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Everything Jake. Saturday and Sunday Strip 663 and 664 Jake lit a cigarette as he walked back to his dorm after deciding he really didn't want to be at that bar anymore. It was a dark and foggy night, which didn't really bother him too much. He liked the way everything looked in a fog, especially the lights that lined the path he was on. It was as though you could just swim through the air and never really have to take the shape of anything, just... just... there was a figure, walking toward him, but through the murky soup of the air, Jake couldn't tell anything but that someone was walking toward him, and fast. The figure passed under one of the lights, and Jake saw that it was a female, and one with a very nice body at that. All sorts of stuff came into his mind at that point. Wow, chance meeting in the fog, who would have thunk it? Maybe she'll just see me and we'll do it right here and now on the path, or maybe she has a nice place not too far off where we could go and just-- just-- fuck all night, like animals or someshit. But, it all depends on what I say to her as we pass, or else she might not know what a life changing night she has in store for her. It has to be clever, yet sexy. It has to show that I'm a strong guy, but yet sensitive. It has to be something that would make her drop her-- "PANTS!!" "Excuse me?" "Um... wanna fool around?!?" "Ew! Not with you, girlie hair." And that was Jake's penthouse letter. "Bitch." "WHAT?! What did you say, you fag?!?" "N-nothing... why are you running after me!? I didn't say anything...!" "I'm going to beat you down, you stupid little twerp mother fucking blond haired little fag two faced lying cheating son of a fuck!" "Stop... stop... please stop, I'm... I'm so-" It wasn't that when she hit him he actually felt it, he didn't, and it wasn't the force of the punch that knocked him into the bushes. It was that he was running and he tripped over a root he didn't see because of the fog. CRASH. Right into a shrubbery. Might as well just stay here, he thought, until she leaves. Ten minutes later, who should walk by but Kelly and Brian. Of course, they see Jake, asses up in a bush. "Kelly, why is it that everytime we hang out with that kid he ends up in a tree?" "Jake... what the hell happened?" * * * * * Megoth sat down, slowly. The sweet smoky smell of the clove filled his nostril. Whoever this girl was on this bench, he thought, he would always remember her by the smell of a clove cigarette. The sat for a little bit, her smoking, him being nervous. He decided that he would talk first, since he may never ever get a chance like this again. "Grant Morrison." She looked over to him and smiled from only one half her mouth. Megoth at first thought this was weird. But as they spoke and she smiled her half mouth smile, he liked it more and more. "Yeah, New X-Men 122." "I think it was 123, but I could be wrong." "No, you're probably right. But, good call, I told myself before I left that I would quote Grant Morrison all night and the first person that would catch me I would marry." "I... I... say... I say that all... all the time." "So I guess we have to get married, unnamed stranger." "Pleased... pleased to meet you, Mrs. Stranger." "You too, Mr. Stranger. But you're going to have to call me Melinda Stranger, okay, because Mrs. Stranger is your mom." "And Mr. Stranger is my... my dad. Call me Me-- Chris. Call me Chris." "You stutter." "You have pink hair." "But I can change my hair color. Have you... always? I mean, I'm don't mean to put you on the spot, but my sister is a really good speech therapist, I could have her see what she could do... if you want... I mean, we are going to be married for a while..." "Actually, it's not really as bad as you think. Most of the time I use it for dramatic effect anyway." "Ah. Gotcha." In the fog, the wonderful, thick, hazy fog she still was the most beautiful girl Chris had ever laid his eyes on. It wasn't that she was pretty like Britney or some super model, it was that her face was interesting, not perfect. She was wearing too much eye make-up for his tastes, but he liked it. Her eyes were brown, he liked blue, but he liked her brown. Her hair was pink. How would he take her home to mom when she had pink hair? He then, after as moment or two of silence, realized he should speak again. "But... But thank you, Mrs. Melinda Stranger, I would speak to your sister again if you think she could help me." "Okay, cool. So, tell me about yourself, Christopher Stranger, where ya from and how long have ya been going to that stupid bar...?" (copyright 2002 mike rosenzweig) there will be no april fool's day comic this year, but there will be a comic tomorrow.    
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EVERYTHING JAKE is TM & (C) 2000-2011 by Mike Rosenzweig. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
