your-grandfather
Original: your-grandfather on Saturday Morning Breakfast Cereal
Transcript
Panel 1:
King (handing a long object to a young man): SON, IT'S TIME FOR YOU TO TAKE THE SWORD WHICH MY FATHER GAVE TO ME.
Young man: IS THAT A LOAF OF BREAD?
Panel 2:
King: 'TIS SAID THAT IN TIMES GONE BY, YOUR GRANDFATHER FOUND AN ENTIRE BAGUETTE THAT'D BEEN LEFT UNDER A CAR SEAT.
Panel 3:
King: THERE, IT REMAINED FOR TEN THOUSAND DAYS, FROZEN BY WINTER, DESSICATED BY SUMMER, FORGED BY THE VERY ELEMENTS INTO UNIMAGINABLE HARDNESS.
Panel 4:
King: YOUR GRANDFATHER CARRIED IT BEYOND THE GRAY MOUNTAINS, TO THE LAND OF DWARVEN SWORDSMITHS. THERE, THEY TRIED TO MAKE FRENCH TOAST, OR MAYBE BREAD PUDDING, BUT THEIR FINEST BLADES SHATTERED IN THE ATTEMPT.
Panel 5:
King: AND NOW... I GIVE YOU... BREADSCALIBUR!
Young man: CAN WE AT LEAST PUT A COOL IRON HILT ON IT OR SOMETHING.
King: YES, BUT IT SHALL STILL LOOK STUPID.
Panel 6:
Another character: WAIT, IS YOUR SWORD MADE OF BREAD?
Young man: I WON, DIDN'T I?
Other character: IS YOUR SHIELD A TORTILLA?
Young man: GOD THIS SUCKS.
Votey:
(No dialogue.) A wordless drawing of a person standing in profile, holding the bread-sword out in front of them with one arm extended down the blade as if presenting it.
King (handing a long object to a young man): SON, IT'S TIME FOR YOU TO TAKE THE SWORD WHICH MY FATHER GAVE TO ME.
Young man: IS THAT A LOAF OF BREAD?
Panel 2:
King: 'TIS SAID THAT IN TIMES GONE BY, YOUR GRANDFATHER FOUND AN ENTIRE BAGUETTE THAT'D BEEN LEFT UNDER A CAR SEAT.
Panel 3:
King: THERE, IT REMAINED FOR TEN THOUSAND DAYS, FROZEN BY WINTER, DESSICATED BY SUMMER, FORGED BY THE VERY ELEMENTS INTO UNIMAGINABLE HARDNESS.
Panel 4:
King: YOUR GRANDFATHER CARRIED IT BEYOND THE GRAY MOUNTAINS, TO THE LAND OF DWARVEN SWORDSMITHS. THERE, THEY TRIED TO MAKE FRENCH TOAST, OR MAYBE BREAD PUDDING, BUT THEIR FINEST BLADES SHATTERED IN THE ATTEMPT.
Panel 5:
King: AND NOW... I GIVE YOU... BREADSCALIBUR!
Young man: CAN WE AT LEAST PUT A COOL IRON HILT ON IT OR SOMETHING.
King: YES, BUT IT SHALL STILL LOOK STUPID.
Panel 6:
Another character: WAIT, IS YOUR SWORD MADE OF BREAD?
Young man: I WON, DIDN'T I?
Other character: IS YOUR SHIELD A TORTILLA?
Young man: GOD THIS SUCKS.
Votey:
(No dialogue.) A wordless drawing of a person standing in profile, holding the bread-sword out in front of them with one arm extended down the blade as if presenting it.
Alt text
A medieval fantasy comic in SMBC's flat color style. A king on a throne ceremonially hands a long stale baguette to his young heir, presenting it as a legendary sword. Panel 1, king: "Son, it's time for you to take the sword which my father gave to me." The young man: "Is that a loaf of bread?" Over the next panels the king tells its epic origin: the grandfather found an entire baguette left under a car seat, where for ten thousand days it was frozen by winter and dessicated by summer, forged by the elements into unimaginable hardness; he carried it beyond the Gray Mountains to dwarven swordsmiths who tried to make it into French toast or bread pudding, but their finest blades shattered in the attempt. The king proclaims: "And now... I give you... BREADSCALIBUR!" The heir asks if they can at least put a cool iron hilt on it; the king replies, "Yes, but it shall still look stupid." In the final panel another character asks, "Wait, is your sword made of bread?" The heir: "I won, didn't I?" "Is your shield a tortilla?" Heir, defeated: "God this sucks." Votey: a simple wordless sketch of a person standing in profile, presenting the long bread-sword by holding it out at arm's length down the blade.
Transcribed by Claude Opus 4.8.