The night before Robert and I wrote comics, I had a dream where we wrote comics. I woke up giggling away sleepily to myself, so I wrote down the comic we’d written in the dream, and went back to sleep. It was so funny and clever and hilarious in the dream; some of our best work.
When it came to real-life comic writing time, I looked at the script again and… wasn’t sure if the joke even made sense. So I read it to Robert and he just laughed and laughed, then said: “That is utterly incomprehensible. We have to run it.”
What’s interesting to me is that it has roughly the right format for a joke. The meter and timing are correct; it’s just the axiom the joke rests on is gibberish, and the there is no expectation that the punchline contradicts. Dreams are basically television that your brain makes up for you so that you don’t get bored while sleeping, but it’s like TV made by someone who’s only ever had TV shows described indirectly to them, by someone who doesn’t share a common language. Which Ben pointed out to me is the perfect description of Tim and Eric.
The latest method of fighting cancer is awesome, but the fact that it sounds like something out of Marvel Comics makes it even awesomer.
We didn’t make the mosquito sterilisation laser up, incidentally. We may have added the stuff about tiny people piloting them, though.
When we sat down to write a comic, Robert said “I have a strip already written,” and showed me the script for this one in its finished form. Which means it’s totally okay for me to honestly think it’s really funny whenever I read it.