What started as a bit of a freak snow event has turned much more sleety and dangerous. The forecast was for less than an inch of snow, but our street is at 3+ inches now and tree branches are breaking everywhere as ice builds up. I doubt our power will last the night.
No need for alarm, we’re well-stocked in coffee and ink, as usual.
Tomorrows comic might be delayed. Codex is drawing frantically. I’m handling dinner, and have the generator prepped. If you see “Rust: Raised” go up at the usual time, you should assume everything went well.
If not… well, don’t send the Donner Party our way. We’ll have enough to contend with!
–> Codex & Q
Hey all. Codex here.
Today’s post is a bit of a pickled watermelon. Quizzer thought he was immune to The Crud, which invaded the household this week. Since my back log of extra strips is shot, he said: “Don’t worry, Codex! I’ve got you covered.”
Hahahahahaha. Nobody escapes the Cycle of Snot. He did miss the exciting secondary infection Glyph succumbed to, though.
Today he came staggering downstairs, grabbed the bottle of Nyquil and took a couple of shots.
“Sickness, fatigue, nose honey, hubris, stupidity, skull-n-bones, and the imminent destruction of Seattle!” he spluttered. Then he went into a coughing fit and collapsed onto the couch. Before passing out into a haze of mucous and over-the-counter syrupy nostrums he muttered, “”The Economist 2015 is the key.” Continue reading
Mild-mannered soil scientist Jack Broccoli is an unlikely candidate for James Bond-esque action hero. But double-digging turnip beds has toned his physique. The Filipino Butcher Masters martial arts exercise video series has honed his warrior mindset. So when Jack is targeted by the sinister agents of F.A.D.A.M., he’s ready:
As he day-dreamed about fighting off a horde of ninjas with a spading fork, Jack suddenly heard a click at the window of the room. Then another, followed by a scratching sound, as if the glass were being cut. Then a piece of glass fell to the carpet, and the window swung open through the curtains.
A man stood in the room with him ….
The man was the same size as Jack, but he had a defensive stance, which made Jack wonder if he was overmatched. Maybe he just came to take the TV. The man said something through the mask to Jack in badly accented English. It sounded like “Ukon wis mao”.
“I’m not sure what you said, “Jack replied, as his eyes darted around the room, looking for something he could use as a weapon. “Do you want to take the TV?” The man shook his head and took a step toward Jack.
“UKONWISMEAOW!” he commanded.
“Yukon whiz meow?”
The man ripped off his mask. He must be Korean, Jack thought, though to his undiscriminating eye, he might also be Japanese, Laotian, Cambodian, Taiwanese, Vietnamese, Tibetian, Thai, Indonesian, Chinese, Pacific Islander, or Cherokee.
“You come. With me. Now!”
“Out the window?” Jack said incredulously.
“No, out the door!” the man snapped.
Okay. Maybe not completely ready.
If you read just one hilariously epic gardening spy thriller this year: Read Jack Brocolli #1: Turned Earth.
Addendum: Despite the heavy-duty action scenes and ancillary Bond babe hotness, this is a book you can give to your 14-year-old daughter. Ours loved it.