Docta Pain knows how to settle a score.
Sorry for the insane delay in comics around here lately. It’s that time of year! I’m getting a minimum of sleep, and risking circulatory issues by sitting in front of my computer and drawing board for fourteen hours a day. E’rbody be wanting their holiday and fiscal year-end projects. One client even had me fast-track their holiday card image, but let it sit around their office for days before okaying it. Yikes.
Mr. Biner is like most of us, I guess. We do our best to be our best and people appreciate us for it. As far as we can tell.
…And then you find out that health care professionals are taught first thing: You can’t self diagnose.
We all like validation. Even when the validation has to be manufactured just for us to have it to like.
If you’ve been saying that THEY are going to send drones to get us, and the sky suddenly fills with drones, some part of you that isn’t the running-and-screaming part is gonna be pretty dang satisfied that you were, no doubt about it, absolutely right.
Until the drones either GET you, or they turn out not to have anything to do with you at all. In both THOSE situations (frankly, the two outcomes that constitute 99% of all the outcomes) you’re not gonna be happy. Makes you wonder, really, why you were so worked up about it in the first place.
In case you were wondering where our Roller Derby Girl got her nickname ‘Docta Pain’… it wasn’t from the injuries she inflicted during Derby.
It was the emotional damage she would occasionally inflict at practices and in the penalty box (does Derby even have one of those?) amongst the other athletes. She’s not proud of it, and she blames her parents, of course, but every so often… she’s just gotta get that fix, man. She’s gotta see that look in their eyes when the gossip goes deep and dark. Oh, the Pain… Docta Pain.
How do you like ol’ Docta Pain, leaping out of the canoe and back into the bike race?! Nice, right? She’s got spunk. And probably a weapon, somewheres on her. I wouldn’t wanna find out.
And that Kara Biner, she’s really moved into the role of leader of her team, and not just a hotdog who needed backup. ‘Cause that role is taken by another competitor in the ‘Fest.
Speaking of other roles being taken…
Mr. Biner has issues. We know this.
He also has some skills. They don’t often get used, what with having limited application in a world that hasn’t become apocalyptic yet, but they are skills nonetheless.
I should have been around more boat races. I’ve paddled as Safety Boat for one here in town a couple of times, and I’ve been to watch the race a couple of times.
Other than the insane scrum at the starting gun? Not interested.
Seriously. It sounds awful, but I just have a lot of difficulty in finding something to thrill me about canoe and kayak races. I’ve done artwork for race teams and for races to use on posters and T-shirts. That was entertaining for the length of time it took to do the work.
So… I guess what I’m saying- is that THIS is the canoe race I wanna see. This is the insane scrum at the starting gun, spread out across a lake. That’d be great. I like that notion, and so I pass it on to you. Enjoy.
What sort of arrangement do you suppose Ron and Mal ended up with?
Feel free to speculate.
There’s usually at least one in every crowd, right? The person who worries that everyone is where they should be, doing what they should be, and thinking what they should be.
Donny is that person for this crowd. Everyone else has proven themselves to be pretty dang reckless, so they should count themselves lucky he’s there.
We, as communicators, must consider our audience. That’s what they tell you.
They also tell you not to write to suit someone else, but write what you believe.
They also say, “If mama ain’t happy, ain’t nobody happy.”
All this is the long way ’round to say, “Tell people what they wanna hear.”
So. Did any of you guys wanna hear all this?
©2010-2024 HubrisComics.com Powered by WordPress with ComicPress