perhaps
Original: perhaps on Saturday Morning Breakfast Cereal
Transcript
Panel 1 (a man with dark hair, speaking earnestly):
I think she... I think perhaps she'd like that, ever since dad passed away — god it's been 15, 16 years — she's become a kind of veil. Not a veiled face, the veil itself, the veil. Moving, turning, empty, dancing empty, and I don't think what she misses is the physicality of a partner exactly, but the lightness of intimacy, the way solid things float in the hands of lovers, and perhaps if someone could only lift the veil, hold it, stop its tired, tireless whirling, they would find the face so long absent.
Panel 2 (the dark-haired man):
I have to go now, you win.
Panel 3 (label): EARLIER...
A man with flame-like red hair, yelling: I'LL FUCK YOUR MOM, BITCH!
(The dark-haired man stands calmly, pointing at him.)
Votey:
The red-haired man yells: COME BACK, LIAR! COME BACK AND DO MY MOM!
I think she... I think perhaps she'd like that, ever since dad passed away — god it's been 15, 16 years — she's become a kind of veil. Not a veiled face, the veil itself, the veil. Moving, turning, empty, dancing empty, and I don't think what she misses is the physicality of a partner exactly, but the lightness of intimacy, the way solid things float in the hands of lovers, and perhaps if someone could only lift the veil, hold it, stop its tired, tireless whirling, they would find the face so long absent.
Panel 2 (the dark-haired man):
I have to go now, you win.
Panel 3 (label): EARLIER...
A man with flame-like red hair, yelling: I'LL FUCK YOUR MOM, BITCH!
(The dark-haired man stands calmly, pointing at him.)
Votey:
The red-haired man yells: COME BACK, LIAR! COME BACK AND DO MY MOM!
Alt text
A four-panel comic. In the first two panels, a calm dark-haired man in a suit delivers a long, poetic, philosophical monologue about how his mother has, since his father's death 15 or 16 years ago, become 'a kind of veil' — musing on intimacy, lovers, and lifting the veil to find 'the face so long absent.' He then flatly says, 'I have to go now, you win.' The third panel is labeled 'EARLIER...' and reveals what actually prompted this: a wild-eyed, flame-haired man screaming 'I'LL FUCK YOUR MOM, BITCH!' while the dark-haired man stands serenely and points at him. The joke is that the elaborate poetic speech was a deadpan 'win' in a crude insult exchange. The votey aftercomic shows a close-up of the flame-haired man shouting after him, 'COME BACK, LIAR! COME BACK AND DO MY MOM!'
Transcribed by Claude Opus 4.8.