Date: 21 August 1998.
Medium: Pen & ink on paper.
On Tuesday 13 June 1995 my life changed. I was on a school trip to Washington, DC. MacAfee and Mr. Andy Black went, too. Also along on the trip was our tour guide, one Mr. Gary Richards. We liked him and even called him Dad, but on the fateful night of Tuesday the Thirteenth, my peace of mind evaporated in a downward spiral of madness.
We were in the hotel room after a long day of sightseeing and, while I was worrying about a strange light on the wall, the rest of my coterie ordered pizza! But alas, all was not to be quite so wonderful as previously imagined. Being the kindred spirits we are, we invited Mr. Gary Richards to dine with us on this, our last night together.
A knock on the door! As we were but a wee group in a strange city, we rushed to the peephole. It looked like Mr. Gary Richards come a'knocking 'pon our door. "Like hello," rang a voice from outside. It sounded like Mr. Gary Richards. Being a suspicious sort, I felt it necessary to again check the peephole, but it was too late! In swung the door, in came Mr. Gary Richards, and in came the door's chain lock to my eye. My right eye. With the howl of an injured animal, I slunk off to a corner to die alone.
True, I pulled through, but it was the day before we took our souvenir group picture in front of the Capitol Building. Luckily I didn't get a black eye, but it had the possibility of becoming such. I was traumatized. Mr. Gary Richards had attacked me and ate our pizza (it was good pizza too). Since then I've been more paranoid about the universe in general.
When it came time to write I Don't Get It, who did I cast as the villain but none other than Mr. Gary Richards. By 1999 I was itching to make a movie version, which gave me incentive to draw the picture of Mr. Gary Richards seen above, wearing his prison jumpsuit. The hunched back was an afterthought.
Now you know my story. Now you know my plight. Now you know ... me.