I miss having the time to spend on comics but I am having fun writing from different character perspectives. I don’t think I have the skill (yet??) to really give each to them their own voice, but it’s fun to try :)

TEXT:

It was stupid in the morning when Gay and Sara burst into Prozac’s room. Normally he’d never presume to inflict his presence on anyone so early (Gay himself wasn’t usually up before 11) but he’d been up all night and drank his body weight in coffee so he perhaps wasn’t thinking straight. Sara was little help as she had no qualms with rudeness. She was fairly smirking as they burst through the door. The bucket of cold water thrown over the still sleeping Prozac and Cara was all Sara, and Gay bounced on his toes, half terrified of the inevitable reprisal, but also vibrating with his need to share their plan. It had really, REALLY been too much coffee for his system and the small naggy part of his brain was whispering about the imminent fallout. Perhaps he could get Lech to nurse him through the withdrawal headache with a nice, lingering massage… As a dripping Prozac roared out of bed and pinned Gay to the wall with one oversized fist, he reflected that perhaps he wouldn’t survive the morning and that Lech would get off the hook. How unfortunate. The idiot was actually really good at cuddling.

“What did you do that for?!” Prozac snarled in his face and Gay grimaced at the morning breath. Sara snarked off to the side, hips cocked and swinging the bucket by the handle. “OMG Prozac, I’m LITERALLY holding the evidence.”

Part-Hulked-Prozac squinted at her, looking confused. Cara’s tousled, and drenched, head weaved up from the blankets. She managed an articulate “Huh?” Then drooled a little.

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