Good morning. Thank you for checking in on the Daily Monster on a Sunday. That's dedication, and I like that about you. I have an especially fun one for you today. (Or so I think, anyway. It's always a good sign when I can draw them upside down. It means that I'm dealing with a creature that can't wait to appear!)
Two of the Magnificent Four took the day off yesterday, which may be due to the fact that Number 28 was plagued with some initial technical difficulties. We are dealing with monsters, don't forget, so one must be prepared to face such things every now and again. As it was, Mogabog immediately had 28 pegged as a Strange Error Monster of the 404th dimension. How right you are, Mogabog. How right you are. (In fact, I'm heeding your warning and wearing two pairs of socks as I'm typing this. With an S.E.M. around I don't want to take the risk of catastrophic sock failure. My insurance would go through the roof!)
After the last few days of prose, Sam Berkes is back with a series of haikus about Fred, the fly with an underbite. (It was only through this comment that I noticed a bit of a resemblance between 28 and James Brown. Can you imagine a fly buzzing around your head, dripping tiny beads of sweat, going "H'unh! Hit me! Yeeeeaaa-ow!" I should've given him a tiny fly cape.
Thank you, Sam and Mogabog.
I'm glad you came in on a Saturday.
That was kind of you and I appreciate it.
Now, let's talk about Monster 29. He seems uniquely evolved for certain tasks, foods, and/or environments. Do you have any theories as to what they might be? Also, what's with the 70s dress code? Are those lifts he's wearing? What is this guy's story? How old is he? (How old does he think he is?) Where is he from? What does he do for a living? Where does he vacation? I'm hoping you'll tell me. Until then, have a lovely, relaxing Sunday, and please remember that 344 LOVES YOU