I comic I made several years ago.
Monthly Archives: January 2012
You people make me sick! I mean it. If ever there was a group of people so pathetic as to make a man break his jaw rather than speak to them, it is YOU! How your kind could ever survive without daily bludgeoning is beyond me. If it were up to me you would all somehow become dead before leaving this room; slowly, excruciatingly dispatched in a manner that makes continental drift seem like a brisk pace. Mind you, while this is happening, I will smile and grope my biblical erection.
Honestly, of all the depraved and unconscionable things a person could do you people have taken the cake and, sickeningly, eaten it too! What’s this?!? Do I hear a sniffle? Two sniffles? Come on now, I expected more from you. Considering why you’re here I would have thought it would take more to bring you to tears. Like, perhaps, visiting a righteous and unparalleled act of mutilating violence upon your collective genitals, to such a degree that God himself would wonder why he even created such a thing as genitals in the first place! Perhaps then you will have the vaguest idea of what it feels like to be a victim of child molestation!!!
This isn’t the lecture to convicted child-rapists?
Then where the hell am I? …oh
Uhh, hello. Well, my name is Simon, and I am an alcoholic. Tomorrow I’ll have 281 days. Thank you.
“Close the door. Sit down. Put your hands on the table. We have some questions for you. You will answer them quickly, you will answer them plainly. Do not embellish, do not digress. Keep your hands on the table.”
“Did you kill him yourself, or did you have help? Answer the question. Alone or assisted? Loud and clear now, you are being recorded! Oh stop that bloody simpering and answer. We have the body. Downstairs, right now, we have the body as well as your car. You stuffed him in the boot, dead as Caesar, then you passed out drunk on the back roads with the engine running. You’re done. It’s sorted. All that’s left is for you to say the soddin’ words. Give it up, lad. Answer the question, and keep your hands on the table.”
“Stop the recorder.”
“Right, then. I know you’re clean, lad. I put that bloke in the boot myself, after I took me hatchet to his back-brain. But now, you’re gonna confess. You’ll admit you did it alone, then beg forgiveness and mercy and all that shite. If you don’t; I’ll rape your sister and cripple your Dad. Now, keep your hands on the table, because I’m gonna shoot you through both of them in four seconds. Three. Two…..what? Alright. Alright, lad. Well done.”
“Start the tape again.”
“Were you alone? Good lad.”
“You can put your hands down now.”
So I’m at work, and there is a party going on with fancy food. They flag me down and offer some of the food to me. Marinated duck. It looks wonderful and smells tremendous. I try a piece during my lunch break and that is when I deduce that the duck was not store bought. They killed this animal themselves. How do I know? Because I bit down on these…..