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(Transcript and visual captions below}

The night wore on, and people filtered out to make their curfews, or hit even more depraved parties. Jack laid about, eating candy and smoking and half-listening to people making out or making dull conversation. Eventually Karl came to roust him. He was strangely energetic, perhaps he'd gotten into the uppers. He led Jack through the house, which was trickier for the bespectacled lad. He stumbled over fallen cups, cast off black velvet and passed out kids.
        "Your friends are kinda old, aren't they?" Jack asked.
        "I don't think so. Maybe they just seem like it to you," Karl said dismissively.
        "You're a year older than me. That man there has a full beard. --and facial tattoos. Doesn't that one mean he's been in prison for murder? Wait-- two murders?"
        "Eh, he must be someone's guest."
They headed for the basement.

In which you mustn't muss Shaunessy's hair.

      "Don't joke about that." Karl sighed.
A silence fell over the two boys, who came to make eye contact... The basement was devoid of human life, the sounds of the party upstairs were muted to a quiet thumping. The record came to an end and the speaker hissed gently. Karl shifted in his seat, and the creaking of the sofa sounded like the groans of the damned in the quiet room. Jack stubbed out his cigarette on the cement floor, and looked to Karl with an expression of trepidation. The words sat on the edge of his lips for a moment, before he could let them go.

      "...It smells a bit like rat droppings."

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     August 6th, 2013
     By:  Kelly

Seems like if you have income over a certain level, you are required to have a drum set in your basement.

I was almost done with this comic, I was coloring one of Jack's eyebrows when BOOM. Power goes out. Total darkness. That's like the five bazillionth time this year. Worse yet, it didn't come on for almost four hours of primo Kingfisher working time. I was reduced to playing Solitaire on the netbook. No one should ever have to play Solitaire on a netbook, not in this day and age. Not with all our technology, we've moved beyond Solitaire on netbooks. ... HAVEN'T WE?

Thanks to Christopher for the Gaston-Louis comic! It was great fun and I enjoyed seeing the sun destroyed yet again. Destroy that sun, destroy it all day long. I'm wishing we had more for the rest of this awful, awful season. x_x


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


(Karl leads Jack through a room of making out teenagers. A girl pulls her shirt up to show her bra to them. Karl is oblivious.)

KARL: I have a record player downstairs.


JACK: Whoa.

KARL: I know! Records are cool.


(The two sit in a somewhat messy basement. Karl has records laying around him with a small portable record player. Jack is sprawled out on a sofa, smoking.)

JACK: Do you like that girl?

KARL: You're kidding.


(Karl clutches a 'BRAINSCAN' record, looking a little nervous as Jack smokes, his glasses folded and hanging on his collar.)

JACK: Yeah I didn’t care for whatsername myself.

KARL: So you’ve heard Kyle Shaunessy?

JACK: Uh-uh.

KARL: Listen to the lyrics.

SHAUNESSY: Ohh handsome boy, turn my blood to fire. My love cannot be for you, it's only up for hire. Ohhhh ohhhh


SHAUNESSY: Glenland is done! Send the queen to pick rags.

JACK: Pretty funny. Sounds like circus music though...

KARL: Some don’t like it ‘cos he sings about.. gay stuff.


SHAUNESSY: I don't want to see her anymoooooooore!

JACK: The fools.

KARL: So... it doesn’t bother you?


KARL: Hey Jack?

JACK: 'Sup.

KARL: Can I tell you a secret?


JACK: Go for it.

KARL: Promise you won’t tell!

JACK: ...Isn’t that the point?

KARL: Honestly! Don’t tell. Please...


(Karl looks very nervous.)

SHAUNESSY: I used all the lip balm in the world after we kissed and it was TERRIBLE

KARL: I just... I thought you’re so laid back, you’d be cool with me telling you this...

JACK: Probably.


(Karl clutches the record, and blushes as he reveals his secret.)

KARL: But ehm, yeah I... I think... Well, things with girls just don’t-- it doesn’t really interest me, I mean they’re nice and pretty and such but it just...well anyway I think ehhh guys...I mean, I don’t know but I think I might... be... into guys sometimes? Well, all the time and maybe I’m.. sort of... gay. A bit. Yeeeeah.



(Jack duly notes this information.)



(Karl flips out.)


JACK: Sorry? What should I say?


(Karl regains his cool.)

KARL: Actually... I guess that really is about as good as I could’ve hoped for. Maybe I was expecting more drama or something. No drama is good. I guess.


(Karl comes to sit on the sofa with Jack.)

KARL: What do you think?

JACK: It’s fine with me. So uh, have you done anything?

KARL: No...

JACK: How do you know then?

SHAUNESSY: Don't muss my hair you bastards


(Jack seems a bit amazed at Karl's story.)

KARL: Uh, well you know when you think about something when you- *coff* --er, do things...? Usually I think about guys-- not anyone we know necessarily and men’s bodies and-- touching them and eh-- that sort of thing and-- Um penises.


(Jack sits up interestedly, resting the pillow on his lap.)

JACK: Go on.

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