spandrels
Original: spandrels on Saturday Morning Breakfast Cereal
Transcript
Panel 1
Man (red hair): Are you familiar with the biological concept of spandrels?
Panel 2
Woman (dark hair): Like, characteristics of species that aren't especially adaptive, but which came into existence as a byproduct of the creation of a good adaptation?
Panel 3
Man: Yeah. Listen... I think our relationship has spandrels.
Panel 4
Man: Like, as part of my "seem interesting to Sally" adaptation, I started tending a plot in an urban organic garden. You claimed to be interested but were mostly excited by the idea that I was thoughtful and unusual.
Panel 5
Man: Now, we both manage a five by five plot of zucchini, even though we'd both rather watch TV, and we both hate zucchini.
Panel 6
Woman: My God.
Panel 7
Woman: I had assumed all the stuff we do together was for the benefit of our relationship. But, the spandrel theory explains so much-- the antiquing trips... the collaging classes... the novelty knitting projects...
Panel 8
Man: Do you actually like the martinis we started making together?
Panel 9
Man: I've been pouring them down the kitchen sink when you went to the bathroom.
Panel 10
Woman: I was pouring mine in the toilet.
Panel 11 (they smile at each other)
Panel 12
Woman: I love you, Todd.
Man: I love you, Sally.
Panel 13 (they kiss)
Panel 14 (caption): Every day for the next forty years.
(The couple sits together on a couch, the man on a tablet, the woman with a phone.)
Votey:
Man: Should we change our pants?
Woman: Why?
Man (red hair): Are you familiar with the biological concept of spandrels?
Panel 2
Woman (dark hair): Like, characteristics of species that aren't especially adaptive, but which came into existence as a byproduct of the creation of a good adaptation?
Panel 3
Man: Yeah. Listen... I think our relationship has spandrels.
Panel 4
Man: Like, as part of my "seem interesting to Sally" adaptation, I started tending a plot in an urban organic garden. You claimed to be interested but were mostly excited by the idea that I was thoughtful and unusual.
Panel 5
Man: Now, we both manage a five by five plot of zucchini, even though we'd both rather watch TV, and we both hate zucchini.
Panel 6
Woman: My God.
Panel 7
Woman: I had assumed all the stuff we do together was for the benefit of our relationship. But, the spandrel theory explains so much-- the antiquing trips... the collaging classes... the novelty knitting projects...
Panel 8
Man: Do you actually like the martinis we started making together?
Panel 9
Man: I've been pouring them down the kitchen sink when you went to the bathroom.
Panel 10
Woman: I was pouring mine in the toilet.
Panel 11 (they smile at each other)
Panel 12
Woman: I love you, Todd.
Man: I love you, Sally.
Panel 13 (they kiss)
Panel 14 (caption): Every day for the next forty years.
(The couple sits together on a couch, the man on a tablet, the woman with a phone.)
Votey:
Man: Should we change our pants?
Woman: Why?
Alt text
A multi-panel SMBC comic. A red-haired man asks a dark-haired woman if she's familiar with the biological concept of spandrels. She defines them: traits that aren't adaptive themselves but arise as byproducts of a real adaptation. He says he thinks their relationship has spandrels: to seem interesting to her (Sally), he took up an urban garden plot; she only pretended interest because she liked that he seemed thoughtful and unusual. Now they both tend a 5x5 zucchini plot they'd rather skip, hating zucchini. She is shocked ("My God."), realizing all their shared hobbies (antiquing, collaging, novelty knitting) were relationship spandrels. He admits he's been pouring out the martinis they make together down the sink; she confesses she pours hers in the toilet. They smile, say "I love you, Todd" and "I love you, Sally," and kiss. Final caption: "Every day for the next forty years," showing the couple decades later sitting on a couch absorbed in their separate devices. Votey aftercomic: in loose sketch style, the man asks "Should we change our pants?" and the woman replies "Why?"
Transcribed by Claude Opus 4.8.