Los Angeles, 1995.  I’m in a Hancock Park mansion for three marathon days working on a low-budget mafia/vampire/zombie flick starring an ex-Playboy Playmate and an actor who’s been dead for more than a year.  My pay: $75 a day.  My position: props/art department.  The fact I’ve never worked with props or art department is never discussed.

Today’s comic was drawn for a friend. She had an idea for a cartoon after the topic of “perfection” came up during some training with her coworkers, so she sent me the script and asked if I would sketch something up. The original strip was the first three panels–basically a positive statement about accepting the fact that perfection isn’t always a healthy or viable goal all the time. But this is me, right?

Dear Customer Relations,

I am writing you regarding the frozen H. Habilis I recently purchased from your store. While I admit I would be hard pressed to find a more apt section for such a product than Frozen Novelties, generally one assumes that such items are made from ice-cream or a similar substance. Indeed, this is precisely the assumption I made, and while I wondered what exactly to do with an ice-cream model of H. Habilis, such a large quantity of ice-cream available at only 99.99 was difficult to turn down. Imagine my surprise then, when I went to section my purchase so he might fit in my freezer and discovered that this was a living (or formerly living) creature of flesh and blood.

There’s been a virus going around, folks. Not the one you’re thinking about; this one turns your belongings into fighting robots. Known as the “Cybertronic Flu,” the disease has mainly been centered on Ben and Winslow’s house. So maybe “going around” isn’t an accurate statement.

Hello everyone,

You’ve all voiced concerns about my new girlfriend, Jules. While I appreciate your desire to insinuate yourselves into my personal business, I can assure you that Jules is amazing.

I’ll admit, I didn’t know she was a cannibal at first. She doesn’t like to use that word because of how society has stigmatized it. Her profile said she was an anthropophagist, which I thought meant she was a professor or something. We both had a good laugh about that.