Maybe I’m going to have to go back and work on the earlier drawings. It’s all about telling a story, and a story is developing. This isn’t me telling it; this is me working it out. Rhonda is not happy with her life, pushing flabby desk jockeys, cubicle dogs, guys who suddenly discover they never really had an adolescence, guys with enough money to suddenly find they want to be exciting, too (also) into weak beachbreak, in sometimes-skanky water, in a city with often-brown skies- for money.
“We’re all whores,” SUPman will (eventually) say; “at least you’re making money doing something you love. And, no, you’re, really, a ‘pusher,’ ha, ha; and, um, wait… brainstorm… ‘the first wave’s free.’ Hey, Rhonda, that could be your tagline. A gift. Another gift. You know I’m hooked, right?”
“Something I did love,” Rhonda will think. “If he calls me a ‘hook hooker’ I’m just gonna …”
Stay tuned; workin’ on it. Oh, and hope you didn’t find the Beach Boys allusion cheesy.