the-event
Original: the-event on Saturday Morning Breakfast Cereal
Transcript
Credit line (top): Writing by Zach Weinersmith Art by Abby Howard
The comic intercuts two scenes: a gas-mask-wearing survivor in a ruined post-apocalyptic wasteland delivering a grim monologue, and an ordinary man slumped asleep at an office desk.
Panel 1 (survivor, in the ruins): "Before... the event, I was a perpetual temp. Mostly data entry. I don't think I knew why I did anything."
Panel 2 (survivor, walking through rubble): "A lot of it was just legal compliance for large corporations, I think."
Panel 3 (survivor): "Now, all I do is survive. My goal each day is to find 1500 calories and not get killed."
Panel 4 (survivor): "I wake up every day with purpose, with my senses operating at peak capacity. By god this is living."
Panel 5 (survivor lunges with a knife; a jagged "STAB" sound effect): "I'm sorry, comrade. My family needs your possessions."
Panel 6 (survivor crouched over a fallen body): "I never thought I'd understand death, but now I see it with animal clarity."
Panel 7 (survivor): "To be killed with mercy and love is—"
Scene shifts to an office. A man (the boss, with glasses and a mustache) leans in toward the sleeping desk worker.
Boss: "Hey hey hey."
Boss: "You're asleep, man."
The desk worker (the survivor, now revealed to be the dozing office employee) wakes up groggily.
Boss: "I know you're done with today's stuff, but I can't have MY boss see you not pretending to work."
Boss: "Get a coffee."
The worker shuffles off down the office hallway toward the break room.
Final panel: close on the worker's face, half-smiling, as a mushroom-cloud / fiery explosion is reflected or imagined behind him—his daydream of the apocalyptic wasteland where life had meaning.
Votey:
Hand-lettered caption above a loose sketch of a content, dreamy face: "The future is so wonderful."
The comic intercuts two scenes: a gas-mask-wearing survivor in a ruined post-apocalyptic wasteland delivering a grim monologue, and an ordinary man slumped asleep at an office desk.
Panel 1 (survivor, in the ruins): "Before... the event, I was a perpetual temp. Mostly data entry. I don't think I knew why I did anything."
Panel 2 (survivor, walking through rubble): "A lot of it was just legal compliance for large corporations, I think."
Panel 3 (survivor): "Now, all I do is survive. My goal each day is to find 1500 calories and not get killed."
Panel 4 (survivor): "I wake up every day with purpose, with my senses operating at peak capacity. By god this is living."
Panel 5 (survivor lunges with a knife; a jagged "STAB" sound effect): "I'm sorry, comrade. My family needs your possessions."
Panel 6 (survivor crouched over a fallen body): "I never thought I'd understand death, but now I see it with animal clarity."
Panel 7 (survivor): "To be killed with mercy and love is—"
Scene shifts to an office. A man (the boss, with glasses and a mustache) leans in toward the sleeping desk worker.
Boss: "Hey hey hey."
Boss: "You're asleep, man."
The desk worker (the survivor, now revealed to be the dozing office employee) wakes up groggily.
Boss: "I know you're done with today's stuff, but I can't have MY boss see you not pretending to work."
Boss: "Get a coffee."
The worker shuffles off down the office hallway toward the break room.
Final panel: close on the worker's face, half-smiling, as a mushroom-cloud / fiery explosion is reflected or imagined behind him—his daydream of the apocalyptic wasteland where life had meaning.
Votey:
Hand-lettered caption above a loose sketch of a content, dreamy face: "The future is so wonderful."
Alt text
A SMBC comic (writing by Zach Weinersmith, art by Abby Howard) that intercuts a grim post-apocalyptic monologue with a mundane office. A gas-mask-wearing survivor wanders a ruined, rubble-strewn city narrating: before 'the event' he was a perpetual temp doing meaningless data entry and legal compliance, but now all he does is survive—find 1500 calories a day and not get killed. He says he wakes with purpose and senses at peak capacity: 'by god this is living.' He stabs another person (a jagged 'STAB' effect), saying 'I'm sorry, comrade. My family needs your possessions,' and reflects that he now understands death 'with animal clarity'—'to be killed with mercy and love is—.' The scene cuts to a drab office: a mustached boss with glasses leans over a man asleep at his desk, saying 'Hey hey hey... you're asleep, man,' then 'I know you're done with today's stuff, but I can't have MY boss see you not pretending to work. Get a coffee.' The exhausted worker—revealed to be the daydreaming survivor—shuffles down the office hall. The final panel closes on his face wearing a faint, wistful smile as a fiery mushroom-cloud explosion blooms behind him, his fantasy of an apocalypse that would make life feel meaningful. Votey: a loose sketch of a dreamy, contented face under the hand-lettered caption 'The future is so wonderful.'
Transcribed by Claude Opus 4.8.