As those who knew me back then can attest, I was a certified bonafide FREAK. And, as a freak, I had three hard-fast rules that I lived by:
- Always know your dealer
- Don't get high on your own supply
- And, when cartooning an action scene, haphazardly scribble a bunch of shit and get back to tokin' up ya dig.
Charlie the Dog whizzes past a cannabis-impaired drawing of a football scrimmage (causing utter panic in a football player who just moments before had survived a limb-melting massacre of genocidal proportions), while Mark, who heroically refuses to let go of the leash, flies by as well. Then, ha ha, Greg runs after them. Our nameless No. 49 then makes a droll comment on the proceedings. Alex Karras was never this funny on Webster. NEVER.
Another jolly folly, indeed. But I direct your attention to the sinister face staring out from the lightly-suggested scrum-pile.
Not that I'm implying a conspiracy or anything, but could the face be a portent of evil sent from the future by the devil, or cyborgs, or cyborgs who dress up like the devil??
*puts down doobie* Okay, I think I've had enough.
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