Want more Aaron? Last summer he did some preliminary comic strips for the Fox vs. Franken First Amendment Project documentary. They were ultimately too long and too, well, biased to make it into the final film, but did get featured on the DVD.
Ladies and Gentlemen,
Fred's Box
by Aaron Hughes
RANDOM SUPERHERO FOOTAGE
Cut to OMD's "Electricity"
by Tom Bayne
Dear Mr. Bayne,
I am writing on behalf of my client, one Rick Lacy the Second, who has recently put me in his employage. He would like me to notify you that if you do not post at least one picture of his sexy, desirable and in all ways properly pampered, prepared and presented face on modernarthur.com/blog, hereby known as "the blog," he will be forced to press charges against you for willfull neglect, defamation of character and psychological damages.
My client is a young available male, on the prowl in New York City. It is necessary that he get the same photographic treatment on the blog as the rest of your group of peers.
I understand that you and my client have a friendly relationship. He does not want to dismantle this. He is only seeking what is rightfully his: his fucking beautiful face on the blog, at least as big as yours, although at this point we do feel (as does the law) that it should be bigger.
Sincerely,
Skylar James Brumley, esq.
Attorney at Law
Tom's girlfriend recently informed Tom that she doesn't like to be touched while she's eating and so he started thinking about how many times he'd touched her while she was eating. Usually it was her leg, her knee specifically, but sometimes it was her back or one of her shoulders or an arm. He bet even a couple times he'd touched her face while she was eating. Her elbow, her ear, her toes, perhaps? What about gum-chewing? Gum-chewing wasn't eating, was it?
Then she went on to tell him that she doesn't like it when her head is touched, and not just when she's eating, but ever. And so Tom started thinking about how many times he'd touched his girlfriend's head and, oh man, it had been a ton of times.
Patting her head, patting her forehead, running his fingers through her hair, tugging on her ears, tugging on her hair, all very gently of course, massaging her temples, stroking her earlobes, her teeth, planting kisses on her cheeks, pressing his nose into her dimples, connecting-the-moles, pressing one of his cheeks into one of her eye sockets and inflating it (his cheek) with air, running his eyelashes through her eyebrows, ducking his chin into the little alleyway behind her neck, tapping out morse-coded E. E. Cummings poems on her eyelids, her lovely eyelids concealing her lovely eyes, keeping them lovely, Tom tapped on them, making them flutter, "—the best gesture of my brain is less than / your eyelids' flutter which says / we are for each other," headbutting her brain box, walking his fingers up and down the areas where he estimated her sutures to be, pretending her head was his pillow, pretending his head was her pillow, coming up with excuses to clean her glasses, her lovely, sexy glasses, seeing how big her smile could get, her nose could scrunch, her eyes could bug, her- holy hell, Tom thought, he'd done nothing but torture his poor girlfriend this past year.
"It's okay," she told him. "We're still learning."
By that she meant, Tom's still learning and she's still tolerating him. He loves her so much.
Tom, August 10, 2005, 10:43 PM
