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(Transcript and visual captions below}

Karl tried to sort his thoughts as the bus lumbered on with its wearying pace. Some old lady next to him was yammering loudly on the phone, and his ear buds had to work overtime to compensate. He'd pulled every string at the office, trying to get a lead on any criminal activities related to this Ionavic guy and 'Dragomir Holdings', but Ingenue's 'criminal contacts' were just pot dealers and purveyors of unsavory porn, and Hans gave him some numbers off the bathroom wall. If only he'd been writing a snotty review of latest juice bar in town, then he'd be set.

In which hot lead turns into cold steel.

   "...But still, we were talking about your coworkers."
   "I have coworkers?"
   "Yeah, those guys at your place."
   "Oh, Darren and them? Usually, it's just Darren, but there's kind of a 'thing' going on."
   "By the way, how do you have Darren freakin' Langley hanging out with you and I didn't know about it?"
   "You didn't ask."
Karl put a finger on his forehead and tried to keep it together. The curious facts were spinning out of control, as usual of late.
   "So... A 'thing,' huh? Is Darren, like, the face man for the operation? And those kids, are they anarchists or something?"
   "What? No, Darren's just too lazy to get his own place. And the kids have some specialized knowledge about... a problem."
   "Do I wanna know what the problem is, or who?"
   "No, no. It's a... software problem."
   "Oh. Kids these days with their computers, amirite?"
Baby hackers, eh? They must've been speaking some coding language. Makes sense. Jack being a master hacker alone was frankly absurd.

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     June 16th, 2014
     By:  Christopher

Sweet Bippies and L337 Hippies, this has been a bastard of an update. Health problems. Can't be more specific because of comicker/assistant confidentiality, you understand? But the update has arrived.

Meanwhile, I would like to leave you with a gift as a token of my esteem for your continued patronage, but all I have is words. A haiku!

Kingfisher fans are
The coolest people evar
Thanks for your support

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


(On a miserable bus ride at night, two strangers sit together: Karl and Mildred. He listens to headphones while she talks on a cell phone.)

MILDRED: I said I was too old for the slammer.


(She has the look of evil glee and he is looking aside in disinterest, probably unhearing, possibly seeing his stop grow near.)

MILDRED: --And they believed me! BAHAHA!


(Karl approaches a classy city building.)

KARL: (in thoughts) OK. This is it. Try to be normal and... yeah. Normal.


(In a hallway, Karl raps upon someone's chamber door.)


(Allison appears, all sheisty looking. Quoth the Karl,)

KARL: Sorry! Did I-- I-is Jack...?


(Allison leads him inside, clad in a black t-shirt and pyjama bottoms - on a field sable, alien heads vert. It's Jack's place.)

ALLISON: Yeah. He’s puttin’ his face on.


(She summons the lord of the manor.)

ALLISON: Jack! One of your gay boys is here!


(Karl looks a bit put out, but also on edge. This place is weird. Neat bundles of glenmarks are piled messily on a random table.)

KARL: ‘One’...?


(Thierry and Allison slouch on the modern furniture and chat, oblivious to the human.)

THIERRY: So anyway, (slew of occult symbols)

ALLISON: You think?


(Karl is startled by Darren, who is trying to reach past him. Random crumpled bills litter the countertops.)

DARREN: Hey dogg, gotta get to the fridge.


(Karl fanboys out on our erstwhile rocker. Behind him in another room, we see a coffee table bearing a spilled bag full of money.)

KARL: Darren...?! Wow! I-- I loved you guys when I was a kid! Well now too, of course! I have a tattoo of the--


(Darren dismisses the dweeb with a quietly ragey gesture. Behind him the kitchen surfaces are bereft of things humans might use.)

DARREN: Tch. Don’t come in my house with that shit.


(Karl is startled as Darren opens the refrigerator, revealing it has no food at all - just one lonely semi-automatic pistol.)

DARREN: Ah. That’s where I left it.


(Karl is buggin' while Darren considers his weapon. Jack appears behind them in a shirt with a black floral pattern.)

JACK: I’m ready!

DARREN: Wow, it’s cold.


(Walking away from the building, Karl folds his arms against the night chill, while we see that Jack's shirt is in fact translucent
      - save the patterning - and he is wearing no undershirt. His pants are dark. Jack looks pleasant and Karl suspicious.

KARL: Heh uh, so ‘coworkers’ can be weird, yeah?

JACK: I’m sure. I bet those Masher guys are freaks.

KARL: ...Well that’s true.

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