Like Alien, but with bird mites
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Shoe, 4/4/12
If your job was to draw the sad, slouched-over bird-men of Shoe cracking wise every day of your life (your life which lasts forever, due to some deal you made with the devil ages ago), would you maybe get a little bored? Maybe to spice things up a bit, you would draw things from the perspective of some scuttling creature, one that clings to the ceiling, looking down on the bird-man as he sits way too close to the TV but leans in closer to watch it anyway. Then the creature drops down on the floor, and you can see that it’s no mere insect, it’s enormous, tall enough to look the bird-man right in the eyes, right in those sad, weary eyes. “Oh, hello,” the bird-man says, resigned to his no doubt gruesome fate. “I’ve been expecting you.”
Mary Worth, 4/4/12
“Still, while we may have left our youth behind, I’ve still got plenty of manly chest hair, right? Right? Want me to pull at my shirt so you can see a bit more of it? Yes? No?”