[[A man in an elaborate hat and leggings, WHIPSMARK, holding a book, speaks to a woman, BELDRA, peering through a lorgnette and holding a tiny dog.]]

WHIPSMARK: Did you just POST this about the late DINGO WOLFHEART?

WHIPSMARK: “Rest in poop to DUMBO WOLF FART. I’m glad he’s dead, but I’m sad I wasn’t there to watch it happen”
WHIPSMARK: “He will be mourned by other people who should ALSO all die soon. This is not a THREAT of any sort, simply a request to Santa Claus”

BELDRA: I have a bunch more in my drafts, if you’d care to see.
WHIPSMARK: I do NOT.

WHIPSMARK (sternly): Crass. Disrespectful. When I die, are you going to say terrible things about ME, too?

BELDRA: WELL
BELDRA (sliding into a smirking, gleeful side-eye): THAT DEPENDS

[[The dog side-eyes WHIPSMARK as well.]]

{{header: spend your days at WONDERMARK.COM}}

...I'm sad I wasn't there to watch it happen. I got stuck in traffic on the bridge on my way to the dookie factory, where he worked, and where he choked to death on dookie, sadly before I could get there. Whoops, character limit

Comic Transcripts

[[A man in an elaborate hat and leggings, WHIPSMARK, holding a book, speaks to a woman, BELDRA, peering through a lorgnette and holding a tiny dog.]]

WHIPSMARK: Did you just POST this about the late DINGO WOLFHEART?

WHIPSMARK: “Rest in poop to DUMBO WOLF FART. I’m glad he’s dead, but I’m sad I wasn’t there to watch it happen”
WHIPSMARK: “He will be mourned by other people who should ALSO all die soon. This is not a THREAT of any sort, simply a request to Santa Claus”

BELDRA: I have a bunch more in my drafts, if you’d care to see.
WHIPSMARK: I do NOT.

WHIPSMARK (sternly): Crass. Disrespectful. When I die, are you going to say terrible things about ME, too?

BELDRA: WELL
BELDRA (sliding into a smirking, gleeful side-eye): THAT DEPENDS

[[The dog side-eyes WHIPSMARK as well.]]

{{header: spend your days at WONDERMARK.COM}}

#1589; The Ol’ Scorny Mourny transcribed by Comic Transcript AuthorsDavid Malki ! in

Drawing: the vampires of west hollywood

Parking is insane in any major city, but in West Hollywood it’s particularly bad. It’s to the point now where it would actually be cheaper for me to buy a house just to get the residential parking pass, than to pay these constant tickets.

At the curb where I park, my commercial permit (‘I work in the city’) is good only until 7pm, when it becomes residential-only. Presumably, so residents can park in the precious spot I love to occupy. But THERE ARE NO HOUSES ON THIS STREET. And when I inevitably come sprinting, breathless, out to the curb at 7:24, having realized in the middle of a meeting what the clock portends, the street is invariably EMPTY. Save for my lonely little car. Kept company, I suppose, by the little piece of paper fluttering under the wiper.

And then the post office loses my check and I’m liable for late fees to the state. GOVERNMENT CONSPIRACY BLAH


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