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Carry On:
A comic about hyenas – really!
Carry On for Wednesday, December 5, 2018:
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A: UBS: Predator And Prey
Uri (telling story): We drew up to a restaurant. The Countess told me that we were to pretend to be old friends catching up over dinner. I agreed to play along because really, what else was there to do? Our retinue conducted us from the carriage. The number of hyenas attending my host had grown from two to six, including two stout guards and a grizzled paramilitary merc in an ill-fitting tuxedo— her tie did not match her eyepatch. I started checking rooftops to see where the Cou8ntess had placed her sniper. "You won't see her until it's too late," she whispered to me as we walked inside. The place was downright palatial, the kind of establishment that would've been too expensive for me to make eye contact with if I'd been by myself— chandeliers, velvet ropes, the whole yarn. The stuffy leopard Maitre D' audibly shifted gears when he realized who was arriving— slightly early, as it happened— and he deftly set his staff to scurrying around to secure a prime table for us. The Countess was not the slightest bit ruffled, she simply expected to be accommodated. I'm sure I would not have been permitted across the thresh-hold had I not been on her arm— sometimes it's not who you know, but who you appear to know... I was a little disturbed to see "Hyena" on the menu, but it turned out to be a portion size— false advertising, really, I could've put away twice that and still gone for dessert. Good food though. They have this 200-day dry aged t-bone steak that's just like sun-parched antelope except every bite is the best part. Made a good appetizer. I was wondering whether we were going to use cutlery when I saw her pick up her steak with her fingers — only two, though, respectable-like. We talked and ate, both in great quantity. We seemed to be having a fair bit more fun than the other patrons in the place. I know we were putting on a show, but I think I got to see something of the real Kalua during that meal — it helped that the character she was playing was still herself, just a version of herself that happened to be good friends with me. It felt more real than that, though. I came to believe that she really laughed and really gave me the occasional knowing wink.... And sitting across from her over a mountain of meat, I had the opportunity to study her, the way the light made dazzling patterns on her rich, dark fur and glittered in the tempestuous oceans of her eyes. She had the body of an athlete, the latent power of a coiled spring, but what was truly remarkable was that her pelt was an immaculate tapestry, unmarred by blade, tooth, or claw. Usually lacking a single battlescar would mean that she had never done anything of note, but I knew her biography now. She had won her battle before her opponents had even thought to arm themselves. The chance to be in her presence, to simply experience her glory, to share a meal with one such as she, that was the stuff of legends.
Uri (in flashback, to the Countess): ...Do I... talk too much?
Countess (in flashback): Mnnm-uhhnn...
B: UBS: Taking Bets
Lucius: Seriously, you didn't notice—?
Uri: Not by a long shot. I mean, yeah, she was interesting, but I was more terrified than anything else... and I'd think it'd be fairly easy to know when a sheyena was in... that state.
Fred: Yes, you'd think that...
Koz: We shoulda taken a pool on whether you'd survive this. I coulda gotten 4:1 odds
Lucius: What's the spread on physical injuries?
Koz: Well, "draw blood" is pennies on the dollar, but there's still good over-under for "requires body cast."
Uri: Guys— I didn't die! I'm telling you the story right now!
Lucius: That proves nothing!
C: UBS: Climax
Uri (telling story): After the plates were cleared away. She propped her chin on her hand, licking the grease off each finger by turn. "You haven't lost a bit of your charm, old friend," she told me, with a smile. "Nor you, Countess. You remain the picture of grace that you always were," I replied, with feeling. Then she rose and took me lightly by the ear. She grinned. "Come along, dear. Our accommodations await." She led me through the lobby of the hotel adjoining the restaurant, band soon we were there, in a room, just the two of us. The two of us and a big bed. It was so sudden ... the words I was about to say died on my tongue as she slung off her dress and said, "Well, fun's fun. Now to get down to business." She looked at me with narrowed eyes. "And you'd better get the job done!" Somewhere along the trip from the door to the bed, my heart started beating again, and was making up for the brief hiatus by trying to pound its way out through my ribcage. I was shocked to learn that what she wanted from me was me!
Lucius: Uri. Bro. Dude. My man. She's been tossing fat stacks of cash around, she treated you to a fancy dinner and even pretended to laugh at your lame jokes, and you still didn't realize she was into you? Come on, didn't you smell it on her—?
Well, no— I mean she just smelled like chocolate... warm and invitingly bitter... with this thrilling spicy note to it that made my mouth water and— oh. Oh, yeah. Maybe there was something to that...
Lucius: Graduated first in your class, hah!
Koz: Thaaat's "Hot Chocolate" for you— "The sweet treat that makes you warm all over!"
Uri: Aw, come on, guys—! Don't talk about my one-night stand that way! You make it sound cheap and tawdry!
D: UBS: Letdown
Uri: Now, afterwards —
Koz: Wait! What about the good part?!
Uri: You make fun of my story, I skip to the end.
Lucius: Uri, come on— you can't do that to us!
Uri: Too late. It's done.
Fred: Cold and uncompromising. The Countess would be proud of you.
Uri: Yeah, I guess there's a bit of her in me, too.
Uri (resuming story): She said I was... "proficient," which may have been the nicest thing she's ever said to a gentleman-caller. Then she went to get cleaned up and put her dress back on. Even in my bliss-addled state, I knew that she was leaving. And that I was never going to see her again.
Because you see, it turned out that she was engaged to a man whose holdings would increase her portfolio, but who was of inferior genetic stock. She cringed at the thought of bearing a cub from that slimy little weed, so for the price of a fine meal and a whirlwind night in a five-star hotel room, she found herself a young, virile, impoverished nobody with good genes in a town so far from her home that there would never be a chance of her dear betrothed learning the truth, and, if all went as planned, she would have a scion worth being grafted onto her family tree.
So all the grilling, the background check, the "date", was done to determine the suitability of my... contribution to her posterity. She assured me that I had beaten out several other candidates, and told me that I could sleep in as late as I wanted in the morning, the bill was taken care of, and there would be a coach to take me back to the fetid cave she'd found me in, if I so wished it. And then she was gone.
She didn't even say goodbye. She just said, "This had better be a daughter. And I know my secret will be safe with you— not because of your discretion, but because I know how you guyenas love to boast and exaggerate your conquests, so even if you tell everyone that you know about this— no one will ever believe you."
E: UBS: Conclusion
Koz: Wait— so that's it? Jeez, why didn't you tell us this before?
Uri: It's not something I'm proud of, and I didn't think you'd be interested.
Lucius: You told us the story about how your grandmother mowed down the only tree for 200 miles driving her truck drunk, but this you don't tell us?
Fred: Why should he have? Some rich noblewoman abducted him, exploited him for breeding stock, and then never spoke to him again. That's—
Koz: Freakin' awesome! High four, man! You're a hero!
Koz (giving Uri a noogie): You lost your big "V" card by getting a totally smokin' hot rich babe to bed you and buy you a meal!
Uri: Yeah, 'cuz that's the important thing, right?
Uri (telling story): We drew up to a restaurant. The Countess told me that we were to pretend to be old friends catching up over dinner. I agreed to play along because really, what else was there to do? Our retinue conducted us from the carriage. The number of hyenas attending my host had grown from two to six, including two stout guards and a grizzled paramilitary merc in an ill-fitting tuxedo— her tie did not match her eyepatch. I started checking rooftops to see where the Cou8ntess had placed her sniper. "You won't see her until it's too late," she whispered to me as we walked inside. The place was downright palatial, the kind of establishment that would've been too expensive for me to make eye contact with if I'd been by myself— chandeliers, velvet ropes, the whole yarn. The stuffy leopard Maitre D' audibly shifted gears when he realized who was arriving— slightly early, as it happened— and he deftly set his staff to scurrying around to secure a prime table for us. The Countess was not the slightest bit ruffled, she simply expected to be accommodated. I'm sure I would not have been permitted across the thresh-hold had I not been on her arm— sometimes it's not who you know, but who you appear to know... I was a little disturbed to see "Hyena" on the menu, but it turned out to be a portion size— false advertising, really, I could've put away twice that and still gone for dessert. Good food though. They have this 200-day dry aged t-bone steak that's just like sun-parched antelope except every bite is the best part. Made a good appetizer. I was wondering whether we were going to use cutlery when I saw her pick up her steak with her fingers — only two, though, respectable-like. We talked and ate, both in great quantity. We seemed to be having a fair bit more fun than the other patrons in the place. I know we were putting on a show, but I think I got to see something of the real Kalua during that meal — it helped that the character she was playing was still herself, just a version of herself that happened to be good friends with me. It felt more real than that, though. I came to believe that she really laughed and really gave me the occasional knowing wink.... And sitting across from her over a mountain of meat, I had the opportunity to study her, the way the light made dazzling patterns on her rich, dark fur and glittered in the tempestuous oceans of her eyes. She had the body of an athlete, the latent power of a coiled spring, but what was truly remarkable was that her pelt was an immaculate tapestry, unmarred by blade, tooth, or claw. Usually lacking a single battlescar would mean that she had never done anything of note, but I knew her biography now. She had won her battle before her opponents had even thought to arm themselves. The chance to be in her presence, to simply experience her glory, to share a meal with one such as she, that was the stuff of legends.
Uri (in flashback, to the Countess): ...Do I... talk too much?
Countess (in flashback): Mnnm-uhhnn...
B: UBS: Taking Bets
Lucius: Seriously, you didn't notice—?
Uri: Not by a long shot. I mean, yeah, she was interesting, but I was more terrified than anything else... and I'd think it'd be fairly easy to know when a sheyena was in... that state.
Fred: Yes, you'd think that...
Koz: We shoulda taken a pool on whether you'd survive this. I coulda gotten 4:1 odds
Lucius: What's the spread on physical injuries?
Koz: Well, "draw blood" is pennies on the dollar, but there's still good over-under for "requires body cast."
Uri: Guys— I didn't die! I'm telling you the story right now!
Lucius: That proves nothing!
C: UBS: Climax
Uri (telling story): After the plates were cleared away. She propped her chin on her hand, licking the grease off each finger by turn. "You haven't lost a bit of your charm, old friend," she told me, with a smile. "Nor you, Countess. You remain the picture of grace that you always were," I replied, with feeling. Then she rose and took me lightly by the ear. She grinned. "Come along, dear. Our accommodations await." She led me through the lobby of the hotel adjoining the restaurant, band soon we were there, in a room, just the two of us. The two of us and a big bed. It was so sudden ... the words I was about to say died on my tongue as she slung off her dress and said, "Well, fun's fun. Now to get down to business." She looked at me with narrowed eyes. "And you'd better get the job done!" Somewhere along the trip from the door to the bed, my heart started beating again, and was making up for the brief hiatus by trying to pound its way out through my ribcage. I was shocked to learn that what she wanted from me was me!
Lucius: Uri. Bro. Dude. My man. She's been tossing fat stacks of cash around, she treated you to a fancy dinner and even pretended to laugh at your lame jokes, and you still didn't realize she was into you? Come on, didn't you smell it on her—?
Well, no— I mean she just smelled like chocolate... warm and invitingly bitter... with this thrilling spicy note to it that made my mouth water and— oh. Oh, yeah. Maybe there was something to that...
Lucius: Graduated first in your class, hah!
Koz: Thaaat's "Hot Chocolate" for you— "The sweet treat that makes you warm all over!"
Uri: Aw, come on, guys—! Don't talk about my one-night stand that way! You make it sound cheap and tawdry!
D: UBS: Letdown
Uri: Now, afterwards —
Koz: Wait! What about the good part?!
Uri: You make fun of my story, I skip to the end.
Lucius: Uri, come on— you can't do that to us!
Uri: Too late. It's done.
Fred: Cold and uncompromising. The Countess would be proud of you.
Uri: Yeah, I guess there's a bit of her in me, too.
Uri (resuming story): She said I was... "proficient," which may have been the nicest thing she's ever said to a gentleman-caller. Then she went to get cleaned up and put her dress back on. Even in my bliss-addled state, I knew that she was leaving. And that I was never going to see her again.
Because you see, it turned out that she was engaged to a man whose holdings would increase her portfolio, but who was of inferior genetic stock. She cringed at the thought of bearing a cub from that slimy little weed, so for the price of a fine meal and a whirlwind night in a five-star hotel room, she found herself a young, virile, impoverished nobody with good genes in a town so far from her home that there would never be a chance of her dear betrothed learning the truth, and, if all went as planned, she would have a scion worth being grafted onto her family tree.
So all the grilling, the background check, the "date", was done to determine the suitability of my... contribution to her posterity. She assured me that I had beaten out several other candidates, and told me that I could sleep in as late as I wanted in the morning, the bill was taken care of, and there would be a coach to take me back to the fetid cave she'd found me in, if I so wished it. And then she was gone.
She didn't even say goodbye. She just said, "This had better be a daughter. And I know my secret will be safe with you— not because of your discretion, but because I know how you guyenas love to boast and exaggerate your conquests, so even if you tell everyone that you know about this— no one will ever believe you."
E: UBS: Conclusion
Koz: Wait— so that's it? Jeez, why didn't you tell us this before?
Uri: It's not something I'm proud of, and I didn't think you'd be interested.
Lucius: You told us the story about how your grandmother mowed down the only tree for 200 miles driving her truck drunk, but this you don't tell us?
Fred: Why should he have? Some rich noblewoman abducted him, exploited him for breeding stock, and then never spoke to him again. That's—
Koz: Freakin' awesome! High four, man! You're a hero!
Koz (giving Uri a noogie): You lost your big "V" card by getting a totally smokin' hot rich babe to bed you and buy you a meal!
Uri: Yeah, 'cuz that's the important thing, right?
Sunday, July 1, 2017:
Fred’s Diaries have won first place in this year's Ursa Major Awards, in the Best Novel category! Many thanks to everyone who voted for us!
Fred’s Diaries have won first place in this year's Ursa Major Awards, in the Best Novel category! Many thanks to everyone who voted for us!
NOTICE: Persons attempting to find a motive in this narrative will be prosecuted; persons attempting to find a moral in it will be banished; persons attempting to find a plot will be shot.
~ Mark Twain
All characters and artwork (C)2004-2015 K. Garrison (carryoncomics@hotmail.com) or their original creators.
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Pages created by Carl Foxmarten.