2011-04-18
Original: 2011-04-18 on Saturday Morning Breakfast Cereal
Transcript
Panel 1: A man lies in bed in the dark, thinking.
Man (thought): MY ABDOMEN HURTS. OH GOD... MAYBE IT'S APPENDICITIS.
Panel 2: He sits up, shirtless, poking at his torso.
Man (thought): HMM... IT DOESN'T HURT UNDER PRESSURE, BUT MAYBE I'M NOT POKING HARD ENOUGH.
Panel 3: Close-up, his face contorted in pain against a red background.
Man: AAH!
Panel 4: He grimaces, sweating.
Man (thought): OKAY, THAT DEFINITELY HURTS. IT'S PROBABLY APPENDICITIS. I SHOULD CHECK AGAIN.
Panel 5:
Man (thought): OH NO. THE WHOLE AREA IS TENDER NOW. HOW DID THIS HAPPEN SO FAST?! MAYBE MY APPENDIX IS RUPTURED.
Panel 6:
Man (thought): OR IS IT BECAUSE I'VE BEEN POKING MYSELF... MAYBE THAT'S IT...
Panel 7: Against a red background, looking more frightened.
Man (thought): BUT WHAT IF THE NEW PAIN IS JUST MASKING THE OLD?!
Panel 8: His face in terror; beside him a black-and-white silhouette of him screaming.
Man: AAAAAAAAAH!
Panel 9: Two people in green shirts stand over the man, who lies still in bed. One wears a head mirror (a doctor) and holds a clipboard.
Doctor: DEAD ON ARRIVAL. HEART ATTACK.
Votey:
A man at a desk, writing/drawing, looks up in alarm.
Man: OH MY GOD... DO I HAVE CARPAL TUNNEL NOW?!
Man (thought): MY ABDOMEN HURTS. OH GOD... MAYBE IT'S APPENDICITIS.
Panel 2: He sits up, shirtless, poking at his torso.
Man (thought): HMM... IT DOESN'T HURT UNDER PRESSURE, BUT MAYBE I'M NOT POKING HARD ENOUGH.
Panel 3: Close-up, his face contorted in pain against a red background.
Man: AAH!
Panel 4: He grimaces, sweating.
Man (thought): OKAY, THAT DEFINITELY HURTS. IT'S PROBABLY APPENDICITIS. I SHOULD CHECK AGAIN.
Panel 5:
Man (thought): OH NO. THE WHOLE AREA IS TENDER NOW. HOW DID THIS HAPPEN SO FAST?! MAYBE MY APPENDIX IS RUPTURED.
Panel 6:
Man (thought): OR IS IT BECAUSE I'VE BEEN POKING MYSELF... MAYBE THAT'S IT...
Panel 7: Against a red background, looking more frightened.
Man (thought): BUT WHAT IF THE NEW PAIN IS JUST MASKING THE OLD?!
Panel 8: His face in terror; beside him a black-and-white silhouette of him screaming.
Man: AAAAAAAAAH!
Panel 9: Two people in green shirts stand over the man, who lies still in bed. One wears a head mirror (a doctor) and holds a clipboard.
Doctor: DEAD ON ARRIVAL. HEART ATTACK.
Votey:
A man at a desk, writing/drawing, looks up in alarm.
Man: OH MY GOD... DO I HAVE CARPAL TUNNEL NOW?!
Alt text
A nine-panel SMBC comic. A man lying in bed at night thinks his abdomen hurts and worries it might be appendicitis. Shirtless, he begins poking his own stomach to test it; it doesn't hurt under pressure, so he pokes harder until he cries 'AAH!' He concludes it definitely hurts now and is probably appendicitis, deciding to check again. His escalating anxious thoughts: the whole area is now tender (how did it happen so fast? maybe a ruptured appendix?), then a moment of doubt that the soreness is just from his own repeated poking, then renewed panic that the new pain might be masking the original pain. His face twists in terror as a stark black-and-white silhouette of him screams 'AAAAAAAAAH!' In the final panel, two people in green shirts, one a doctor with a head mirror and clipboard, stand over his motionless body and flatly declare: 'Dead on arrival. Heart attack.' The joke: his spiraling hypochondria about appendicitis distracted him entirely from the actual fatal heart attack. Votey aftercomic: a man at a desk looks up from writing in sudden alarm, exclaiming, 'Oh my God... do I have carpal tunnel now?!' — continuing the gag of inventing the next health worry.
Transcribed by Claude Opus 4.8.