Here's the second (and final) strip retelling Gabriel's harrowing past as a retail aggressor.
I hope the writing process for this strip makes it into the show at some point, or at any rate that it is revealed, because he lays the whole scenario bare and it's not the sanitized version we mounted here in a jpeg. It is a place of darkness, and those dark visions might bring him here, to the front page, to relate some measure of his crystallized fear.
By hour one hundred and thirty-five, Desert Bus had gathered well over a hundred thousand dollars. As in, dollars. Outside of the occasional link - and a donation every now and again, when the next hour was deliciously close - we had almost nothing to do with it. It's absolutely thrilling. As I've said before, becoming a footnote in the charity, the kind of thing a careless Wiki edit might remove entirely, is my ultimate goal.
Efforts like Desert Bus - or Fünde Razor, or Ümloud(!) - represent the spirit at the core of the project. Between independent events and customized wish lists that apply toys directly to the source of pain, we constitute a decentralized, almost guerilla charity. We're up $206,205 over last week, and you can see how much of that came from an "external" source. The quotation marks are there to imply just how little the term means - there is just Child's Play, which shall endure forever. At first completely distributed, now the rally point for wholly organic nodes of contribution, the end result is that we are kicking this thing's fucking ass.
I apologize for the late post. Teaching someone how to poop is incredibly difficult.