(originally titled “Fun at Rusty’s Expense)
While I was hearing voices, inspired by Rusty’s incredulous response to Mark calling every freakin’ vet in the book:
many folks at The Comics Curmudgeon were fascinated/repelled/nauseated, observing that while Rusty indeed has five fingers (count ’em), a quick glance seems to suggest otherwise):
(Brian Blessed rocks so hard it’s not funny…)
…suddenly takes on a whole different meaning!
Thanks to Dean Booth for the totally wasted expression. Roll on, little Dudette!
Meanwhile, someone’s been rifling through Dolly’s boudoir…
Meanwhile, back in NYC and an art gallery that shall remain nameless:
Oh, yeah, the Mills Gallery. Well, I think everyone with the Mills name involved with the gallery is dead.