It is of course impossible to tell exactly how many thousands of centuries before our own era the denizens of the B.C. universe lived. We do know, because their world is generally dominated by primitive but still clever hominids, that it was long after the age of the great and terrible Elder Gods, as the flesh and souls of any puny creature such as Man would have long ago vanished into their awful maws if they still held their rightful place. Yet as we see in today’s strip, the Reign of the Old Ones was recent enough that a degenerate few of their awful number still lurk, waiting to be set loose so they can rise on leathery wings and feed. Why is B.C.-character-whose-name-I-probably-never-knew looking so dazed? Why is he drilling hole after hole in the ice, apparently not even noticing the nightmarish tentacles and mouth-polyps arising from the frozen mire? Presumably he’s no longer in control of his own faculties, and that all of his normal thoughts and feelings have been replaced by the thrumming mindwaves resonating up from below the ice. FREE ME. FREE ME. FREE. ME. We can only pray that, in repayment for his service, his end will be swift and relatively painless.
On the subject of unspeakable horrors, did you know that Jughead has a tiny little cousin, who looks exactly like him except smaller, who’s named “Souphead Jones,” for some reason? I thought this might be the most boring opium dream ever, but he’s a real thing that exists, apparently, to the extent that anything in the Archie mythos is “real” (and don’t try to tell me that things I’ve spent hours of my life thinking about, like, say, Archie’s Betty-Veronica dilemma, aren’t real, thanks very much). Anyway, Soupy has been good literally all year, in order to get presents, but apparently is done with that jive as of Christmas day. 2014 isn’t going to be about being good. 2014 is going to be terrifying.