6/3/15 5:30PM

The title pun was a topic of unexpected contention. Will, who had claimed he was finished drawing the (admittedly handsome) comic, was denying me a small detail that I thought would bring the strip to a level that a stab at a film in American cinematic canon merited. Specifically, I wanted a trash can in that last panel. And he either didn’t or was too lazy to draw it. I can never tell the difference.

Anyhow, I whipped out my big guns and conjured what I thought would be the argument-ender, a Godfather pun for the ages that tied the whole strip together. And he had the audacity, the nerve, the utter foolishness to tell me that my pun didn’t really work. Well, this accretion to my already looming doubt in Will’s comedic intelligence pushed me beyond my limit. I lost my cool, and I may have called him some names. Thankfully, in the process, Will apprehended that “refuse” was not being used as a verb but as its homographic counterpart. He rightfully realized my true genius and accepted all changes.

The lovely Blaze tried to defend Will, claiming that the pun was weakened by the homograph. Will and I bonded over our summary dismissal of her argument and worth as a human being. Nothing brings people together like a scapegoat.

That’s why I miss you, Daveed.

Nipples Out,

Jesse