Pirate’s upset because he made a bet with his dad that his grandpa would never make his own jetpack. That’s like three months of swabbing the poop deck without giggling. Do you know how hard that is? It’s called a POOP deck!
I dunno where my head’s been lately. I’ve been stressed with making this comic as good as it can be and with a bunch of work I’m doing for commission and I’ve got a kid on the way too. A big thank you to my wife who makes sure my work doesn’t get too dark. The original draft of this comic was way WAY darker and she had to talk me out of it. I’m glad she did because this one is totally rad. I want to be that old guy when I grow up. Seriously, science, if we don’t have jetpacks by the time I’m old and crotchety there will be fire and pitchforks, I guarantee you.
See you Saturday for a brand new (hopefully funny and not ridiculously depressing) comic!