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The best possible advertisement for ARC Raiders is that Gabe likes it. Might actually be obsessed with it. Called me up to play! Played solo, late, and then woke up early. Sent me clips of his derring do late in the night, awoke to write the strip with his mind clouded by the peals and shrieks of the Earth's cybernetic inheritors. He has aspirations for his play experience that are situated perhaps a little above mine. But there is a point, somewhere between his best laid plans (men) and my best laid plans (mice) where it's essentially a co-op horror game and I almost always have the appetite for one round.

One presumes my final form is just me as I am now, a greasy and glistening sphere, within which plump veins can be seen writhing in their labors. There are disadvantages obviously but if we're both trying to get to the bottom of a hill, and we're putting money on it? Good luck, bro. Good fuckin' luck.

After experiencing the full arc of Gabriel's argumentation, robust in its profundity and vice versa, you may wonder why things have resolved as they did. That is because Smokey The Bear and Yogi The Bear are neither - they are simply Smokey Bear and Yogi Bear. So what he did was technically crimes. But I've never been effected by a Mandela so hard in my entire life.

At SDCC one year, some of the writers on The Simpsons came by to say hi. They told us something we thought was bizarre at the time, but they would know better than us: that it's okay to use the same joke again but it has to be at least ten years later. The parachute stuff was back in 2002; I think we're in the clear.