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[dejavroom]

Just to say I love panel 3, with Ray looking at his hands dripping, goofy but sinister hat all slant in his head, blank pensive expression... lovely, lovely. Also, on the sinisterness department, musings about how it's easier to buy Rorschach Beef with his goggles on - they keep you from seeing his eyes, those two slits that have a rather endearing feel to them.

Also, someone give lprkn a tiny can for the "vile spot" comment, quick ^^

[sOOp]

What's with the chicken wire and barbed wire, are the organizers afraid that the contestants will attack the Tenmen? And how does the band get off the stage?

Its to protect them from the flying beer bottles. It worked for The Blues Brothers, it will work for the Tenmen. I imagine the Tenmen sound like a cross between Shadowy Men From a Shadowy Planet, Man Or Astroman?, Tom Waits (esp Blood Money) and Nick Cave. A very listenable instrumental surf sound with just enough creepy mixed in to make it interesting.

[CortJstr]

Its to protect them from the flying beer bottles. It worked for The Blues Brothers, it will work for the Tenmen. I imagine the Tenmen sound like a cross between Shadowy Men From a Shadowy Planet, Man Or Astroman?, Tom Waits (esp Blood Money) and Nick Cave. A very listenable instrumental surf sound with just enough creepy mixed in to make it interesting.

No imagining necessary.

[sensate]

What if Beef is lying? What if that guy was not Cody Travis but just some cowboy-hatted macho dude, now horribly disfigured for life... possibly dead! I don't think it's something Beef would do, but it does strike me as I read the strip as something that could happen, with slightly different characters, a slightly different feel to the strip. Though, things are certainly different lately.

Interesting. I don't see why Beef wouldn't do it, though. Notwithstanding whatever genius twist Onstad comes up with, there are two options how this turns out: Ray (Beef?) cruises to a championship, or they get stomped, possibly fatally. Not that Beef is showing any signs of wavering, but it is interesting that his eyes haven't been visible from the get-go. Failure is not an option, and everything is permissible.

[JorgeFabregas]

What if Beef is lying? What if that guy was not Cody Travis but just some cowboy-hatted macho dude, now horribly disfigured for life... possibly dead! I don't think it's something Beef would do, but it does strike me as I read the strip as something that could happen, with slightly different characters, a slightly different feel to the strip. Though, things are certainly different lately.

I considered the same thing as well.

[Bobby Isosceles]

I considered the same thing as well.

Having understood the healing power of self-delusion, Beef is just pulling the Samuel H. Invisible wool over Ray's eyes to soften the blow.

[Bobby Isosceles]

Boo to that.

Education.

[Golfhaus]

I feel better now.

Please do not cancel my subscription.

[HonkyTonkHooker]

man..the tenmen

[robot_god]

OHHHHHHH MANNN, that is the bottom of Ray's foot! (in the first panel)

And I went to sleep last night thinking that this strip suggests the entire arc is a dream, because the first panel was a hallucination in which Ray perceived his right leg as amputated.  But it seems today that it simply his foot in perspective.

Nonetheless, the arc still seems like Ray's dream; an odd tug of war between success and dependence.

[wombat]

Dearest Q,

Since Uncle has found our secret mailbox, I leave you this note in this strange place where many mysterious missives are posted for all to see.  As he cannot read a full page without falling into a drunken stupor, I trust that he will not persist in perusing these pages until he discovers our communication.

Q, I hardly know where to begin to tell you of my recent revelations - After my narrow escape from the frightening game, the mustache'd man led me to a church where I sought shelter from the beasts of the night.  I lay upon the cold stone, bereft of sleep for thinking of your continued suffering at the hands of our Uncle.  As I drew your cloak close around me and breathed in your sweet scent, my gaze fell upon a volume.  I stood, planning to examine the pages within, hoping to find distraction if not the impossible surcease from sorrow.

As I did so, I chanced to face a certain stained glass window and felt a strange familiarity.  Out of the mists of time came a memory of our sainted mother.  Q, she had taken us to this very church when we were young, and told us that this was where we had both been baptized.

My steps quickened at this thought and I reached for the dusty tome.  It was, as I thought, the birth records of the parish.  I turned the pages in haste, thinking of the comfort of seeing our dear parents' names written therein.

But Q, when I found our entries - I can hardly write the words - I found that we have been deceived.  I trust that they had their reasons, that they would never have meant to cause us pain, but they lied.  Q, we are not brother and sister. 

No longer caring to conceal my presence in the church, in a frenzy I sought out the aged priest.  He explained that our parents had adopted you when your mother, a young woman with no man to care for her, had died in childbirth.

I felt a strange joy at this revelation.  Q, my darling, this changes everything, doesn't it?  Please, we must find a means to release you from the foul clutches of Uncle.  More than ever, I cannot wait until you are at my side.
Your devoted
W

[Hobot]

The plot, she thickens!

[misterqueue]

Dearest Q,

<Letter>
W

Dearest W,

Uncle Hermann has seen fit to outfit me in the attic with a rather large supply of maggoty ship's biscuits.  He states that he will keep me locked in here but provided with food and warmth so long as I am not too loud.  He has of course, sewn my lips together in an effort to inspire me to the level of silence he desires.  I await until I hear him fraught with gin and deep in a snoring sleep before I hobble over to the barrel and crumble the biscuits to fit them in between each stitch.  The crumbs often run down my gown making me itchy, but it is all I can do to keep warm.

Two nights prior, Uncle Hermann bounded up the stairs with that disturbing grunt of a noise he calls laughter.  He was sporting a massive pipe filled with something that smelled not unlike soap.  As I was still tied up, he sat before me and smoked this foul device; blowing in my face all the while.  I coughed and sputtered, the putrid stench of his sweet rotten fruit smelling breath mixing with the soapy substance, I shudder merely to remember it.  As I inhaled the heady mixture I saw naught but horrifying images.

I saw you in a church and a priest of lies spilling foulness into your tender ears.

I saw the miles between us tear themselves apart and the cries of a thousand filling the night with a loss that none shall bear lightly.

I saw the Dragon, his maw hungry for my frail form as I stumbled from Uncle's cabin; my escape surely lost.

And the last I saw hurt the most, I dare not write it for fear of solidifying these horrible visions.  Just please, give up your quest if you can read this; find somewhere else, think no longer of me for I am already gone.

-Q

[sOOp]

No imagining necessary.

That ruined it for me. I thought those songs were terrible and souless.

[Mr. Gary]

K-mart is proud to present Cody Travis: The Cold Got My Face Ripped Off Tour 2006.