WELL, HE'D EATEN ALL MY FAGS.
IT WAS A PACKET OF 200 DUTY-FREES.

- THAT'S FRANKENSTEIN.
- YOU'VE MADE TWO GLARING ERRORS.

RUBY GRAPEFRUIT JUICE.

- I DON'T KNOW.
- I HAVEN'T.

WHEN A COWBOY HAS AN ARROW FIRED AT HIM,
HE HEARS NOTHING.

YOU'RE HANGING AROUND WITH A MAN
WHO USES A COLLECTIVE TERM FOR A SINGLE VEHICLE.

YEAH, HE WAS.
I ACTUALLY THINK HE WAS A BIT SIMPLE.

PROPERLY POLICED. IT MUST NOT,
REPEAT NOT, TURN INTO AN ALL-NIGHT RAVE.

LET'S MAKE IT MORE FROTHY
WITH A SQUIRT OF LIGHT LEMON LIQUID.

THEY DON'T SOUND EVIL. THEY LIKE FLOWERS.

- COME ROUND THE BACK.
- ROUND THE BACK?

I MEAN, I OFTEN LOOK AT THIS
IN THE MORNING AND THINK...

IT LEAVES IN FIVE MINUTES
SO BETTER LEARN TO JOG AGAIN QUICKLY.

- BUT I WOULDN'T BREAK INTO ANOTHER PACKET.
- RIGHT.

IT'S A JOKE KNIFE! IT'S A JOKE KNIFE!

SHIT!

DON'T WORRY.
IT'S JUST A CUSHION THAT SIMULATES RECTAL GAS.

SO WHO'S REPLACED HIM
AS HEAD OF PROGRAMMES? CHRIS FEATHERS?