Apologies to Bill Watterson on this one. I couldn’t resist. I had this idea while drawing last week’s comic. I shudder to think of the kind of person Calvin would grow up to be if his best friend growing up was Winslow instead of his tiger Hobbes.

It’s never too early to look ahead to fake-movie awards season! (No joke, I spent most of my college life looking forward to 2003 so The Lord of the Rings could finally win its collective Oscar and get it over with already. This is a little less early than that. Barely.) However, for movie enthusiasts,

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I want to know what exactly is a vegan? That’s a good question because there’s actually very little non-bias documentation of the vegan condition. I’ll admit it, whenever I hear the word “vegan,” I instinctively have happy thoughts of fluffy sheep and drumming circles and picnics and lesbian bookstores. And sweet potato fries … But

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This is a movie that doesn’t exist but probably should. It would make a suitable follow-up to my first movie, Cartoon Zombie Freakout (which also doesn’t exist).

I am a black American man who rides a scooter. Neighbors shout “Euro-Negro!” as I cruise through the hood on this un-American vehicle wearing slim-fit slacks and a cardigan made of cloned lamb’s wool available only from a top-secret facility in South Korea, and Urban Outfitters. Passing motorists laugh as I lean forward on the fragile machine and struggle to maintain a steady speed while riding up a steep hill. Worst of all, so-called friends mock my boasts of spending four dollars a week on gas with a simple but biting comeback, “You can’t put a price on your manhood.” But before you judge, let me tell you why I ride a scooter.