I Find This Cartoon Really Disturbing. I Mean, Just Look At It For A While. It's Creepy, Right? Anyway, Happy Holidays!

“Do you want to get on?”

“No. I've been watching you guys and I'm getting more and more uncomfortable with this. You haven't moved at all and he's not even trying. Now I see he's not actually attached to the sleigh. The bag is squirming. I've never seen that house before. I don't think there's supposed to be mountains. I don't remember how I got here. I seem to be an animal. Have I always been an animal?”

“Do you want to get on?”

“Santa? Can you hear me, Santa? I'm kind of freaking out. Why are you doing this? Where is everybody?”

“Do you—“

“Stop! Just stop! I can't take it! I gotta get out of here!”

“Wow. Hey, Santa, I thought you said this would be funny?”

“Christmas is a fucking nightmare.”

I Hope I'm Not On A Watchlist

“I'm not happy with the mouth but what can you do.”

“And these are all the people he killed?”

“What? No. There's more in another cemetery.”

“Are these his special victims?”

“Not really. Nothing significant about these. I killed some of them. This one here is the sculptor.”

“How did he die?”

“Chisel through the mouth.”

“No, your husband.”

“His head got too big. No, just kidding. But it's true, his ego blinded him, he thought he was invulnerable. Just remember, you can be killed by anybody, at any time, for any reason. It has always been thus.”

“Is that why you brought me out here?”

“Dear, I'm offering you a job. You can join us and help end this war. We are the secret third faction, the hidden and the masked, the judges and the peacekeepers.”

“Wow, you sound like terr—”

“Oh, no. No no no. Not in this political climate, that's... We are dedicated towards empathy, respect, and nonviolence. I was only joking about the sculptor, he's alive and well. No, we change hearts and minds. Death is the last and least wanted option.”

“Don't worry, I'm not wearing a wire.”

“But you never know who could be listening.”

Holy Shit, It's Almost The Pirates!

“I feel like these can be construed as sexual too.”

“Bah. Can we not find a single non-prurient symbol?”

“Well, according to Freud...”

“Enough with your Freud! How long will he haunt us?”

“What if we went the opposite direction? Embrace the inherent context.”

“What do you suggest?”

“Two erect penises and a face flushed with ecstasy.”

“So your original suggestion.”

“Yes. The first and still the best idea, I think.”

“You know, I'm tired of fighting with you on this. You win. I assume you already have the flags printed?”

“They're in my bunk, I'll be right back.”

“Hurry, the pirates will be here any minute! I hope this war ends soon. I need to get me some.”

Holy Shit, It's The Cowboys!

“Unless we take that port we'll never secure the coast, pardner.”

“Yes, sir. But those guldurned pirates are hunkered down like rabbits in a...”

“Easy on the lingo, kid.”

“Sorry, sir.”

“Tell the men they'll have reinforcements by morning.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Now I believe we have time for a fan letter. Ahem.”

Dear Cowboys,

Let me just say that I appreciate what you're doing, as I've never really liked pirates and the romanticizing of a brutal criminal culture. Not that I'm a huge admirer of the Western mythos either, the fantasy spun to mask the horrors of American history, but at least you're not pirates. And look, I'm not judging, the past can't be changed, the nature of men encompasses the righteous and the wicked and we all do the best we can. But that's not my point.

The point is, where have you been? I've been trying to chronicle this war, this huge, bizarre battle that has spread across the world, but it's been such a long time since the cowboys have made an appearance that I feel like I'm spinning my wheels here. The narrative is sort of falling apart. Maybe people are starting to think that this is all a pointless fabrication. Well, the tiny handful of people who visit my site. Which is fine, I'm glad that anybody bothers to read my dumb stuff, especially the international readers (Hello, Portugal!), so no worries. But when are the cowboys going to show up again? It would really help me out. And it wouldn't hurt your cause to be more visible.

If you've made an appearance before this letter reached you, thank you, and please disregard anything I've said.

Sincerely,

Tom

“What the hell?”

“Huh. That wasn't a fan letter at all.”

“No, just sounds like some asshole.”

PSA: If It Falls From The Sky, Give It A Try

“Open your mouth!”

“Wh—”

“What did it taste like?”

“What just happened?”

“Any sort of taste at all?”

“I think my back is broken.”

“You're fine. Do you have any left in your mouth? Swish it around and tell me the flavor.”

“What are you talking about? Here, help me up.”

“I just wanted to know what it tastes like.”

“Taste it yourself! Here, take a sip!”

“Not after it's been on the ground! Can I suck on your sleeve?”

“Yeah, go ahead.”

“Mm. Mmm. That's pretty good.”

“I know, right?”

His Arm Was Extended, Pointing

“Sword through desk! There, there's your proof.”

“That doesn't prove... What? A sword comes out of your desk? Why?”

“It's a defensive thing. It defends me.”

“And the verbal command is 'sword through desk'?”

“No, I just like saying that. There's a button on the floor to activate it.”

“Okay. But my point remains—there may not be a war going on after all.”

“Bullshit! It's all everyone talks about anymore. Sword through desk!”

“Sure, talk. But is anyone actually fighting?”

“I saw some vikings fight.”

“Were they though? It could have been a party and they got a little rowdy.”

“The cowboys too. You hear about them fighting all the time.”

“Nobody has even seen any cowboys. I'm not even sure they exist.”

“But the pirates keep saying...”

“Screw the pirates! They always lie. No, there is no evidence that there's a war. We're all being manipulated.”

“By who?”

“Good question. It doesn't matter. I am proposing an ad campaign that dispels the myth of the war.”

“Why would I approve that?”

“It would only benefit the company. People will get back to their normal lives. They'll buy more. Sales will go up. Stocks will go up.”

“Will they?”

“Probably. I think that's how capitalism works. So what do you think?”

“I think... you're a cowboy in disguise! Sword through desk! Ow!”

Don't Say Yes

“Look at my face. Look at my stupid face!”

“Hey, buddy...”

“Don't look at me! My stupid fucking face. It makes no goddammed sense! Why couldn't it be in the front! It's a fucking circle! The middle part could be my nose! What the fuck! What are they afraid of, a fucking copyright infringement? Bunch of assholes.”

“Is there...”

“Shut up! Oh, shit, sorry. I've been drinking. You might ask how, and why and, uh, how a train drinks, but don't ask, because it's stupid. The question isn't stupid, the answer is. My whole existence is stupid. A fucking bullshit joke. Ding ding! Here comes the joke.”

“Could you...”

“I can't even join the war, did you know that? No inanimate objects allowed. Bunch of fascists. I'd be great in the war. Run any suicide mission you want. Hey, where are you going? I thought we were becoming friends. Don't go! Do you want a ride?”

Don't Google That

“Hey, Bob, can I ask you a question?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“What is the craziest thing you've ever had sex with?”

“Thing? Thing I had sex with?”

“An inanimate object you've inserted yourself into, or inserted into yourself, or otherwise rubbed against, to completion.”

“Are you trying to get me to go to an orgy again?”

“No. Why, do you want to go?”

“No.”

“Okay. Well, think about it.”

“Think about going to an orgy, or think about things I've had sex with?”

“Think about sex. Think about sexy things. Think about my wife. She thinks about you.”

“I got to go to work.”

“Okay. Want to know why I'm hosing off my toaster?”

“No.”

“Rancid poptart.”

Not Always Low Energy

“This is all terribly exciting. I can't tell you how pleased I am, after all these delays, to start this meeting.”

“Is he being sarcastic?”

“What's that?”

“Nothing, sir!”

“He's sincere. Just low energy.”

“What?”

“Sorry, sir, we were just comparing notes.”

“I know we're out of practice, but let's focus our attention, please. Now, what is the first item on the agenda?”

“The war, I believe, sir.”

“The war. Indeed. Is there a war going on?”

“Everybody seems to be talking about it, so I would say yes.”

“Who are we fighting?”

“I'm not sure there is any fighting? It just seems to be groups forming alliances against common enemies.”

“Sir, it has come to my attention that we haven't chosen a side. Various groups have been waiting for us to make a decision. Like the window washers.”

“Who?”

“Look over there.”

“Good gravy, have they been there this whole time? How disconcerting. Very well, let's choose a side. Do we have any offers?”

“The lawyers have suggested an alliance.”

“And we're not lawyers?”

“I'm not a lawyer. Are you a lawyer?”

“I didn't think so, but I wanted confirmation. So we're... I want to say, business...meeters...?”

“Executives.”

“Business executives, that's right. We are business executives. So, yes, I think we should ally ourselves with the lawyers. Any objections?”

“It's what the window washers were expecting.”

“Who?”

“The people outside there.”

“Oh, yes. I see they're going away now. Is that good or bad?”

“I'm not sure. They were talking about cowboys earlier.”

“Oh my god, I love cowboys!”

We All Serve The Rich Masters

“So, everybody got that? Dr. Egghead...”

“Eckhardt.”

“Right, sorry. Dr. Egghard says we shouldn't be worried about any homoeroticism at all.”

“Indeed. Well, I see by the clock I should be getting back to the sidelines. Can one of you push me?”

“Yah.”

“Wheeeee! Faster, go faster. No, don't take me to the coach, he's boring. Let's go over there. Yeah, that's it. Hello, girls! I assume by your tight tiny outfits that everybody's eating disorders are still in order?”

“Get bent, Doctor.”

“Hee hee! Oh, over there! Yeah, right behind him. Line up my foot with his fuzzy ass. A little faster... Pow!”

“Goddammit!”

“The crowd loves it, you third-rate jester! Ooh, cops. Swing me past them... hey, pigs, having fun serving your rich masters?”

“Go fuck yourself!”

“Man, I love this job! Okay, I guess you can park me at my desk. Got to get back to work. Lots of analyzing to be done. There's a war on, after all. I wonder, are we winning?”

“Uh, the war? Or the game?”

“Either! Both! I don't care, I still get paid. Well, don't just stand there, get back on the field! Tackle somebody! And remember, it's perfectly acceptable to get a boner!”

Skydivers Are Idiots

“Don't look at them!”

“I'm not!”

“But who are they?!”

“It doesn't matter! We have a mission! Focus on the mission!”

“Are they a counterattack?!”

“I think they're naked!”

“Dammit, focus!”

“Isn't that a famous piece of art or something?! I'm going to google it when we get back!”

“This is a suicide mission, there is no going back!”

“What?! Nobody said anything about suicide!”

“I'm kidding! But we face death every moment of our lives!”

“They're getting closer!”

“I'm going to take off my clothes!”

“Stick with the plan! Do not jeopardize this mission!”

“I don't know why you guys are shouting, the comms are working fine.”

“What?!”

He's Not Much Of A Catch Himself! Misogynist!

“Is the war... ow, my foot!”

“What's wrong?”

“My feet hurt so much. Look at them—do you think they look normal?”

“You got some weird bumps there. No, they look pretty messed up.”

“I know. And I don't know why. Everything else seems fine.”

“I guess it's just one of those things.”

“I guess. Anyway, is the war still affecting your sex drive?”

“It sure is. Do you see this worm? Now look at my bait. I'm useless. Nothing's been the same since I lost that last big one. The fishermen are threatening to cast me out. I don't know what to do. I should just give up.”

“You just need time. You...”

“Plus your feet are gross.”

The Personification War? The Archetype War? History Will Decide

“Oh, it's a buffalo.”

“Bison.”

“Whatever. For a second I thought we were going to have trouble.”

“He's a guest. I met him earlier, he's very nice.”

“From what I've heard, their truce with the cows is holding. But you never know. And they could join either side. They're very unpredictable. I read that on wikipedia.”

“Could we not talk about the war?”

“It's just so frustrating being on the sidelines. We're stuck here until the golfers decide what to do.”

“I don't understand why us sunbathers are aligned with the golfers.”

“We're country clubbers. Of course we would take our lead from the golfers.”

“I thought we were sunbathers.”

“No, we're... wait, are you talking about forming a splinter group?”

“Maybe I am. Because if this is about identity, I see myself as a sunbather.”

“Well, I don't. I'm a true country clubber. Anyway, I don't see how it would work out. You're going to have a problem with the bikini girls.”

“Nonsense, they're perfect allies. Along with the surfers, and the beach bums—we could form a powerful faction! I think I'm going to call a meeting.”

“Wait, where are you going? I just ordered drinks! Damn it. I knew I should have dated a banker.”

Why Did He Want To Know?

“How would you describe the morale on the front?”

“Hmm. I'd say everybody's on edge. It's like, what's going to happen next? Nobody has any idea.”

“So, it's the uncertainty.”

“Exactly. Things are changing so fast.”

“What do you think the reaction would be—and remember, everything we discuss here is strictly confidential—if the nuns entered the field?”

“The nuns? Really?”

“I can only say that it's a possibility. I'm just trying to assess their potential impact.”

“Who would they ally themselves with?

“The cowboys, of course.”

“Yeah, of course. Man, the nuns. That would be great.”

“You don't think it would only add to the chaos?”

“I don't think so? I mean, I was kind of expecting the nuns earlier than this. I think everybody was.”

“Perhaps. But the circumstances...” <ding> “Ah, your penis scan is complete. Let's see... Yes, it still looks like a penis.”

Speculative Foreshadowing

“Hey! Hey you! Hey! Yeah, you! No, I'm on top! The top of the pile! See me? That's right! Hey!”

“...”

“I can't hear you! But that's okay! Just tell everybody...”

“...”

“What? No, listen! I have information! You have to spread the message! Tell everyone—hey, don't walk away!”

“...”

“It's important! It's about the robots! It's... there he goes. Unbelievable. Was he a... Oh, hey! You! Yeah, up here! Hey!”

“...”

"Listen—the robots are coming!”

“...”

“Yeah, that's...”

“...”

“Already?!”

“...”

“That doesn't sound good!”

“...”

“Okay! Thanks! Huh. Crazy. I wonder what's going to happen next. Hopefully somebody will at least draw a picture of it.”

Moon Life

“I wonder...”

“Oh crap, I forgot to set the timer!”

“Did it burn?”

“No, but now I don't know when it will be done. Do you remember when I put it in?”

“It couldn't have been more than twenty minutes.”

“Really? I was thinking ten.”

“Can't you tell when it's done by looking at it?”

“This is moon bread, the time has to be exact.”

“Oh, I think it will be fine, we can just check it every five minutes.”

“It's going to be ruined.”

“You worry too much. Come here, let me pour you some more moon wine.”

“I think I need something stronger. Maybe a moon brandy.”

“Rough day?”

“I'm getting fed up with this moon job. The moon paperwork has been piling up, my moon boss has been breathing down my neck to file the next moon report, and if I have to sit through one more moon meeting...”

“Hey, it will be okay. I've been thinking, we could always go back to Earth.”

“With those cows? No thank you.”

“Yeah. But I wonder...”

“What?”

“I wonder if astronauts and pirates can form an alliance.”

Just Saying

“Have you seen my dog?”

“Holy shit! Dude, what happened to you?”

“Wait, is this a bar? Why am I in a bar?”

“Call 911. Take it easy, man. Seriously, you look really messed up.”

“Forget about that! Listen, I have to tell you something.”

“Just rest. Help will be here soon.”

“No, listen! Cowboys and pirates hate each other. They always have. Cows...”

“Is he dead?”

“He's still breathing. What the hell is going on? Where did he come from?”

“I don't know, but doesn't he have nice shapely legs?”

This Is Getting Serious

“The cows remain.”

“This is ridiculous! Is the blockade still intact?”

“They're completely cut off.”

“Then it's only a matter of time. Damn those beef sticks. We'll turn them into chew toys soon enough. What?”

“Nothing.”

“Don't look at me like that! This is serious!”

“I know!”

“Okay!”

“But do you need to go for a walk?”

“What did you say?”

“Uh, you just seem to get in a bad mood when it's time for a walk.”

“Do you know what happened to the last person who suggested I take walk?”

“You bit his ankle? Listen, Mr. Snowdrop, this is only an alliance—you hold no power over us. As long as our goals align we'll work together, but to be honest, we tire of your attitude. Why do you think we take turns carrying your pouch?”

“Mobile command center!”

“We've had success as allies. You do not want us as enemies.”

“Yes, fine. Whatever. Leave. Go for another patrol. I'll be here strategizing. Somebody has to. Sigmund, please put me down. I think better when I'm stretching my legs.”

Cow Jokes Are The Worst

“Look at that bullshit.”

“Come on.”

“What? Oh, right.”

“You didn't say that on purpose?”

“No, I wouldn't do that.”

“But I've never heard you say 'bullshit' before.”

“I say it all the time.”

“When?”

“I don't know! All the time!”

“Ugh. You've changed.”

“Well, sorry for being a little off today.”

“It's not just today.”

“Do you realize how stressful this has been? Suddenly we get all this activity in our sector and the council is breathing down my neck, expecting constant updates on the containment without giving us the resources to...”

“I know! I've been right here beside you! You're not the only one feeling the stress, we all are.”

“You're right. Damn, this is a bad situation. How is the team holding up?”

“We're not going to crack. We have the line.”

“Good. We can't lose focus.”

“We won't.”

“I know. Hey, I'm sorry.”

“Me too. Wait, did you say 'hay'?”

Cheeky

“Normally...”

“Do you...”

“Sorry, go ahead.”

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt you.”

“That's fine. What were you going to say?”

“It wasn't anything important. Please, continue.”

“Come on, you obviously wanted to say something.”

“I'm more interested in hearing what you have to say.”

“I can't even remember what it was now, so speak up, get it off your chest.”

“But it was nothing. I'm embarrassed to even mention it.”

“I think you have to. Actually, I insist. Say it.”

“I am going to respectfully decline.”

“Well, somebody has to say something. How are we going to move forward out of this ridiculous situation? We have to make a choice. I am going to be the interrogator. That's my choice. I will not stand down. You must be the confessor. You must. It's the only way. It's all up to you now. Speak. Speak!”

“Do you...”

“I changed my mind. I was going to say, 'Normally people are quick to point out other people's differences, but I say, who cares? Can't we evolve past that already?'”

“Do you think you could just shut up and play the game?”

This Is Probably A Little Angry

“Okay, I think that was a very good first session, I feel we've established a very good base on which to build. Would you agree?”

“But I'm still so sad.”

“Yes, we both agree that you are sad. Now, in the time before our next session, as an exercise, I would like you to think about the idea that you are old and stupid.”

“What?”

“Just the idea. Just entertain the possibility that it's true, as a therapeutic tool. You are old and stupid and a fucked-up asshole and a piece of shit.”

“Wait a minute...”

“Just think about it. Turn it over in your mind. I believe it will help. Now, if you will excuse me, I have to fuck off. I'll be stepping the fuck out of this insane delusion. No gods! No gods!”

100th Post! Can That Be True? I Guess So!

“I think you know where I'm going with this.”

“Yes, I do.”

“You seem a little disappointed.”

“I'm just tired. No, it's fine. It fits the occasion. Callbacks are good.”

“I suppose. Well, I'm a little disappointed. I thought there'd be more. I just wanted... say, could you slip your hand in and take over? I'm getting a cramp.”

“Sure.”

“Thanks. I just wanted to break some new ground, you know? Callbacks are okay, self-reference is okay, but what are we missing? I feel like there's this edge we should be exploring, but we're not approaching it at the right angle and we can't quite find it. Do you know what I mean?”

“What? Sorry, I was distracted by your harness. Is there a reason it's shaped that way?”

“Yes. Is that glass empty? Could you hand it to me? Okay. Okay. There, that's it. You can stop. Thank you.”

“No problem. Well, I'm not sure what you were expecting—it's only an anniversary for us. Anyway, I have get going, special meeting tonight. Don't wait up for me, dear.”

“Yeah, I might have a late night too, I think I'll circle the city and fight capitalism. See you in the morning, honey.”

The Salesmanship Is The Thing

“Helloooo! Can I ask you... oh, you don't have a mouth. Well, this is awkward.”

*Go on, ask.*

“Wow, telepathy! Sorry, I shouldn't have presumed anything. As I was saying, I'd like to ask...”

*Let me stop you right there. I perceive the question. I must decline, and I must ask you a question—how did it come to this? Where did it go wrong?*

“Am I at the right table?”

*Probably not. That's okay. If you'll excuse me, I was just leaving. I have some alcohol molecules to assimilate. Enjoy the mummery of late-stage capitalism!*

“Yes, thank you! She seems nice. Am I even at the right party? Did I overshoot the timeline again? This is getting so confusing. Still, I bet one of these ladies will be interested in my... oh, you're back!”

*Do you have a free sample?*

“Yes!”

Inopportune

“Don't let go!”

“I'm not!”

“It's slipping!”

“No it isn't!”

“I can see it slipping!”

“It's not slipping!”

“You should have tied it around your wrist!”

“I don't need to tie anything!”

“Your hand is getting sweaty!”

“Stop it!”

“A horse is coming!”

“It's fine!”

“Guns are dangerous!”

“I know!”

“Are you okay?!”

“I'm okay!”

“Are you?!”

“Yes!”

“So many things can go wrong!”

“All is predetermined!”

“What?!”

“I fucked your wife!”

“What?! Look out!”

Hello, Baseball Fans!

“I see it! I understand! Oh, hey, baseball dudes. I hope I'm not interrupting.”

“What happened to the ump?”

“Good question. He's probably fine. Wow, quite a crowd here tonight, eh? I didn't think anybody went to baseball games anymore. Isn't it a dying sport that nobody cares about?”

“Aw, man, you come in here and say these things?”

“Sorry, you're right, sorry. I'm not here to slam your ridiculous game. I'm here to make an announcement.”

“Well, you better hurry up, I see security coming.”

“Ooh, so they are. Actually, the announcement is for my own timeline. I have nothing for you guys. I just traveled here to see something for myself. And I was right! Anyway, I'll be going now. Good luck! Magic cloud, take me away!”

“Huh. You know, he's right—baseball is pretty lame.”

Or Some Sort Of Vegetables

“First of all, the water is going to spread over to my side anyway, and second, you don't have knives for fingers.”

“How do you know I don't have knives for fingers too?”

“Do you?”

“No.”

“So I have it worse.”

“I didn't mean it like it was a competition or something. This is bad all around. This is a bad nightmare.”

“Agreed.”

“So poorly executed.”

“Hacky.”

“And getting rained on all night is the worst.”

“Knives for fingers!”

“Our marriage is a sham! Ow!”

Don't Date Out Of Your League

“No, you're clear. Wait. Scrunch down a little bit. Okay, you're clear.”

“Should I get up?”

“Slide out of the chair to the floor. That's it, slowly. Now roll. Okay, you're okay. It hasn't moved. Just back away now.”

“Oh my god. What do I do now?”

“Go, get out of here. There's nothing you can do.”

“What about you?”

“Once you're gone I'm going to trying jumping out of my chair. I think it's my only chance. It's pointed right at my belly button. Jesus, what is it waiting for?”

“Maybe I can push it out of the way.”

“No! Don't touch it. We have no idea what it will do.”

“I can't just leave!”

“You have to! Go, warn the others. The AI has gone crazy. Something I did must have triggered it. Let's see—don't drink red wine. Don't wear baggy pants and a sweater. Don't... I don't know, don' t make any jokes about memory wipes that makes it sound like butt wiping. Go! Stay out of the round rooms!”

What Is That Silhouette In The Window?

“Are you sure you're not being sarcastic? You sound sarcastic.”

“I assure you I'm being sincere.”

“Well, since I can't see your face I'll have to take your word for it.”

“Do you want to lift the lid for a second and see?”

“I can't. I keep telling you, I'm a corpse.”

“Now, when you say corpse...”

“I died in 2007.”

“I see.”

“Again, I wish I could see your expression.”

“I am listening and I am open to your thoughts. I'm just trying to understand. For instance, how are you speaking?”

“Why is that important?”

“Because you should be inanimate.”

“I am inanimate! I'm a corpse!”

“All right. Obviously I've upset you. Would you like to discuss it?”

“You're focusing on the trivial. I wasn't dragged here by my personal gravediggers to discuss what it's like being a corpse.”

“Why are you here?”

“I was told that you were the most beautiful woman in this land, so I was going to ask you to be my queen and join me to rule the shadow realms. Except now I'm thinking, what does it matter if you're beautiful if I can never see or touch you, sealed as I am in this necronautical vessel for the rest of eternity? Also, I barely know you. Also, my enemies are everywhere, so you would be in constant danger if you accept. This was a terrible idea! I can't believe the undying seers talked me into this. How embarrassing. What a fuck-up.”

“I cosplay as Lady Death.”

“Holy shit! Hooray!”

Personal History, Not A Statement On Class

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Yes, of course!”

“Do you know of any new ways to make money?”

“Wow, that's a good question. I guess you've tried all the old ways?”

“Oh yes. All of them.”

“And how did that work out for you?”

“Quite well. I have a lot of money.”

“How much?”

“I'm not really sure. The amount keeps changing.”

“Keeps going up, I suppose?”

“Probably, yes. That's what they tell me.”

“And now you're looking for something new, something different, a whole new—goddammit, what the hell are you staring at?! You got a problem, asshole?! Fucking chauffeurs.”

Subversion Of Corporate Culture Is Tricky

“You're not going to engage with him, are...”

“Karl, what are you doing?”

“...you—okay. Yeah, Karl, what are you doing there?”

“What am I doing? I'll tell you a riddle: what is the opposite of a meeting?”

“Uhhh...”

“Prophecy.”

“Huh.”

“It's the paper and the ink. The ink. Think about that.”

“Is this new? This seems new. Nobody told me about this.”

“It's a new development, but we didn't think it was important. I'll handle this. Karl? Karl, do you see these papers we're holding? Take a look. That's right. We're carrying them around. That's our job. We control the papers. They do not control us.”

“Okay. Yes. You're right. I don't know what came over me. What am I doing?”

“It's all right, Karl. We're all under a lot of stress.”

“Yeah, I'm fine now. Say, can I see that piece of paper?”

“Sure. Hey! He ate it!”

“I am the Paper and the Ink!”

“I still have my paper. Let's go, we have a lot of walking to do.”

Look Not Upon the Drawings, Lest Madness Take You

“Heyyy. Hey, buddy.”

“Not again.”

“Can we ask you something?”

“We hate to bother you but it's really important.”

“You guys know my normal hours.”

“Right, yes, but we couldn't wait until morning. We need to know.”

“Please?”

“Fine. But you already know the answer. It is ruin. Ruin! You will twist and tatter in the wind. You will taste exhaustion and drink despair. All will be lost.”

“Well that's disappointing. It seemed like a solid plan, didn't it?”

“Maybe he's wrong. He's just a kid.”

“I knew you would say that. Now leave, and I would remind you to come to me only after school, as all in the neighborhood know, except I will not see you again, your fate is set.”

“Okay! Say hi to your dad for me.”

“I've heard he's not always right. Let's just...”

“Assholes.”

But Meetings Are Awesome

“What the hell? Are they making fun of us?”

“This is bullshit.”

“This is fucking bullshit.”

“Stupid goddamn aliens.”

“I'm going to kick their asses.”

“Yeah, let's kick their goddamn asses.”

“Wait, hang on. We can't.”

“Why the hell not?”

“I know one of them.”

“Which one?”

“The middle one. He works with my wife. He was over to the house once. At that barbecue, remember?”

“Oh yeah. He seemed nice.”

“He's cool.”

“Should we say hi?”

“No, it's too awkward. Let's just hide here until they wander off. Then we can trash that dumbass spaceship.”

“The Anti-Meeting Alliance strikes again!”

He Later Did

“I met a girl.”

“Dude!”

“I'm in love.”

“Where is she?”

“Over there. In the blue dress. She's waving. Hi.”

“Uh, she looks kind of young.”

“She's twenty-three.”

“Dude!”

“I know, but it's different this time! She's smart, and funny, and she's into older guys.”

“I keep going over this with you, we have to be suspicious of everybody. They're looking for any weakness. And this isn't even subtle.”

“She's not one of them! This is real.”

“They're everywhere! They would love to disrupt this... primary debate? Is this a primary debate?”

“I think so...”

“It doesn't matter! You know the protocols. Don't go near her.”

“I hate you! I quit! I hope you slip and fall in your dance routine!”

“Dude!”

Who Wouldn't?

“Sorry it took so long to get this together.”

“Isn't it spring...?

“Shh. The sharks of truth are here, so...”

“Lake sharks...?”

“Shush! So why don't we begin.”

“Yeah, I've been waiting for this meeting for a long...”

“Nope. Not a meeting. We're not doing that.”

“Why, because the meetings lately have gone way off the rails?”

“Did you notice that too? Stupid aliens. Did you know that advanced meeting technology is an actual thing? Crazy. Anyway, we have to get back to basics. We have to simplify. So this isn't a meeting.”

“What is it then?”

“It's an informal, um...”

“Covert.”

“Covert, yes, an informal covert... happening?”

“Convergence.”

“I don't know...”

“Coven.”

“What?”

“Crucible.”

“Why are you saying these words?”

“Continuum.”

“It doesn't matter! We have important things to discuss.”

“Like the war?”

“Yes! And here's the thing—there is no war! There never was. We have never been at war. It's all a lie. We have to find out what they're distracting us from.”

“Cuntstorm! Ooh, the sharks liked that one.”

The Dog Is Appalled

“Your workers just left it here.”

“...”

“No, it happened about twenty minutes ago. It looks like it just happened, or like it's still happening, like it's about to crash into the couch, but if you look closely there's no real indication of movement.”

“...”

“That's not why I'm calling. Actually, I was wondering if we could keep it.”

“...”

“Just the ball. You can have the rope back.”

“...”

“Well, my husband wants it.”

“...”

“He... likes it. He can't take his eyes off it. Something about the roundness and the destruction... Look, when you've been married this long, anything than can spark a...”

“...”

“Oh! I had no idea.”

“...”

“That sounds reasonable. I'll let you know. Good-bye. They said we can rent it. Apparently this happens all the time. They even have a website, wreckthemballs.com. Did you want to...?”

“PREPARE YOURSELF, WOMAN!”

Robot Or

“It's usually around two hundred, but if you want something special it can go up to five.”

“What do you mean 'something special'?”

“Oh, you know, the sorts of things that don't normally happen.”

“Wait—did you say robot horse or robot whores?”

“Whores.”

“All right, now I'm confused. You're riding a robot horse...”

“Correct.”

“...and robot whores are a thing too?”

“Yes.”

“Are they made by the same company?”

“No, two different companies.”

“And those are the only two kinds of robots that exist?”

“Right, the field of robotics has only advanced in the areas of horses and whores.”

“Doesn't that seem like a misunderstanding?”

“I'm not sure what you mean.”

“Like these two companies were told to research the same thing but they heard it differently.”

“What?”

“Never mind. Angry horse, attack!”