We Need A New Monster: Part 1

We all know the plot.

A maiden is asleep in her bed, her room illuminated by a sliver of moon. She’s beautiful and clad in a prim white nightshirt, which is unbuttoned just enough to reveal the smooth line of her throat. There’s a sudden stir in the air and a young man appears. He’s pale, his dark hair is unruly and probably contains enough gel to grease an ’57 Chevy. He moves towards the maiden, his feet soundless on the carpet.
Her eyes open as his shadow falls across her and her scream is stifled by his hand over her mouth.

“Don’t be frightened,” he whispers, as he leans over.

She nods and he releases her.

“Now then,” he begins. “I’m here-“

“Yes,” she interrupts. “Blah, blah, blah. Make with the biting.” She pulls her nightshirt open and curves her head away.

“Pardon?”

“Go ahead. Bite me and then we can fall in love, agonize over various moral choices for a while, and eventually you’ll turn me into a vampire and we’ll live happily ever after.”

“Ummm, that’s not-“

She sits up. “Look. Either you bite me right now or I’ll tell everyone that you tried to steal my underwear.”

“But-“

“But nothing. C’mon, let’s get to it. Or should I scream?”

“No! No. That’s quite all right. I’ll bite you, if that’s what you want. It’s just . . . can you answer a question first?”

“What’s that?”

He paused, pulling a piece of paper from his pocket and unfolding it. “Is this 1226 South Cooper Street? I saw your ad on Craigslist and I wanted to pick up the free mattress.”


***

What we need is a new monster. Vampires have just been done to death (pun intended). They were ugly for a long time, as in Nosferatu, and then Bela Lugosi made them suave in Dracula. Frank Langella made them sexy in the ‘70s. Anne Rice made them angsty in the ‘80s, and Stephanie Meyers has made them shiny. Next, someone will come up with vampires who cry rainbows while tending to orphaned animals.

NOTE TO SELF: Write a book about handsome, angsty, suave humanitarian vampires who care deeply about the environment.

Honestly, we need a new monster, something that will strike fear and terror in the hearts of men and yet be kinda sexy. Werewolves are too hairy. Demons are too close to vampires. Frankenstein-style monsters aren’t good-looking enough.

Therefore, I nominate mummies.

Next Week: Part 2

Fear No More!

I have had yet another brilliant idea. It occurred to me when I was talking to Leigh today, so I will thank him when I receive the Nobel Peace Prize. He will no doubt be honored that I remembered him on such a grand occasion.

So, without further ado . . .

Tell me, what is the #1 most worrisome issue for the world today? What is the one concern that every politician addresses? What is it that keeps men, women, and most internet bloggers up at night, their arms wrapped around their Friendly Huggy Bear with Kung-Fu Grip for safety?

No, it’s not nuclear war. Or terrorism. Or fluoridated drinking water. Or Lady Gaga’s current ensemble.

Its zombies.

That’s right, we’re all afraid of the zombie hordes that will inevitably crash upon civilization like a smelly tsunami with a thirst for brains. Even if they’re slow zombies, we won’t be able to get away from the slowly plodding mass of newly risen dead. They are relentless. Nigh unstoppable.

But they have one weakness: shoelaces.

That’s right. We tie their shoelaces together. They’re not smart enough to untie them and even fast zombies will be reduced to crawling slowly across the fields and interstates of the world, as we easily stay ahead of them. This will allow us time to assemble our defenses, make large stacks of rocks for throwing, and even nip down to the local convenience store to buy energy drinks so we are better able to fight off the pathetically crawling hordes.

Honestly, we could just pile into our trucks and SUVs and run them over.
“Brilliant!” I can hear you shouting. “Yet, how do we tie their shoelaces together if they are already coming after us?”

Simple. When someone is buried, we simply make it a law that all morticians must tie the deceased’s shoelaces together before internment. It’s that easy. Eventually, given a few years, all the dead will be so dealt with and we will be free to continue consuming massive amounts of high fructose corn syrup without having to worry about outrunning a bunch of dead people.

I’ll be accepting my award now.

Cheers,
-Jason

Punch Buggy

Some of you may have seen the new series of Volkswagen ads featuring the ‘punch buggy’ phenomenon. For those of you who have no clue what I’m talking about (and generally, most people don’t) ‘Punch Buggy’ is when you see a Volkswagen and punch the person you’re with in the shoulder.

NOTE: I have no idea what you do if you’re with several people and see a Volkswagen. Do you hit everyone? This isn’t so bad if you’re in a small group, but what if you’re on a bus? Should you strike each and every person? Seriously, what’s the etiquette on this? I’d hate to be the only one who doesn’t know.

Now, my sister and I didn’t do this when we were kids. Oh, we hit each other plenty, along with grabbing, hair pulling, biting, kneeing, left and right hooks, bludgeoning with frozen fish, and once she gave me a black eye with a Barbie doll. Honestly, I never thought Ken had it in him . . .

But to get back on point, the whole ‘Punch Buggy’ thing is a relatively new thing for me and frankly, it has me a bit worried. I mean, what comes next? Stabbing Hondas? Throttling Cadillacs? Knock-Them-Down-and-Then-Deliver-A-Vicious-Kicking Fords? Make-Out Toyotas? Well, okay, Make-Out Toyotas might not be that bad, depending on whom you were with.

And how exactly did this start? Was it some sort of government conspiracy in mind-control? A frat tradition that just got out of hand? Was there some psychotic who triggered when he saw a Volkswagen and others thought it was funny? Or could it be some sort of alien plot to slowly condition us to violence, so they can use us as cannon fodder in an intergalactic war for supremacy?

Huh. That actually sounds really cool. If they gave me space armor and a plasma rifle, I would probably do it regardless . . .

But I digress.

Once again, someone needs to get to the bottom of this. I hereby re-re-repropose that the government give me several billion dollars to start a Super Science Team composed of myself and at least five female model/scientists so that we can get to the bottom of this.

Oh, and the model/scientists have to be single. And like men with hairy backs.

Cheers,
-Jason

Stupidly Busy

As the title implies, Leigh and I have been stupidly busy here at Single Edge Studios. We're trying to finish up our trade by this weekend and there have been the usual stumbling blocks. We can't find a file. We don't have the right printing quotes. Our page count is off. The ninjas keep attacking.

Yeah, the ninjas have been a pain. It seems that they will stop at nothing to prevent us from publishing our trade. They keep shouting something about a 'prophecy' and 'end of the world' and 'free burritos' or something as they attack. We keep trying to interrogate them afterwards, but it's hard to talk after you've been bludgeoned with a crowbar.

Leigh keeps telling me not to hit them so hard, but I can't help it. I get excited.

Anyway, we should have good news next week, assuming the ninjas don't manage to critically injure Leigh's drawing hand.

And, of course, there's only about a month left until we start updating again! Hint: Lily and Iri go shopping!

Cheers,
-Jason

A Suggestion

Now, I'm not going to name any names, but just because you can make a commercial with CG mice wearing jackets and singing the praises of a particular car, doesn't mean you should make a commercial with CG mice wearing jackets and singing.

Also, why were the boy mice wearing jackets and no pants, but the girl mice were topless and wearing skirts?

Remember, with CG comes great responsibility.

Anyway, it's a three day weekend! Which I'm going to spend working on the trade! By myself! In my cold, dingy apartment!

Well, it's not that bad. Leigh and I have been working very hard to finish up our trade paperback. We've relettered all six books, Leigh's touched up a number of panels, I've added a few things, and Leigh's created a bunch of new illustrations just for the trade. We're in the home stretch and we can see first base at the end of the field goal. Or something.

I suck at sports analogies.

Also, happy birthday to my nephew James, who's turning 4 this weekend. His favorite Superhero is Captain America, so I'm gonna see if I can find him something age appropriate.

Everyone have a fun and safe weekend.

Cheers,
-Jason

Who Am I Kidding?

A female friend of mine came over the other day and happened to look in my refrigerator. Please note that I specifically warned her not to. “Hi,” I said as she walked in the door. “Make yourself at home, but whatever you do, don’t look in the fridge.”

Of course, she did.

I remember it like it was yesterday, as it was in fact, yesterday. I was at my computer, downloading something that would shock my mother if she knew I was looking at it (it was an old clip of the Muppet Show – jeez, get your minds out of the gutter) when I heard a shriek. It wasn’t the kind of high warbling shriek that occurs when one of the ninjas steps on one of my patented ‘Crotch Killer’ booby traps, but the shriek of a woman who has been confronted with a terror beyond the ken of mortal men.

NOTE: You know those old cartoons where the boxing glove pops out on a spring? The ‘Crotch Killer’ is like that, but instead of a boxing glove, there’s a 10-pound dumbbell. And instead of a spring, there’s a pneumatic hammer. I leave the rest to your fertile imaginations.

“Are you all right?” I called out.

“What the hell’s in your fridge!” she said.

“Uhhhhh, stuff.” I didn’t actually know, seeing as I hadn’t opened my fridge in about six months. For those of you with decent memories, Fridgey no longer lives in the fridge. He now lives in the bathtub, where he has plenty of room to play.

It was then that I heard the sound of a flame thrower being lit. By the time I got out there, she had torched everything in there. Then she left and came back with groceries. Which she put in the fridge.

So now I have a clean fridge and it contains actual foodstuffs. The problem is that I’m not quite sure what to do with all the food. Well, obviously I’m supposed to eat it, but I only know how to make two kinds of food: there’s the food that comes out of a box and goes into a bowl and the food that comes out of a can and goes into a bowl. Sometimes, I microwave it after it’s in the bowl, but that’s only when I’m feeling energetic.

She put a bunch of stuff that I didn’t recognize, much less know how to prepare. There’s a carton with a picture of some sort of fruit (maybe a vegetable) on it. There’s little round white things. A sealed plastic tray may contain some sort of meat. And then there’s that drawer filled with green leafy stuff. If I remember correctly, sometimes it’s put on a hamburger.

Mayhap I’ll whip up a grand feast and actually eat more than one food group in a sitting. I seem to recall a ‘Food Pyramid’ from my youth that suggested this was a good idea.

Nah, who am I kidding? I’ll eat some of it and then forget it’s there and not open the fridge for another couple months.

Who knows, maybe Fridgey will get a friend?

Cheers,
-Jason

Spokane Comic-Con 2010: After Action Report

Well, the 2010 Spokane Comic-Con has come and gone. It was a good time and notable in that we had a special guest come with us. Leigh’s lovely wife Laura came with us, braving not only the wilds of Eastern Washington, but also the five-hour drive it took to get us there.

All in all, a lovely time was had by everyone.

The con itself went well. To our right were the fine gentlemen from the Eisner-nominated PX! webcomic. Lars Brown of Northworld was to our left, Darkslinger Comics was behind us, as was Black Box Comix. In addition, our con-buddies and amazing artists Jason Metcalf and Randy Kintz were there, as was Brian Randolph from the very worthy Hero Initiative. Across from us was Eric Trautmann, acclaimed DC writer and all-around nice guy. I also met the fine folks from Saving Jericho, who are trying to get their show back on the air. In addition, our friends from Creator’s Edge Press were there, trying to make the world a better place for independent comics. I also met Cari Corene who writes and draws Toilet Genie (go read it, seriously) and we promised to read each other’s comics.

We had a fun day and then went to a party where many of the above attended, where many drinks were drunk and at least one Tuskan Raider imitation was performed.

Needless to say, we’ll be going again next year.

Cheers,
-Jason