. The sailfish is a large blue thing with a sword-like nose and tall, long dorsal fin.)

DARREN: Wotta freakin' waste! Tomorrow we'll have to start from scratch!

JACK: I told you! You just had to go to the docks.


(The panel reveals Darren is still wearing the CatCat shirt from last night's ABM hacking debut.)


(Jack is looking down at Darren's shirt.)

JACK: Hey give me back that shirt. I know how you treat your clothes.


(Jack's car squeals away into the night, leaving the sailfish in the gutter and Darren with a bare torso. His fur coat flaps in the breeze.)

DARREN: Ain't that some shit?


(Darren is on his cell phone.)

DARREN: Sketchy Mark, hey. You still got that arsenal?

SKETCHY MARK: I'm here to be sketchy, man.


(Karl's room. Karl sits on his bed as he gets ready for the date, and Molly watches the evening news on his TV.)

NEWS ANCHOR: More news on Glenland's financial chaos-


(The news anchor is a man with tall features and sandy hair. Beside him a screen
   graphic has a partial image of a police horse, and the words "POLICE RIOT."

NEWS ANCHOR: The "CatCat" ABM Hacker has returned, and police are reportedly losing control. What can this all mean?


(At the news anchor's side, his co-host is a blond woman. She interviews a wide-eyed person with a little whiplash moustache.)

SUSAN: For one perspective, we turn to banking industry insider Minty Zeinfarb. Minty?

MINTY ZEINFARB: Global chaos, Susan! if a few ABMs are hacked, it is of little concern. But the manner in which it has been done cannot help but shake confidence in security measures!

SUSAN: How can the police recover their honor now?


(Elsewhere, a different screen is playing back security footage from the ABM where Jack - as CatCat - electrocuted two cops.)


(A burly cop interviews those two cops at the police station, having apparently just screened the video to jog their memories.)

BURLY COP: How can you NOT remember?

BRAINWASHED COP 1: We never saw this.

BRAINWASHED COP 2: Also, we're incompetent.


(A police lineup. On the left is a stereotypical burglar in horizontal stripes, a mask, and a flatcap. On the right
is some kind of untrustworthy foreigner. In the middle is a cop - the one whose reflection was stolen by Darren.


(The burly cop has moved on to interrogating the bug-eyed frat boy, who is fingering the cop in the lineup.)

BURLY COP: Are you sure, kid? Really?!

FRAT BOY: Cop did it!


(The burly cop and his partner shine a light in someone's face. Both wear expressions that say there will be no "good cop.")

BURLY COP: Listen, missy. You'll tell us -


(Mildred! The old lady is wearing Darren's sunglasses from the start of the night,
   flipping off the cops, and provoking silent protest from her public defender.

MILDRED: I don't speak Pig. All I hear is "Oink oink."


(Darren is under a bank of fluorescent lights in a cheap room, talking to jack on his cell phone.)

DARREN: So tomorrow night, we finally get big time?

JACK: Eh, I dunno man. We kinda over-did it, don't you think?


  (The full environment is revealed. Darren is in a weapon shop, holding a machinegun which trails a string of bullets that drape over
the crook of his other arm. Hand to hand weapons and firearms line the racks and the proprietor looks on, giving Darren a thumb's up.

DARREN: ...Yeah... *sigh*

SKETCHY MARK: You still gonna pay.

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