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CHAPTER 8 - PAGE 13
(Transcript and visual captions below}

      The next evening, three young vampires woke up groggily. Allison lazily slumped her way to standing in the bathtub, and turned on the shower. It was so much easier to sleep naked than have to do more laundry. It was bad enough that she was turning the bathroom into even more of a filth den than it already was. Plus it wasn't like she had to worry about one of her roommates trying to peek on her. Well, except for maybe that Darren, he was kind of a creeper. She had no doubt she could kick his ass though if she needed to, and it would feel pretty good.
      After she dressed in her same schlub wear she'd been donning lately, she stepped into the main room and saw only two other vampires.       "Hey, where's blondie?"
      "Vitus?" Jack asked.
      "Um, no. You know, the guy who lives here besides us?"
      "Oh Darren? Yeah, I guess he's blonde. I dunno."
Tristan shrugged.
      "Hope he didn't get eaten by mutant spiders." Allison said as she flopped on Jack's bed. He only glared in response, as he fiddled around with a rather girlishly decorated lap-top. He was being suspicious and angling the screen away, but his expression was complicated and solemn.
      "If that's porn," Allison thought as she stretched out, "--it's gotta be the saddest porn in the world."

In which Allison does not love the nightlife, and must not boogie.

Thierry cackled loudly. Jack was disturbed, he didn't know Thierry's face could do anything but look vaguely pissy.
       "Ma fille, I am anything but too young for you."
Allison rolled her eyes so deeply she looked even more undead than normal.
       "--'Allison', you say. That name is familiar to me. Why?" Thierry asked, leaning on the door frame languorously.
       "Because it's a common name in Glenland perhaps?" she sneered.
       "No," Thierry was visibly struggling to hold back his usual smart-assed commentary, "--I mean that I've heard it very recently.
Allison what?"
       "Chul."
       "Yes! That's it... I was supposed to find something out for you, I believe. Jack owes me after that terribly difficult business getting his vehicle returned, so I think he should let you go with me."
       "Didn't you just have to make some phone calls? How hard is--" Jack sighed and folded his arms, seeing he was being ignored.
       "It would mean a great deal to me," Thierry smiled (!), "Let us just have a conversation. You will be safe, I promise."
       Jack looked to Allison. "Are you sure?"
She paused a moment, "So you're gonna find out about my... what happened to me." She threw her hands up, "Oh fine. I'll talk to you, but if you pull a move I'm gonna beat your ass, and don't think I won't, Shortstack."
       Thierry got a strange grin again, and nodded dutifully, "But of course..."

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     July 12th, 2012
     By:  Kelly

OMG working suxxxx! Actually, it wasn't bad, but it's just very annoying to have less time to work on my dang comic. Sorry for the extra lateness, but I busted my hump to get it done. (Wait, what does that phrase even mean?) Anyhow, this weekend should be normal again. Guess what? It's Christopher's birthday now! Yayy! I'll let you know what we do afterwards but I'm pretty sure it's going to involve zoos, tacos and comics. Happy Birthday sweetie! <33333

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

1.)

(Computer screen displays "Lookit Search" web page, on which someone has entered the search query "Tristan Yponck girlfriend." The suggested searches are the sorts of things male model fans inquire about, and the results blurbs express sorrow over Tristan's demise.)

2.)

(The screen has switched to image results, showing Tristan and his former girlfriend, seemingly a model as well.)

3.)

(The computer user has followed a result to an image blog, beneath which reads more laments of his demise.)

4.)

(Jack is in the shabby apartment using this computer, and he looks a bit sad and angry.)

5.)

(Tristan walks up behind, surprising Jack, who quickly closes the laptop.)

TRISTAN: Hey Jack! Maybe we get my bike and go for a ride?

JACK: Um, I want to be alone right now.

6.)

(Tristan looks disappointed, starting to leave. Jack seems to have settled on feeling angry.)

TRISTAN: Aw. See you later then.

JACK: Uh huh.

7.)

(Allison is laying on a bed, despondent. Jack looms over her. Neither looks happy.)

ALLISON:Alone? Does that mean I gotta leave?

JACK:Why don't you go with your best friend Tristan?

8.)

(Allison looks angry in the foreground and Jack looks like a lark may improve his mood.)

ALLISON: Ugh that guy is so dull. He's all, "Stop telling dead baby jokes!" So boring.

JACK: Hm...

9.)

INTERTITLE: AN HOUR LATER

(It's the exterior of Rafflesia - Thierry's nightclub - and Allison and Jack are walking in past a group of smokers.)

ALLISON: You can really get me in here?!

JACK: The owner is a fifteen year old boy, so...

ALLISON: With booze and everything? Whatta world.

10.)

(Now inside and looking disdainful, Jack and Allison walk arm in arm.)

ALLISON: This is like a school dance for extra-losers.

JACK: Welcome to the nightlife.

11.)

(They continue on, past violet and rose-lit dancers.)

JACK: We should say hello to Thierry or he'll have a shit-fit again.

ALLISON: 'K.

12.)

(As they approach a crowded stairwell, Allison gets angry at the loiterers.)

ALLISON: LOOK OUT YOU GOTH FUCKS!

JACK: Wow...

13.)

(Jack and Allison stand before a doorway with Thierry looking out.)

THIERRY: What do you want?

JACK: You said we should say hello if--

14.)

(Thierry seems less rude and Jack more at ease, but Allison isn't impressed.)

THIERRY: I didn't mean YOU but... Oh. Ehm, who is this?

JACK: This is my friend Allison.

ALLISON: Nice shirt. 'Bloodgrind?'

THIERRY: Oui?

15.)

(Thierry is impressed and Jack is starting to look a bit concerned, or maybe disgusted.)

ALLISON: I brought a pack of raw hamburger to their last show to throw around during Sex Gristle.
It was alright.

THIERRY: You know about Bloodgrind?

16.)

(Thierry is amazed, as Allison continues to talk from outside of the panel.)

ALLISON: Well, YEAH. They're on Deaththrashers Hour every week.

THIERRY: ...!

17.)

(Thierry looks saucy, Allison cranky, and Jack in a protective rage.)

THIERRY: Jack, why don't you leave the two of us to... talk? Or what have you...

JACK: No!

ALLISON: Don't you think you're a little young for me?

 
 
 
 
 
 
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