transporter
Original: transporter on Saturday Morning Breakfast Cereal
Transcript
Panel 1:
Operator (a person with light spiky hair, gesturing at a console): Alright! One step into the teleporter...
Panel 2:
Customer (a person with dark flame-like spiky hair): How does it work again?
Panel 3:
Operator: We murder you, collect the remains, then quark them back into ya somewhere else.
Panel 4:
Customer (turning away): I might just take a shuttle.
Operator (calling after them): Luddite.
Votey:
The flame-haired customer leans over a console, peering at a button labeled "ACTIVATE" with a small worried word above it. A hand reaches toward the button.
Button: ACTIVATE
Small text above button: oops
Operator (a person with light spiky hair, gesturing at a console): Alright! One step into the teleporter...
Panel 2:
Customer (a person with dark flame-like spiky hair): How does it work again?
Panel 3:
Operator: We murder you, collect the remains, then quark them back into ya somewhere else.
Panel 4:
Customer (turning away): I might just take a shuttle.
Operator (calling after them): Luddite.
Votey:
The flame-haired customer leans over a console, peering at a button labeled "ACTIVATE" with a small worried word above it. A hand reaches toward the button.
Button: ACTIVATE
Small text above button: oops
Alt text
A four-panel SMBC comic set at a teleporter station. Panel 1: an operator with light spiky hair stands at a console saying "Alright! One step into the teleporter..." Panel 2: a customer with dark, flame-like spiky hair asks "How does it work again?" Panel 3: the operator cheerfully explains, "We murder you, collect the remains, then quark them back into ya somewhere else." Panel 4: the unsettled customer turns to leave, saying "I might just take a shuttle," and the operator mutters "Luddite" after them. The joke: refusing to be killed and reconstituted is framed as old-fashioned technophobia. Votey (bonus panel): a close-up of the flame-haired customer hovering over a console with a button reading "ACTIVATE" and a tiny worried "oops" written above it, a hand reaching toward the button.
Transcribed by Claude Opus 4.8.