Panel 1: President Triden is sitting at a table with two oil executives. They are surrounded by guards wearing badges, sunglasses, and a patch that reads, “VIOLENT.” On the table there are two reports. The report on the left is titled, “MORE BIKE LANES = MORE CHINESE SPYS.” On the right there is a report titled, “BIODIVERSITY: LEADING CAUSE OF CHILD TRAFFICKING? – A study by The American Petroleum Oligarch.” Triden says, “Well sounds like you boys got it all figured out on this one. I’ll get this signed, and you make sure to invite that pretty granddaughter of yours to the next fundraising dinner… Anyhoo, I truly appreciate your generous donation to the campaign this year.” One of the oil executives is pushing a document towards Triden’s pen. It’s an executive order that says “ALL PUBLIC SCHOOLS TO BE LEASED FOR DRILLING.”
Panel 2: Bump is sitting in a golf cart resting one arm on a stack of documents stamped, “CLASSIFIED.” The oil execs who were meeting with Triden are standing in golf attire leaning on their clubs on the course next to the golf cart. In the distance, the guards are playing a round beyond some palm trees in front of the massive club house. Bump says to the oil execs, “I can definitely tell the freaks solar panels are a ploy by “big DEI” to make their kids want to be in gay furry polycules with the sun god, Ra. No Problem… Of course, the bigger your donation to the campaign, the more decrepit towns I can visit to spread awareness of this horrible attack on our great nation. Hey when’s the next time your hot granddaughter is planning to stop by the club?”
Panel 3: Bump is standing at a podium that has a campaign sign for BUMP 2024 which reads, “MAKE PHRENOLOGY SCIENCE AGAIN.” He says into the microphone, “And that’s why I’m going to dim the sun. I’m telling you folks, solar’s no good. And Triden, you know, he loves solar. Just like your kids who went “no contact.” They all love the sun. But when I’m president again, no more sun.” Behind bump are rally attenders holding signs. Some of the slogans from the signs read, “THE MOON IS FAKE,” “I’M SCARED,” “I HATE WOMEN,” and “WILL U B MEIN KAMPF?” The young oil executive and a young woman who looks like the older oil executive are standing in the crowd behind Bump holding a sign that says, “GOD BLESS OIL.”
Panel 4: Triden is giving a speech in a federal building to a crowd of elderly people in suits. In the front row, the elderly oil executive is seated next to his granddaughter – the same girl who attended the Bump rally with the young exec. She is looking down at her phone and blowing a bubble with her gum. Triden speaks at the podium: “And with my new program, “Drill, Babies, Drill,” children as young as third grade will learn real oil rig job skills while boosting the economy. Bump will say, ‘Triden’s weak on energy independence,’ but I don’t see him calling to drill at all public schools. You know, I was talking to my good friend, Sigmund Freud, yesterday, and he asked me, ‘President Bump, how are we going to save America?’ And I said, ‘Mr. Clinton, when I’m president, I’m going to make sure Israel’s schools have the tools they need to arm each and every American child with a Ford F-150. Even the pretty little girls.’ And he said, ‘Triden, I think you should go lay down,’ and I said, ‘I’ll lay down after we win, Jack.’”
Panel 5: Foxwolf, glancing down, stands in her kitchen. She has a peaceful, yet defeated look on her face and says, “And in November, we’ll be electing one of these two men to be our president.”
Panel 6: Young Jerri stares up at her in stunned silence, grimacing tearfully in pain at the bleak options Foxwolf has laid out for the forthcoming election. Foxwolf continues, “Did you have any more questions, honey?”
Panel 1: The television is broadcasting a news interview with “RICH BASTARDSON – PRISON LABOR PROFITEER.” A graphic on the screen says, “CEREAL FOR DINNER?” Rich is standing outside his palatial home in front of a decorative corporate mascot fountain. In the distance, there are a group of men working the property. A deputy on horseback watches the workers. Rich says, “Listen, poor people can eat shit for all I care. As long as it’s sold by my company, put that shit in your stupid little cart, or whatever you people do, and eat up. You’re welcome.” The news ticker at the top of the screen reads, “STOCKS SKYROCKET AFTER REUSABLE PRODUCTS OUTLAWED FEDERALLY – HOMELESS TO BE EUTHANIZED.”
Panel 2: The broadcast transitions to the interviewer, “REED PORTER – SENIOR OVERLORD PLATFORMER,” who is in the newsroom. A line graph behind him titled, “LINE REPORT – IT GO UP, BUT HOW MORE?” shows an uptrending line. Reed responds, “Rich, I don’t know if you should say that. The poors are really going to hate it. You want to try again?” The news ticker continues across the top: “11-YEAR OLD WHO PUT WHOOPEE CUSHION IN D. A. R. E. OFFICER’S SEAT TO BE PROSECUTED”
Panel 3: The screen cuts back to Rich, whose title card now says, “‘EAT SHIT, POORS.’ – GRAINS AGAINST GROIN GRINDING CEO.” Behind him in the driveway, a delivery truck has arrived. Workers are unloading a large statue of another corporate mascot. Rich yells at them, “Hey BE CAREFUL WITH THAT! Fucking Troglodytes,” and then responds to Reed’s question: “No, Reed, I don’t care. We’re already running the ads.” The news ticker reads, “STATE OFFICIALS ‘RELIEVED’ – GOLF COURSE SPARED IN TRAIN DERAILMENT, 357 DEAD – WAR ON (cut off)”
Panel 4: Houndmage and Foxwolf are sitting on the couch in front of the TV watching the broadcast. Houndmage says, “This guy is really out here just dropping some Marie-Antoinette-ass shit on all our asses. Wow.” Foxwolf responds, “Yeah, history repeats itself.”
Panels 5 & 6: Houndmage and Foxwolf both think, “Hmm… History… repeats itself…” and envision the historical painting of Marie Antionette’s execution with Rich Bastardson’s head on the pike being paraded around the stage. All of the executioners and bystanders cheer and celebrate.
Panel 1: It’s the middle of the night. Foxwolf groggily wakes and sits up in bed next to Houndmage, sleeping soundly. It’s dark in the bedroom, with only a sliver of dim light peeking through the curtains from the streetlights outside.
Panel 2: Light from the bathroom shines through the open door into the dark house. Foxwolf is sitting on the toilet peeing with the door open, barely awake.
Panel 3: Foxwolf washes her hands and looks at herself in the bathroom mirror. Her eyelids are heavy. “Mmm… I should write that down,” she thinks.
Panel 4: Back in the dark bedroom, Foxwolf has fallen asleep with a pen in her hand. Her arm is resting on the nightstand where she has scribbled something down.
Panel 5: It’s morning and the room is light. Foxwolf is in the same position as she fell asleep in. She awakes and picks up the note she left for herself, squinting at it with sleep in her eyes.
Panel 6: Foxwolf rolls over onto her back and holds the paper above her. On it is a drawing of a muscular woman dancing. The drawing trails off the page in a sharp, straight line, presumably caused by the artist’s loss of consciousness. The note reads, “Christina ABuilera.” AB is underlined and capitalized. Foxwolf frowns and stares into the middle distance.
Panel 1: “Mew?” Dylan sits looking up to the light shining down the basement stairs.
Panel 2: Charles, hearing Dylan’s mew, has immediately started sharpening a battle axe on a grinding wheel beneath Foxwolf’s desk. Sparks fly from the wheel.
Panel 3: Strapped with the axe and wearing a tiny horned helmet, Charles dashes through the house.
Panel 4: Dylan’s ascending the stairs.
Panel 5: He’s made it to the top. Around the corner, Charles is crouched in attack position. Her pupils are huge. Dylan smiles as he walks towards the corner.
Panel 6: Leaping from around the corner to high above the top step, wielding the battle axe overhead, Charles screeches, “RRREEEAAAOOOWWW.” Dylan flies back down the stairs crying in terror.
Panel 1: Foxwolf is walking into the kitchen. She reaches for the refrigerator door. The fridge is covered in reminders and Jerri’s excellent drawings.
Panel 2: Beyond Foxwolf’s snout, on the refrigerator, a list of spelling words is secured in place with a magnet from “The Bank.” The list is decorated with a friendly animal in a field beneath the sun. Along with “Test Tuesday,” the spelling words for the week are listed: preheat, discount, misspell, careful, peer, where, your, storm, shore, nurse, third, burst, joyful, and enjoy.
Panel 3: The kind animal is so sweet. Foxwolf is pleased.
Panel 4: He’s so round and soft and pleasant. Maybe there is good in the world after all.
Panel 5: “Spell ‘discount’.” The round creature, he has a gun.
Panel 6: Foxwolf, finally looking away from the illustration, seems confused and disturbed as she calls out to Houndmage, “Hon? I definitely still have COVID.”
Panel 1: “I remembered reading that chihuahuas were used as hot water bottles in the past, and I wanted to make a comic about it.” There is a woman seated holding a small, angry dog with a hot water bottle for a body on her lap.
Panel 2: “Mostly because I wanted to draw a bunch of cute little Nelson hot water bottles… So, I looked it up, hoping reading more would help me come up with a narrative.” Foxwolf’s hands are on a computer keyboard in front of a monitor displaying “Poogle” search results for “chihuahuas use as hot water bottles.” Between the monitor and the keyboard, the hot water bottle dog is sleeping on its back and blowing a snot bubble out of its nose. The search results on the screen are as follows: Dreddit: “TIL Chihuahuas were often used as living hot water bottles – A reddit post from 4 years ago that says this and links to the Wikipedia page for chihuahuas, which says absolutely nothing about it.” AI Generated Ad Hell: “An in-depth look at the Chihuahua – We also read that reddit post, lol. Anyway, have you considered the all new Toyota Tundra? Hey, did you ever notice you’re fat? You ought to do something about that.” Damazon: “Chihuahua Lovers Hot Water Bottle Cover – Dog Hot Water (cut off) – Buy it. Right now. Do it right now. Buy Somethi – (cut off)”
Panel 3: “But the only results were links to awful, sourcless articles. The only marginally reliable information I could find about dogs being used as a heat treatment was in reference to another dog breed native to Mexico: the Xoloitzcuintli… The American Kennel Club says people thought these naked dogs had healing properties because they’re warm to the touch.” There is a hairless dog with a tiny mohawk radiating heat surrounded by marshmallows on sticks being held out over the dogs warmth.
Panel 4: “That dog was bred with a dog called the Techichi. Techichi were often eaten and used as money… Those are the ancestors of the modern chihuahua.” A pot of stew steams and ingredients including carrots, potatoes, onions, chilis, garlic, beans and a round, fat dog with the body of a rotisserie chicken are being dropped into the pot.
Panel 5: “Okay, both dogs were eaten. Anyway, this is the closest association I could find, and the AKC doesn’t cite any sources on the Xolo being used as hot water bottles… So this fun fact about chihuahuas is probably not true.” In a classroom, Foxwolf, disappointed, hands a paper titled “Xoloitzcuintli – A Report by American Kennel Club” to a sweating and surprised, fluffy, white dog. The paper is graded “D – Missing Bibliography!” At the desk in the background, a student who looks like the Dreddit logo from the search results in Panel 2 is hunched and sweating, holding their paper which received an “F.”
Panel 6: “And what am I supposed to do with these?” Tons of Nelson hot water bottles are falling from the top of the panel to an accumulating pile on the ground.
Panel 1: Foxwolf is asleep and drooling at her desk.
Panel 2: She jolts awake with an idea. Spit is still pouring down the side of her face.
Panel 3: Foxwolf springs from her office chair and sprints around her desk. Chief looks up from his dog bed as the chair spins with momentum.
Panel 4: Brow furrowed in determination, Foxwolf sprints through the house with urgency. Her surroundings are a blur.
Panel 5: Houndmage sits on the couch, legs crossed reading a book. He looks up from the book at Foxwolf, who skids into frame sweating.
Panel 6: Foxwolf is out of breath, leaning with her hands on her hips. “Are all lions gay since they live in prides?” she asks. Houndmage looks disappointed and says, “Don’t you have a job?”
Panel 1: Foxwolf has arrived to Houndmage’s crowded family get-together. She nervously grins at the host. On one side of the doorway is a cross. On the other wall, there is a decorative plaque that says, “In This House, We Praise The Lord!” A sexy lord is reclined between the words. In the lower corner of the frame, there’s a “Person Meter” that’s about eighty percent full.
Panel 2: Seated below an Art Décor Hand Painted Bible Verse American Flag Cross Holy Abstract Painting Large Art Pictures for Living Room Bedroom Office Decor at a packed dinner table, Foxwolf smiles weakly. The other guests around the table are laughing and enjoying the conversation. The Person Meter is at fifty percent.
Panel 3: Dinner is over and the party is mingling throughout the house. In the busy hallway, Foxwolf is caught in an awkward conversation with a man she barely knows. Sweat pours past her glazed eyes and pained grimace. The man is determined to state his opinions. The Person Meter is at twenty-five percent.
Panel 4: Foxwolf made her way to a couch corner in the game room. One of the guests beckons for her to join the next round of cards. Foxwolf waves off the request, retracting into the cushions. The Person Meter is nearly empty. An alert window displays, “WARNING! PERSON VEIL CRITICALLY LOW”
Panel 5: Outside finally, Foxwolf waves goodbye to the smiling party-goers in the doorway. She is doing her best impression of a pleasant expression and melting into her own shoulders. The Person Meter is completely empty, and the warning has updated to, “WARNING! PERSON VEIL DOWN CRITICAL FAILURE”
Panel 6: Houndmage and Dogwolf are in the car driving home. The Person Meter says, “LOADING,” and has a bar now that says “REBOOTING…” Foxwolf grips the steering wheel thinking about all the dumb ways she was at the party and frowns sadly.
Panel 1: Houndmage reaches for a game called, “Pizza Hell,” and says “Let’s play this game finally.”
Panel 2: Foxwolf is wrapped in a large blanket on the couch playing a Nintendo Switch. She glares at Houndmage. Jerri runs past, excitedly chanting, “New game! New game! New game!”
Panel 3: Foxwolf, still blanket wrapped, has made her way over to the table where Houndmage is unboxing Pizza Hell. Begrudgingly, she sighs, “Alright. How do we play?” Unfolding a long list of gameplay instructions, Houndmage responds, “Uhh, let’s see.” Jerri is vacuuming into their mouth the game pieces from the table.
Panel 4: Foxwolf, Houndmage, and Jerri, represented by their chosen pawn on the game board, continue trying to interpret the instructions: Foxwolf: “So we need to poison all the pizza boy cards before we can spin the arson wheel.” Houndmage: “Yeah but there’s only 2 cyanide tokens.” Jerri, chewing on a pizza token: “Hi Chrrls!” Charles, sitting on the game board, looks down at the players.
Panel 5: “MRWWOOW,” booms Charles, standing in the middle of the board scattering tokens and game pieces everywhere. Foxwolf’s pawn shouts, “CHARLES NO!” as it is catapulted into the air.
Panel 6: Charles lays surrounded by the overturned pawns in a jumbled pile of tokens on the game board. She is purring intensely. “Charles wins.”
Panel 1: Foxwolf sitting in her office chair suddenly remembers something. “Didn’t I order something, like, forever ago?” she says.
Panel 2: Looking determined and irritated, she says, “I definitely did. Where the hell is it? This is bullshit.”
Panel 3: She continues, “It’s been MONTHS! What could possibly be taking it this long??” On one monitor, she has opened a browser window and searched “Fetsy” on Poogle.
Panel 4: “I bet they didn’t even ship it yet. I bet I got scammed.” She’s furiously clicking through to her past orders on Fetsy.
Panel 5: The monitor displays the shipping status page. The tracking status heading reads, “You ordered this from a literal war zone.” A map is displayed below, showing the current location of the package. Below the map, the tracking details are listed: – LOL are you fucking stupid? – It’s probably a crater. – You’re mad about this? Go ahead and complain, you piece of shit. – It made it to the post office? That’s wild.
Panel 6: Foxwolf looks at the page like she absolutely hates herself. “Oh.”
