2007-02-24
Original: 2007-02-24 on Saturday Morning Breakfast Cereal
Transcript
Main comic (single panel):
A man in a lab coat and glasses (Dr. Stern), standing among other people at what appears to be a gathering, gestures animatedly while telling an exaggerated story. Speech bubbles around him represent his eulogy:
Dr. Stern: "AND THEN HIS HEAD EXPLODED!"
Dr. Stern: "BOOM! BLAM!"
Dr. Stern: "AND SNAKES FLEW OUT OF HIS BRAIN!"
Dr. Stern: "FWOOSH! FWOOSH! HISS! (oh no! snakes!) HISS! FWOOSH!"
Caption (below panel): Dr. Stern felt that "blood loss" was too boring of a eulogy.
Votey:
A hooded, skull-faced figure (Death) leans in toward someone off-panel, placing a bony hand to its chin in a gesture of grave seriousness.
Death: "OH MY DEAR BOY... THERE IS NOTHING COMMON ABOUT THIS COLD."
A man in a lab coat and glasses (Dr. Stern), standing among other people at what appears to be a gathering, gestures animatedly while telling an exaggerated story. Speech bubbles around him represent his eulogy:
Dr. Stern: "AND THEN HIS HEAD EXPLODED!"
Dr. Stern: "BOOM! BLAM!"
Dr. Stern: "AND SNAKES FLEW OUT OF HIS BRAIN!"
Dr. Stern: "FWOOSH! FWOOSH! HISS! (oh no! snakes!) HISS! FWOOSH!"
Caption (below panel): Dr. Stern felt that "blood loss" was too boring of a eulogy.
Votey:
A hooded, skull-faced figure (Death) leans in toward someone off-panel, placing a bony hand to its chin in a gesture of grave seriousness.
Death: "OH MY DEAR BOY... THERE IS NOTHING COMMON ABOUT THIS COLD."
Alt text
Single-panel comic. A man in a lab coat and glasses stands among other people and gestures dramatically as he delivers a wildly exaggerated story, shown in surrounding speech bubbles: 'And then his head exploded! Boom! Blam! And snakes flew out of his brain! Fwoosh! Fwoosh! Hiss! (oh no! snakes!) Hiss! Fwoosh!' A bystander beside him looks alarmed. Caption: 'Dr. Stern felt that "blood loss" was too boring of a eulogy.' The joke: Dr. Stern is jazzing up a dull cause of death into an absurd action sequence. Votey: A hooded, skull-faced figure of Death leans in with a bony hand to its chin, saying gravely, 'Oh my dear boy... there is nothing common about this cold.'
Transcribed by Claude Opus 4.8.