Saturday, June 14, 2008

See, I can do serious drama

WILSON: No, don't send help! Repeat, do not send help! You need to quarantine the area! Hello? Hello!? DAMN IT! Idiots... the only chance is if I wait it out. As long as I stay holed up SFX: CRASH WILSON: ...was that the barricade? FRANKLIN: WIIILSONNN WILSON: Oh god. Not Franklin. FRANKLIN: COVER MEEEE WILSON: I'm sorry, kid. I couldn't save you. FRANKLIN: BACK-UUUP SFX: BLAM BLAM BLAM FRANKLIN: TOO MANY OF THargle... WILSON: Well, that means I'm down to one bullet. They got in here... they got Franklin. Now it's just a matter of time. I guess I knew it was going to come to this point. (puts gun in mouth) I'm coming, Linda.SFX: click. WILSON: Shit. *sigh* Why did I think it would be cool to shoot that lock off? Well, dammit... I guess I've got no other choice. (And with all other options exhausted, Wilson beats himself to death with the butt of his own gun. Several minutes elapse between the final two panels.)There final panel wasn't originally going to be silent, but I couldn't decide which would make the best ending:

1) The zombies approach Wilson's corpse, moaning brain-dead banalities. He has escaped their fate.
2) Members of a rescue squad shout in vain down the corridor.
3) The entire town is consumed in a nuclear fireball.

So I ended up going with none of them, and the result is the tableaux you see before you. Nice punchline, yes?

Wednesday, June 04, 2008

Communist-capitalist dysphoria

The Roads: Join!It's those guys again. And this time they demand your unquestioning loyalty.