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Transcript of: The Further Additional Adventures of the Sphynx

Panel 1 <No Text>

Panel 2

Smoking guy: AAAH!! Monster!! Y-you're gonna eat me, a-aren't you?!

*!!*

Sphynx: Yeah, pretty much. You should stay out of dead-end alleys. Are you a Dijon man, or is yellow mustard your fancy?

Sack: Condiments

Panel 3

Smoking guy: I don't wanna die!! PLEASE DON'T EAT ME!!

Sphynx: Look, just relax alright? I'm trying this new thing where I tell people really depressing stories before I eat them and it seems to make the whole process much easier. Really takes the edge off. So calm down, it'll be ok!

Panel 4

Smoking guy: It will NOT be okay!! I'm sorry, but you can't take the edge off being devoured!

Sphynx: Just listen alright?! Do you eat eggs? Y'know – scrambled, omelettes, quiche, etc?

Smoking guy: Do I eat eggs??! Y-yeah, why??

Panel 5

Sphynx: Well, eggs only come from female chickens, right? Millions of them, stuck up in those factory farm cages laying eggs year-round. And they have to be replaced every two years, so that means new hens are constantly being bred to keep egg production going. But what about all the male chickens that're inevitably hatched too? No use to the egg industry, right? Well, all those millions of male chicks – tiny, day old chicks – are gathered up and slaughtered in a high-speed grinder! Millions every year! A level of death unprecedented in nature – just think about that.

Panel 6

Sphynx: And then think about this: If a ghost is the restless spirit of a creature that has died violently then just think about all the ghost chicks that're roaming the streets under your feet. Billions of fuzzy little babies wandering confusedly around looking for their mothers and never finding them, sheltering from the rain under discarded newspapers, pecking in a futility at crumbs of food – unable to understand their own intangibility. Billions of tiny little souls, gliding among the blades of grass in a city park, running from dogs that can't even see them, never growing up, spending eternity in confused anguish because no-one can help them. Millions more joining their numbers each y-

Panel 7

Smoking guy: Okay! The Dijon will be fine!

Sphynx: Great! Good choice.

Page title: Macerator

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