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Let us have no delay! Let us have the comment of the week!

“Poor young’uns! Their tongues, once a vivid fire engine red, are now the color of a pencil eraser. They been eatin’ too much roadkill, which isn’t providing some vital nutrient. Iron, maybe? Vitamin K? Look, I’m not a doctor. But I do know this don’t look right.” –made of wince

And the hilarious runners up! Let us have those too!

“You can tell that Olive’s parents are weird and distant because they don’t say goodbye to her as she leaves, they ‘observe’ her. ‘June 22, 10:24 AM: Subject is leaving the apartment to prepare baked goods with the elderly woman next door. Will copulate until she returns.'” –pugfuggly

“It actually makes sense that Lulu would recognize the ring Patty is wearing across the restaurant, since a lynx has excellent eyesight for hunting. What makes less sense is for a lynx to have fingers — but that’s life among grotesquely anthropomorphized animals!” –BigTed


“Shouldn’t Taurus blow his hippo whistle?” –Ned Ryerson

“I’m hoping that the all-night conversation between Abbott and the Gardias eventually turned to speculation about the sequel to The Chambers Affair and Randy and April come down to breakfast to find Alan seated at a typewriter, at gunpoint. These guys aren’t going to put up with any George R.R. Martin shit.” –cheech wizard

“You heard it here first, folks — even when he’s being hailed as the greatest artist of his generation, literally nobody could bring themselves to call Les ‘entertaining.'” –The Ben

“You’ve wasted your time creating a beautiful work of art, and you have my sympathy and pity for that. Anyway, enough business. Let’s kiss these mirrors while weeping openly. My secretary will give you some paper and a quill pen if you’d like to write poetry with your tears.” –Dan

“Nooo!!! This will just allow Les to come out with a ‘Directors Cut’ version of Lisa’s Story. Seemingly never ending, it will be like Das Boot with cancer.” –Mikey

“Chip gave his emoticon five chins, to emphasize that Ms. Blips has none. Cruel, really. ” –hogenmogen

“At that moment, Les had an epiphany. He knew now that there was only one way that Lisa’s Story would ever be produced. The answer was right in front of him. The words formed on his lips before he had time to regret them, and regret he almost certainly would: ‘What if I made Lisa into a cat?’ There was a pregnant pause. ‘And she gets better,’ he added mournfully.” –Guts Dozier

Throwing a fiery torch into the mouth of any animal is a good way to defeat it. That’s just basic Dungeon Master knowledge. As always, be wary of fire-based elemental creatures though, because you’d then actually grant them anywhere from +3 to +7 health.” –Chareth Cutestory

“I really hope this path toward even more amped-up bad-assery works its way into Mark Trail’s writing, spawning a new genre of full-immersion gonzo-wildlife journalism. ‘Maw of Flaming Death’ will only be the start. Once he goes full-on Dark Mark, I expect to see such feature articles as ‘Black Blood, White Gold: My Year As An Ivory Poacher,’ ‘The Bushmeat Diaries’ and ‘IT IS RUSTY! New Directions in Cryptozoology'” –Voyage of the Oversnark

‘I don’t understand any of this, Carol!’ It’s very simple, first there was an accident with a deer, and then you decided to take a faun back to the apartment, and then presumably got tired of deer shit covering your floor and bedding, so rather than calling an animal rehab facility, you took it out to a sketchy vet, who decided to heal your deep psychological problems by making you clean up animal shit without pay possibly as some sort of twisted BDSM farm fetish on his part, at which point his ‘girlfriend’ showed up and he ran off while she went shopping and got disgusted by people trying to be polite and make small talk with her … and look, I’m pretty sure this all ends with the ‘doctor’ and his ‘girlfriend’ turning you into a skin suit or a human centipede or something that will eventually make its way into a Hillbilly Serial Killer Art display in Margo’s gallery.” –Comrade Dread

Thanks a LOT, Mark — hippos hate the taste of human flesh. Now with that hippo’s taste buds burned away there will be no stopping the blood rampage.” –Patrick

The last two panels look like those computer-aged photos of kidnapping victims. ‘We think she may have started wearing headbands in captivity.'” –Joe Blevins

“I’m a little concerned that Jughaid brought his little friend out for a poetry recital on a craggy, black-rock precipice out over the tree-lined rocks below. I’m a little set back that all the waggle-tongue shenanigans in Hoot’n Holler are bracketed by operatic declarations of love in the shadow of Chernabog, Great Demon of Bald Mountain.” –Black Drazon

The keys open every bathroom in the city, but they won’t open the door on this chamber they’ve trapped us in. This white anechoic chamber. We can only hear ourselves. Even if we’re silent, we’ll hear each other’s heartbeats. Until we’re driven mad by the constant thumping and kill each other, finally alone in silence. And then the lone survivor will realize she can still hear a heartbeat, her own. This is the just punishment for our crimes.” –Voshkod

“Is Jughaid revealing the continuing oral traditions of Hootin’ Holler? Perhaps Robert Burns’ song ‘A Red, Red Rose’ travelled a long voyage from his native Scotland to the Americas, deep into the mountains. The new settlers, versed in their motherland’s art, passed along from generation to generation this folk song, which now became the crooning suitor’s love call, attracting the most available cousin with the least standards.” –sporknpork

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