Bet You Thought It Would Be A Fairy Tale Strip, Didn't You?
The day has arrived.
This is what happens when writers live in Schrodinger's House, and both take themselves way too seriously, and laugh at their every idea until Turkey-Flavored Soda shoots out of their noses. It's also what happens when they just run with something, and run, and run. I hope you'll run with us, and gasp and wheeze and make silly noises and have a hell of a time with this utterly ridiculous story. And it is utterly ridiculous, I promise you that.
The funny will come. So will the groaning, and the disbelief, and the wringing of hands. And if there's one thing I know about Pete Mitchell, it's that he's gonna blow my poetry-and-high-art cover sky-high, and the dork I am will be revealed, looking vaguely nonplussed and avoiding direct eye contact.
It's not The Orphan's Tales. It's not Home on the Strange. But hey, there comes a time in every ballerina's life when she wants to play basketball.