Monday’s comic finally pulls into the station! I see you’ve already eaten clean the carcasses of those who had starved to death, as they had been deprived my sweet, sweet words and shapes. I applaud your practicality and sheer disregard of your local laws regarding cannibalism. That takes guts. Guts that you’ve devoured. You horrible person.

Right, so it’s Wednesday tomorrow, and I’ve only JUST finished Monday’s comic, meaning barring a spatial time rip, which my local chronologist says is not likely this week, Wednesday’s comic will likely be late as well. You’ve survived thus far, and I’m grateful for your patience and understanding that I don’t understand how time actually works. I’m sure the chains tethering you to your chair have nothing to do with it.

My main goal really has been to put out three pieces of this grand puzzle I call a “comic” every seven days, no matter how late I manage it or how many starve. That said, usually the sacrificial creatures necessary to make these comics happen only just arrive in the mail perhaps a day late or so. So candles need to be re-lit. Sigils re-chalked. Entities implored for patience.

So see, I… There’s a knocking at the portcullis. In a 5/24 time signature. That is one of the entities. How did they get my address. Look, I need to handle this.

I will hopefully see you Wednesday.