I don’t often draw my characters on the beach, but damn it, they’ve been working really hard and could use the vacation. So here we are. At the beach.

Classic video games have very distinct smells. Q-Bert smells like cardboard boxes and Muppetflesh. Pac-Man smells like Kix cereal. And Dig Dug smells like topsoil and helium.

Anyone who has ever worked in an office environment knows that Fridays have an almost religious significance to the average cubicle drone. It’s so bad that the word “Friday” has developed all sorts of meanings: it’s a hello, a goodbye, an excuse, and a way of saying everything’s going to be fine. It’s also super, super annoying.

I’ve drawn a lot of really juvenile strips about poop, urine, and penises, but the number of fart-related comics I’ve drawn can be counted on one hand. So today I’m fixing all of that with a comic that’s eight panels of non-stop farting. Enjoy.

What better way to celebrate the independence of the United States than with a comic celebrating the cartoons I grew up with in its (arguably) greatest decade?!