Monthly archives: October, 2008

7:56 a.m.
It’s almost 8 o’clock.  The birds are singing.  Inside Krypton Comics you wouldn’t know, but I stepped outside a moment ago.  It’s going to be a beautiful day.  I may never sleep again.

Colonel Doom has finished drawing and is in the process of inking.  Jim Doom has also finished drawing and is catching up on his ink chores.  Fin Fang Doom is currently drawing an invisible force bubble repelling a dozen 40 ton megawatt nuclear bombs.  He’s adopted a strange vocabulary for discussing his comics.  I don’t want to go into it.  Doom DeLuise has reached page 22.  His story has taken yet another unexpected turn.  It’s as if M. Night Shyamalan and six of his clones collaborated on a masterpiece.  I, Doom, Where’s My Car am taking a moment to reflect on what has transpired and what is yet to come in my story before I commit to drawing the last nine pages.  True, I have four more hours, and that’s more than enough time if I really get to it, but genius should not be rushed or forced so I’m going to put off completion.  I’ve failed the challenge?  No.  The challenge failed me, but I’m not disappointed in the challenge.  I think the challenge and I have fallen in love.

4:31 a.m.

4:26 a.m.
Colonel Doom is starting to creep me out.

I’ve learned a lot about myself through this process.  First, I love Bawls Energy Drink, but only the root beer flavor.  The blue Bawls taste like Zima. 

I’ve also learned that when I put my mind to something I can accomplish a little and then my focus changes. 

I’ve learned that ptereodactyls are not technically dinosaurs and that Napoleon was afraid of cats.  Maine is the toothpick capital of the world according to a website I don’t believe.  I’ve suddenly remembered how angry I was when Ben Nelson used his gubernatorial power to name milk as Nebraska’s state beverage.  Damn it, Ben, quit cozying up to the dairy lobby and recognize Kool Aid for what it is.

12:58 a.m.
“My book is lacking hot ladies.” – Doom! Where’s My Car?

FFD now has 5 splash pages in 14 total. “I pledge to do at least 2 more.”

CD: “F— your splash pages.”

11:32 p.m.
This is really boring. My comic sucks, and I’m having a hard time trying to figure out where to go from here. Plus, after drinking five or six of these stupid energy drinks, I feel like I could throw up at any moment. But, that’s not what’s important. Let me tell you about my crappy comic, and maybe you can give me some pointers on where to go next.

It starts out with a hiker in the Appalachian Mountains. He happens upon a crashed UFO that belongs to some space dinosaurs from the future.

Doom, Where’s My Car just said he can’t draw fish, to which Colonel Doom responded, “Are you drawing them to scale?” It was pretty funny.

Anyway, back to my crappy comic. A missile comes out of nowhere and kills everybody. Then, the action goes thousands of years into the future, where the space dinosaurs are discussing going back in time to kill everybody. A descendant of the hiker from earlier overhears this and decides he has to do something. Since he’s too dumb to figure out time travel, he leaves a time capsule for one of his descendants with all relevant information in it.

The future-future man gets the time capsule, goes back to the present day, stops the missile from hitting anybody, and goes home. Unfortunately, that means the future space dinosaurs are still alive, and they vaporize the hiker with their guns. They then turn their sites on the nearest city.

Meanwhile, the general behind the missile attack that didn’t work decides he has to take matters into his own hands and suits up in his rocket suit.

That’s where I’m at. I’m on the eleventh page, and I’ve confused the hell out of myself. I have no clue where I’m going with this thing. It’s horrible. The only way I’m keeping myself entertained is by writing ridiculous nonsensical dialogue.

Jim Doom just said, “I don’t want to draw dead baby Jesus.”

This night is getting weird.

8:07 p.m.

7:30 p.m.
Jim Doom left and returned.  He says Burger King refreshed his spirit.  The rest of our spirits are still in the process of slow rot.  

I just finished page 5 and have hit a road block.

Colonel Doom finished his script and is drawing faster than I’ve ever seen anyone draw.

I’m not going to ask the others about their progress.

6:09 p.m.
It’s starting to get dark. We’re 6 hours in. FFD is inking page 5. Colonel Doom is done with his script and is penciling his first page. DWMC is on 4, and DD has a weaponized triceratops drawn to lead off page 3. I just finished page 4.

I think I want to get out of here a lttle while for dinner.

Fin Fang Doom erasing his pencils on page 5:

5:23 p.m.
5 Hours in and I have 20 pages scripted and no art. Doom Where’s My Car is on Page 2, and it’s “practically writing itself.”

Fin Fang Doom is on page 4. His main character is dead.

Doom DeLuise is on Page 2 and has decided to incorporate space dinosaurs from the future.

Jim Doom just finished his third page, after a slow start.

Special Guest Doom N’ Gloom is on page 4.

We are running low on snacks.