The ladder wobbled. Hugo reached for the climbing rose, lost balance and whump, landed on something firm but invisible several feet above the lawn. His secateurs landed beside him. Stunned, he looked around.

Birds still sang. Flowers bloomed. The cat slunk past. Nothing had changed, except his back garden had grown an invisible surface four feet above the lawn and one step from the ladder.

Homeroom just ended. Me and Veronica were talking about prom stuff. She wanted to wear that red dress, even though it was cheap and store-bought. I guess it complimented her hair, which was also cheap and store-bought. Ever the diplomat, I tried to persuade her to stick to solid black. It’s slimming, especially in the hip area. But I couldn’t exactly make any hip area comments to her face. I mean, could you imagine? I would totally sound catty.

Winslow and Kurt’s research isn’t wrong. I was watching a bunch of old science fiction movies with the crew of the Satellite of Love recently, and space is definitely filled with beautiful women. But let’s be honest: in the Ben & Winslow universe there are some very important rules that should be followed at all times. First, never wear a green shirt. Second, never eat anything Winslow makes. And third, never do anything Reya the Misanthrope suggests.

I am in search of someone who would be willing to shake my hand. As an unemployed potential employee, I read in an article that a firm handshake is “the key to success.” Now, here are some things you need to know before you respond/apply: I have nice hands that I keep very clean by

[continue reading…]

Last week I drew Winslow at the beach, separated from his body. Now his body has wandered off without the rest of him, probably to get more ice cream. But really, the only reason this strip exists is because I wanted to draw Winslow’s head strapped to the top of Little Winslow’s head.