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Torg: So I turn around and suddenly her nose is bleeding and I mean like a faucet! Gwynn (cleaning her monkey cage): Did someone hit her? Was she on cocaine or something? Torg: No, that's the weird thing! Her skin's so dry that the inside of her nose cracked and a capillary burst. So it was the dry skin! -- Riff: Who are we talking about? Torg: Nabibi, my model from Fashion Rancher® Waif™! -- Riff and Gwynn: It's the cocaine. Torg (angrily): *Nabibi has been clean for months!* | Flag | ||||
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Riff: *You're all leaving?!?* 6-Pack: We all have other identities. Our quick extraction left your old identity jeopardized. Izzy: You're 7433464866 now. You have to stay here in the barracks until our next scheduled patrol, honey! -- (The door starts to close) Riff: How long will that be?!? Alt-Torg: We're on light-duty rotation. One week. Riff: *What am I supposed to do for a week by myself?!?* -- (The door closes) <**CLAMP**> -- 6-Pack: You know I could have stayed with him for a few days at least. Alt-Torg: I need you at the chem-vats, 6-Pack! And I need him isolated. Alt-Torg: That version of Riff is useless to us, all whiny, confused, and depressed. -- Alt-Torg (winking): Now, a bored Riff with nothing around him but REA-5 suits, universal guns and hand-held Dee-eff-ays... Alt-Torg: .../*That*/ I could use. -- PS3 Game: nabibi defend catwalk honor with EXTREEEEEME STRUT! I am achieve bonus +1 "Tood" Riff: This video game is better than I thought. G-vz: <heart> === NOTE: mini ref: _nabibi_ <http://www.sluggy.com/comics/archives/daily/20050420>. | Flag | ||||
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Torg: Aw man! The PSPuny came bundled with Fashion Rancher® Waif™! I was hoping for a kung-fu fighting game! -- (Gwynn's foot barely misses his face) Gwynn: **HI-YAAAAH!** -- Caption: GWYNN - VS - TORG Gwynn: /"Fashion Rancher"/ is /*my*/ turf thus the PSPuny should be /*mine!*/ Torg: Bring it. (Riff sits on the ground behind them looking up as they assume their fighting stances) Footnote: New Battle START! -- Caption: GWYNN - VS - TORG (Riff jumps up, grabbing the PSPuny out of Torg's hand and runs off with it) <*zoOM**> Riff: I'll just hold on to this while you guys fight it out! Footnote: There goes a new challenger! | Flag | ||||
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Gwynn (still dazed from being hit on the head with a basket filled with tennis balls): Zoë's right, Torg. We're wasting too much time with this videogame! We need to do more around the house. Zoë: Torg, you're not even trying to find work. If you can't put some money into this household, the least you could do is start pulling your weight around here. Torg: Speaking of weight and finance, watch this "Fashion Rancher 2" trick! -- Game: You feed a fried chickens to Fashion Ranch model Nabibi. Nabibi is happy sorrow. Zoë: Nice, Torg. Moving on. We think you should take over the vacuuming at least! -- Game: Nabibi is work cheaper now. Gwynn (diving for the console): *I didn't know you could sabotage your own models to cut costs!* Zoë: *Gwynn, stay on topic!* Gwynn: *Oooh! Quick! Click the buffet icon! | Flag | ||||
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Riff: It's getting late, and I don't want to sleep on the street. Zoë reminded me her sister Min is a student here. Maybe we can bunk in with her for a night or two until we can figure out a plan. -- Gwynn (playing with the PSPuny): I've got a plan. To market a diet product around Nabibi's size 1.7 comeback! Riff: We're not talking "PSPuny Fashion Rancher" here, Gwynn! I meant a plan to get our stuff back from the house! Torg: Let's let Gwynn make the plans! She's the /devious/ diva! Gwynn: thanks! -- Riff: Anywho... First hurdle will be locating Min on campus! But I..... Torg: *Whoa! Riff! Something big and hairy on your back!* -- Min (clinging to Riff): <heart> <heart> <heart> Hi Riff! <heart> Riff: Somehow I just knew *she'd* find *me.* | Flag | ||||
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Riff: My cell's dead. *Gimmie [sic: should be "Gimme"] the damn phone!* Kiki: Hiya! -- Jenny (off panel; over the phone): Q-Ball Stakes-n-Stuff! Jenny speaking! Riff (into the phone): *Jenny, why was there no e-ticket waiting for me at the airport?* Jenny (off panel; over the phone): Sorry, boss, couldn't afford your return flight to Alaska. We're in a bit of a financial crisis. -- Riff (into the phone): *What?!?* We have *plenty* of money! Jenny (off panel; over the phone): That was before your elbow spike launchers started combusting. And did you know if you take too many of those colloidal silver pills it'll cause argyria? -- Jenny (into the phone): That means your skin turns blue-gray permanently! A vampire hunter walking into a situation with blue-gray skin could easily be mistaken for a zombie and get shot in the head. -- Riff (off panel; over the phone): Shot in the head? Jenny (into the phone): Theoretically. Look, I gotta run. Literally. (A dead blue-gray vampire hunter is in the chair in front of Jenny's desk; she's holding a smoking gun) -- <*CLICK.*> Riff: I don't believe this! My business is crumbling around me and I'm stuck here! -- Riff: All I need is a plane ticket to Alaska! Or a car! I'll drive! Can anyone spare a car? Or some cash? Torg: Sorry, man! We're all kinda broke. -- Zoë (covered in garbage and really, really ticked off): *And that's because you "kind of" don't have jobs!* Riff: Zoë! What happened to you? -- </Flashback to moments ago...> <*ZIP!*> (Zoë peels off the lid of a yogurt container) Yogurt Tub: Nuthin' in it | Cherry Baklava Yogurt Magazine Headline: [obscured] Future [obscured] | Political | [Ta]lk Radio -- (Zoë starts to put the top of the yogurt onto the top of the garbage pile (the garbage has not been taken out for quite a while)) -- (Zoë lets go of the yogurt top dropping it on the garbage pile) <DINK.> -- <RUMBLE, RUMBLE, RUMBLE...> -- (Zoë looks in wide-eyed surprise and horror as the garbage pile collapses -- on top of her) </End flashback> -- Zoë: I do all the work, pay for all the food, the least you could do is keep up with the housework! *Take the garbage out every now and then!* Riff (whistling): <musical note> -- Zoë (really, really ticked off): When's the last time either of you dusted or vacuumed or *anything?* -- (Zoë continues to rant angrily -- Gwynn and Torg sit looking chastised) Zoë: All you do is play videogames all day and *accomplish nothing!* -- Gwynn: Well, sure, if you think unlocking *Super Model Nabibi* in "Fashion Rancher 2" is /nothing.../ -- Torg: /*Burn!*/ You go girl! (Torg and Gwynn high-five.) <**SLAP!**> (Zoë stalks away in a very dark, angry mood (still covered in garbage)) Zoë: **Ugh!** | Flag | ||||
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PS3: fried food makes nabibi get up in your grill! FIGHT OF CATS START! -- <***SNAG!***> (Alt-Torg snags the PS3 away from Riff) -- Alt-Torg (unrolling the paper that he was carrying with him): Here. Riff: Huh? Alt-Torg: Plans. Remember the pipe-grenade I used to blow up your "Matty"? Here's how Nickel-Three-Six designed it. Such a small and simple explosive. -- [Alt-Torg leaves with PS3 under his arm; Riff is looking at the plan, Wrench-bot sticking out of his pocket) -- Jeeves (G-vz): Can I get anything for you, sir? Riff: Tools. -- Wrench-bot: OY! Riff: I meant "more tools". Wrench-bot: S'rite! === NOTE: Ref: _Pipe-Grenade_ <http://www.sluggy.com/comics/archives/daily/20100331> | _Nickel-Three-Six_ <http://www.sluggy.com/comics/archives/daily/20090904>. | Flag | ||||
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Comic Title: Coming soon from Playstayshun 3 | FASHION RANCHER IV CSF: Crime Scene Fashion | Where murder is never in fashion ™ © ® | you no right use above catchphrase without permissions. (Woman with chopsticks in her hair, which seem to pin three fish as well on her head (or possibly the fish are a "fashionable" hat)) Nabibi: Nabibi's publicist is chop into little pieces. Nabibi: Nabibi smelling something fishy about that. === NOTE: _nabibi_ <http://www.sluggy.com/comics/archives/daily/20040321>, how far you have come! | Flag |