But what are the mysteries of life? The little peccadillos that make us who we are and the nuances that create all the world around us? How did such beauty and glorious creation come about?
Why do we all feel so small in this tiny moment of time we call life? Why are we here? Where did I come from? What is my purpose? Can I ever be truly happy?
May Day Riots, Brixton. Our calm, mild-mannered hero loses the plot a little.
Down, down, down with the fascism! Get lost pig! I ain't going anywhere! I have every right to be in this caption! You fascist bullyboy! You can take me down, but you won't get us all!
Right, sir...
A little bit further...
Don't touch me! I'll sue your ass! This is anarchy pig! You hear! Anarchy! Down with the system! Down with the fuzz! Down with Govenrment! Down with law! We rule now!!
Right, sir. I'm waiting....
There we go. Melodrama in full effect.
Aaaargh! Damn this fascism! I can't take it any more! Show no mercy! Become the martyr!
"So there I was, minding my own busines. The drinks were going down well, the ladeez were giving out all the moves. The night was young, and I didn't want to go home lonely..."
"Then this little chickee walks over, and just falls into my arms. I couldn't believe my luck. I took her home, and had my wicked way with this swooning love bird..."
Hello. It's become aware to many of us around BFEnterprises that the maker of this royal crap has been absent. Again.
Well, we'd like to apologise. We're really sorry. We would like to make you new and imaginative comics! But my stumpy hands just can't grasp at crayons...
Ahhhh.....who am I kidding. You lot wouldn't bloody read them anyway. Ingrates!