transmitter
Original: transmitter on Saturday Morning Breakfast Cereal
Transcript
Panel 1:
Woman (brown hair, glasses): I finally had my brain replaced by a transmitter!
Panel 2:
Woman: It interfaces with millions of small computers that float around the environment.
Panel 3:
Woman: Now that my consciousness is offloaded, I can't be killed! So when I'm in an awkward situation, I automatically self-destruct, then join the ambient super-brain...
Panel 4:
Man (offscreen, on the right): Wait, what did that cost? I can't believe you bought this when you owe me $400 in rent!
Panel 5:
Woman: ...until a new body is printed for me!
Panel 6:
Woman: Oh uh, well I, the thing is that-
Panel 7:
A man walks down a street past the woman (now appearing red/silhouetted in the doorway).
Voice (from speech bubble): The future sucks.
Votey:
A cloud of smoke (the aftermath of the self-destruct) with two small eyes.
Text: tasty, though.
Woman (brown hair, glasses): I finally had my brain replaced by a transmitter!
Panel 2:
Woman: It interfaces with millions of small computers that float around the environment.
Panel 3:
Woman: Now that my consciousness is offloaded, I can't be killed! So when I'm in an awkward situation, I automatically self-destruct, then join the ambient super-brain...
Panel 4:
Man (offscreen, on the right): Wait, what did that cost? I can't believe you bought this when you owe me $400 in rent!
Panel 5:
Woman: ...until a new body is printed for me!
Panel 6:
Woman: Oh uh, well I, the thing is that-
Panel 7:
A man walks down a street past the woman (now appearing red/silhouetted in the doorway).
Voice (from speech bubble): The future sucks.
Votey:
A cloud of smoke (the aftermath of the self-destruct) with two small eyes.
Text: tasty, though.
Alt text
A seven-panel SMBC comic. A brown-haired woman in glasses excitedly explains to an off-screen man that she had her brain replaced by a transmitter that interfaces with millions of small floating computers. She brags that since her consciousness is offloaded she can't be killed, so in awkward situations she automatically self-destructs, joins an 'ambient super-brain,' and waits for a new body to be printed. The man interrupts to ask what it cost, complaining she bought it while owing him $400 in rent. Caught, she stammers 'Oh uh, well I, the thing is that-' and then self-destructs to escape the awkward moment, leaving a faint red silhouette in a doorway as a man walks past on a city street; a speech bubble reads 'The future sucks.' Votey (aftercomic): a small drifting cloud of smoke with two tiny eyes, captioned 'tasty, though.'
Transcribed by Claude Opus 4.8.