I grew up reading The Far Side. My folks owned several of the books, and I can remember many happy nights curled up with the dry wit and bizarre observations of Mr. Gary Larson. I have no doubt this affected my own somewhat twisted sense of humor, because sometimes - usually after seeing something just a bit off - I'll hear an unmistakably Larson-esque narration start in my head.
You know, kind of like this:
Alone and outnumbered, C3pO did his best to blend in.
After a spritz of soda and a quick scrubbing, no one would ever guess at the dark events that transpired that fateful, frosting-filled night.
"So I says to him, 'Hey, Rabbit, it's my house and I'll hang a singing fish if I want to. And if you don't like his politics, find yourself another honey pot!'"
Bob surveyed his handiwork with pride. If only the Society of Delicate Penmanship and Context-Appropriate Color Coordination could see him now!
Buck couldn't help it: he laughed.
Unfortunately, the hunter's hearing turned out to be much better than his eyesight.
Thanks, Leah W., Julie B., Jaclyn B., Deborah F., & Matt W. You guys are far out.