All comics by thoroughly

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by thoroughly
3-02-01
Monday morning at the office...
Let's discuss how you're going to present your progress in the big progress meeting today.
Well, uh, I thought I'd talk about all the progress we've made.
In the big meeting...
And in conclusion, a lot of progress has been made.
But what about this irrelvant detail that makes the meeting drag on for hours but nevertheless makes me seem rather observant!
Afterwards...
Great progress report. To continue this level of success I've scheduled daily two-hour progress reporting progress meetings at a ridiculous hour.
We get to write software soon, right?

 

by thoroughly
3-02-01
Bob, I think work's dirving me a little crazy.
That's a distinct possibility.
Oh, why's that?
Well, for one thing, you're talking to a goat named Bob.
Touche. I'm going to sit in a corner and play with my shoelaces.
And what a sexy goat I am! Ooh, here comes that cute little number from accounting... Where's my garbage-scented binnaca?

 

by thoroughly
3-02-01
In the cubicles...
Wow, our startup's almost out of money, we fired sixty people, and we're having difficulty scaring up more funding.
Well, at least there's still the free fruit.
In the break room...
Oh, no! The fruit delivery didn't come!
We're doomed! Doomed, I say!
I'm going to pack up my desk.
Can I use you as a reference?

 

by thoroughly
3-03-01
So I've come up with this pun, but I can't think of a joke to go with it. Tell me what you think: "The Marquee de Scrod".
What the hell's a scrod?
Well, it's a variety of fish that people eat, with the added benefit that it has a funny name.
So a fish makes it famous, sees his name in lights, that sort of thing?
Yeah, that joke's audience is probably limited to scrod-eaters. But they're a pretty wacky crowd.
Then there's the Marquis de Sade anit-defamation society. You don't want your name on their list.

 

by thoroughly
3-03-01
The failing economy effects everyone...
Recession, who cares? I've got enough acorns hoarded to last me for years.
Patience. Just wait until he lets his guard down.
Livelihoods are at stake...
With consumer confidence in the toilet, people just aren't generating enough trash anymore.
And with manufacturing sectors in the toilet, I'll be out of a job soon.
Of couse, it could always be worse.
Soon their markets will crumble, and the humans will not be able to pay their planetary mortgage.
I love being a repo man.

 

by thoroughly
3-03-01
Oh, faithful servant Clango, I have the whole universe at my disposal, and yet... I am so alone.
Perhaps, if I may suggest so, sir, we land on Earth and make friends with these "humans".
Ah, a capital idea, Clangol. Set a course for Earth at once.
Yes, master. Course laid in. We'll arrive in two hours time.
Sir, we've landed. I've prepared the gangplank for your disembarkation.
Thank you, Clangol. I'm so excited about making new human friends. I've set my trusty befriendenator to "charm".

 

by thoroughly
3-03-01
Zerxon tries to make friends with the Earthlings.
Excuse me, sir. I'm new to this planet, and interested in making acquaintences. My name's Zerxon. May I inquire as to yours?
Uh, if you'll excuse me I'll just be -- running for my life!
I'll just back away slowly, slowly.
Hmm, I'm not experiencing the level of success I was expecting. Perhaps my befriendenator's on the fritz.
Success at last.
Yes, I have millions of your Earth dollars.
Then we can be friends all night, you sexy grey thang.

 

by thoroughly
3-03-01
The morning after Zerxon makes a new human friend.
Thanks for the trick, sweetie. You should have that skin condition looked into.
You'll call me, right?
I have returned, Clangol, and have experienced human friendship. It is quite different than I expected. It's so short lived but so intense. And expensive.
But surely you're not finished, sir. There are after all 6 billion friends to be made on planet Earth.
We are alone again, beloved.
Take me, my metal Adonis.

 

by thoroughly
3-04-01
Do you ever feel opressed by time? We fall through the pit of time, inexorably, day after day, until we crumple against the not so distant bottom.
Hey, Neal, we're going drinking in Buckhead, want to come? We're going to get so wasted!
Time's tyranny -- it drifts by insensitive to how you spend it, what you accomplish, whether you use it wisely.
And then we'll go clubbing until six am, when we'll stumble home too drunk to even reach our beds. It's going to be so much fun!
Ultimately, all our lives and their effects are ephemeral. Memories fade as the slate is washed clean. I'm going to write some comics.
Hey, it's eight o'clock and I can still think rationally. Let's party!

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