PENICILLIN: Hey wait, UTI, what are you doing back here?
UTI: Oh, I’m sorry… I was looking for the Sistine Chapel. Is this not the Sistine-?
PENICILLIN: You know darn well this is not the Sistine Chapel. This is the Urinary Tract, and you’re trespassing… again.
UTI: I’m sorry, sir, but you have me mistaken for someone else. I’m not a UTI. I’m a badminton historian from Ohio, who’s looking for the Sistine Chapel.
PENICILLIN: Your name is Ulysses T. Ingram and you’re a UTI.
UTI: My name is Gary, and I’m a badminton historian from Ohio.
PENICILLIN: Okay, prove it, show me your identification.
UTI: I’m sorry, I don’t seem to have my identification on me at the moment. I must’ve dropped it back near the Kidney Stones.
PENICILLIN: If you do not vacate the premises immediately, I must release a lethal dose of preventative action against you, sir.
UTI: Wait, what can I do to prove to you who I am?
PENICILLIN: Where did badminton originate?
UTI: Badminton, or Battledome and Shuttlecock as it was called, was played for centuries in Ancient Greece, China, and India. Later, it was taken from India to England and popularized by the 9th Duke of Gloucertershire, Henry Somerset, in 1873.
The first championships were held in 1899. The BWF, or Badminton World Federation, was formed in 1934. Shall I go on? Can I go now?
PENICILLIN: Not so fast, bro. One more question before I let you through.
UTI: Okay.
PENICILLIN: How much does a shuttlecock weigh?
UTI: Easy, 0.16 ounces.
PENICILLIN: 0.17 ounces! You almost had me, but no!
UTI: Dammit! Okay, I’ll leave, but I’ll be back. As long as your client keeps wiping back to front, I’ll be back.
WITCH: Yeah, for some inexplicable reason, the darn thing stalled out on me in mid flight. I had to make an emergency landing yesterday. I almost died.
BIRD: So… are you riding a Shopvac now?
WITCH: No, this is a vacuum cleaner, you idiot.
BIRD: Your riding a vacuum cleaner and I’m the idiot?
WITCH: Don’t mess with me, bird, I’ll turn you into a toad.
BIRD: Again?
WITCH: Again? ( thinks ) Wait… I thought you looked familiar. I did turn you into a toad. I turned you into a toad because you…
BIRD: I stood you up on a date two years ago. I used to be a six foot man.
WITCH: A man with six feet? Seems like I did you a favor.
BIRD: You did not! Anyway… you turned me into a toad because I stood you up. And then about a year ago, you turned me into a bird because I stood you up again.
WITCH: Exactly! And now look at you, a goofy-ass bird flying aimlessly to nowhere.
BIRD: How long will this current curse last?
WITCH: It will last as long as you want it to last.
BIRD: What does that mean?
WITCH: It means you have the power to lift the curse. All you have to do is go out with me on one date.
BIRD: Go out with you on one date and the curse will be lifted?
WITCH: Yes!
BIRD: Go out where?
WITCH: Take me to Popeye’s Chicken for a nice sit down meal and I’ll lift the curse.
BIRD: I can’t go to Popeye’s Chicken… for reasons you have obviously overlooked.
WITCH: Okay, well, then no deal, the curse remains indefinitely. Your loss.
BIRD: Okay, fine! I was getting used to being a bird anyway.
WITCH: Revenge is sweet.
BIRD: Yep… especially when it involves sabotage, gravity and a broom.
ACORN: Sir, have you ever considered collecting vintage comic books instead of acorns?
SQUIRREL: Why would I do that? I’m collecting these acorns to get me through the coming winter.
ACORN: Yeah, it’s good to have short term goals. But it’s even better to have long term strategies that will get you through, not only the winter, but through many, many winters.
SQUIRREL: Well, I can eat acorns, I can’t eat a vintage comic book.
ACORN: No doubt, no doubt. However, some of those first editions are rumored to be quite tasty. ( chuckles ) My point is… every fall you go around collecting acorns and it amounts to little more than a cyclical, vicious cycle. It’s pointless and redundant, would you not agree?
SQUIRREL: Yup, just like the next to the last thing you just said. Are you trying to call me stupid or something?
ACORN: Oh, no, no, no, I would never call you stupid, Mr. Squirrel, sir. It’s just that…
SQUIRREL: What?
ACORN: Respectfully, you don’t have to collect vintage comic books per se. It could be rare coins, stamps, or Pokemon cards, for instance. All of which could pay a large dividend down the road to subsidize, and the ultimately replace, your acorn habit.
SQUIRREL: I like acorns.
ACORN: No, doubt, no doubt. But once you cash in on these other alternative collections, you’ll have so much money, you’ll be able to live off more than just nuts.
SQUIRREL: I like acorns.
ACORN: Acorns have no value!
SQUIRREL: Oh, okay, I see what’s going on here.
ACORN: What do you see?
SQUIRREL: You’re trying to turn me off of acorns… so that I won’t try to collect you… store you up in my tree, and eat you sometime in the dead of this winter.
The Acorn stalls.
ACORN: No, you don’t want to eat me. I’m rotten under this pristine shell, the result of a nasty Sepsis infection gone buck wild.
SQUIRREL: Right… lucky for you, I’ve already got enough acorns for the winter.
ACORN: You have enough acorn for the winter, you say?
SQUIRREL: Yup, I’m all set, and don’t try to get me to release these here acorns I got in my arms at the moment.
ACORN: Yeah, I don’t know any of those acorns, so I don’t really care what happens to them.
SQUIRREL: You’re a heartless little bastard, aren’t you?
ACORN: Not really, because I can tell from here that those acorns in your arms are empty inside.
SQUIRREL: Like I believe that.
ACORN: Like my ex-wife!
SQUIRREL: What?!
ACORN: How is it that you can carry all those acorns at once?
SQUIRREL: I’m strong.
ACORN: You’re weak… the acorns are empty, ravaged and hollowed out by Sepsis! Listen to me, you fool! We go way back. Would I lie to you?
SQUIRREL: We’ve been talking for five minutes. I don’t even know your name, and yes, you would lie to me!
ACORN: Okay… fair enough.
SQUIRREL: And by the way… I already own a 1940’s, copy of the Amazing Spiderman #15.
ACORN: Really?!
SQUIRREL: Yup, mint condition.
ACORN: You said you didn’t own any vintage comic books, so you lied to me.
SQUIRREL: No, I didn’t. I said I couldn’t eat a vintage comic book. Because a two million dollar meal would be very hard to digest.
The Squirrel runs off, leaving the Acorn in stunned silence.
WAITER: And what kind of drink can I get for you, sir?
MAN: Oh my god… I… need… a… doctor!
WAITER: (scribbling ) Okay, one Dr. Pepper. And I see you have a friend joining you. ( to the alien ) And what kind of drink can I start you off with, sir?
ALIEN: Something fizzy.
WAITER: ( scribbles ) Okay… club soda sound good?
ALIEN: Yes, and can they add some sulfuric acid to that?
WAITER: Oh… I’m sorry, I think because of OSHA regulations, we probably don’t have any sulfuric acid in the kitchen.
ALIEN: You sure?
WAITER: Ah… pretty sure…
The waiter coughs three times, rubs his own chest in a tight circular pattern.
ALIEN: Damn.
WAITER: What about a dozen table spoons of battery acid added to your club soda? Sound good?
ALIEN: That’ll work.
WAITER ( to the man ) Okay, sir, are you ready to order? Might I suggest the brisket?
MAN: Creature coming out of my… ch… che… chest.
WAITER: You’re having chest pains? Well, in that case, I would definately stay away from the brisket. Perhaps the clam chowder would be more to your liking instead?
MAN: ( pointing ) Alien… creature… gasp…awwww…
WAITER: ( sweating profusely ) And what kind of side would you like with that, sir?
MAN: Chest… chest….
WAITER: No, not chest, I said side. What kind of side would you like with you soup? You want fries with that?
ALIEN: ( to waiter ) I’m expecting a friend to be joining us shortly, so could I get another order of the club coda with the extra battery acid?
WAITER: Oh, sure. And how soon will your third member be joining your table?
WormHole Square will update on Thursday, September 19th of this week.
Questions? Go to the 'About Comic Strip' page for answers to why this strip exists, or go there just to find the solutions to life's mysteries in general.
WormHole Square will update on Thursday, October 3rd.
