Part Three of the Komic’s Origin Story
The Komic is the funniest comedian on the planet and is the super hero in a series of graphic novels I hope to write one day. All great superheroes have a great origin story.
A Recap of Parts 1 and 2:
Lily Puddly fell from a hospital window and landed on her head seconds after her birth. She was adopted by Bonnie Watson who ran the funeral parlor next door. Lily Puddly’s one talent was telling jokes, except no one realized it was Lily Puddly telling the jokes. They thought it was someone called The Komic. Everyone thought Lily Puddly was brain damaged and not capable of much intelligent thought, so no one saw through the disguise she wore whenever she performed at the Odd Port Comedy Club: Groucho Marx glasses and a T-shirt that said The Komic on it that she bought at Cafepress for $21.99.
When Bonnie Watson was dying she asked Lily Puddly to tell her a joke to ease her pain. Lily Puddly told the funniest joke she’d ever written and Bonnie Watson died laughing. After that, The Komic never finished a joke. She’d leave the stage claiming she couldn’t remember the endings. Even without punch lines her routines were the funniest ever performed. One night another comedian, Max Marie, had a very good set and two producers from Comedy Central offered him his own show. While he was in the restroom the producers asked the Komic if she really couldn’t remember the punch lines or was it all part of the act.
“Did Bonnie Watson die laughing?” The Komic asked herself. “Maybe she died while laughing. Maybe it was coincidence.” She told the punch line to the joke she had started earlier that evening, Pinocchio. The producers and a bartender who was with in ear shot died laughing. Max Marie hadn’t yet signed the contract with Comedy Central, so he was now The Komic’s archenemy because all super heroes need archenemies.
BTW, I’ve only drawn one quick sketch for The Komic, so I’m interspersing some super market cartoons through out this post. Think of them as messages from our sponsor, mchumor.com
The Komic Finds Her Destiny
A kindly looking old man waiting in line ahead of Lily Puddly read a tabloid headline aloud, “Two Headed Batboy is Being Considered for Secretary of the Interior. Where do they come up with this stuff?”
“I’m surprised Fox News didn’t lead with that,” Lily Puddly almost said, but didn’t. She hadn’t made a wise crack, much less told a joke, since the producers died laughing. She had declared to herself that The Komic was dead and symbolically placed her Groucho Marx glasses in an urn next to the urn containing Bonnie Watson’s ashes. She kept the Komic T-shirt because it was very comfortable, but she only wore it under her sweatshirt.
The headline triggered something in Lily Puddly’s brain. Joke upon joke upon joke sprang forth whole cloth, enough jokes to fill two-dozen sets.
“I need a price check for Green-Adult diapers,” the cashier said into the microphone. The old man who up until that moment had had excellent posture, slumped. Lily Puddly felt badly for him. She knew what it was like to be embarrassed.
Brain damaged Lily Puddly
Brain damaged Lily Puddly
Fell on her little head
And now settles with the dead
Brain damaged Lily Puddly
Brain damaged Lily Puddly
That was what the children at school chanted when she walked into class.
“Those diapers,” a voice on the PA asked, “Regular or absorbent?”
“Extra-absorbent,” a nasty boor behind Lily Puddly yelled. The old man slumped further and stared intently at his shoes.
Lily Puddly wanted to say something to ease his embarrassment. The pressure built within her.
“This cashier is so slow she’ll never have to worry about carpal tunnel,” Lily Puddly thought, but didn’t say. It wasn’t really a funny line and, more important, it was cruel. There was little Lily Puddly hated more than cruel humor.
Lily Puddly tried to distract herself. She looked for a headline about global warming, genocide or someone drowning kittens, but all the news of the day was heartening. Lily Puddly desperately scanned the aisles. “Where is a frazzled shopper yelling at an unruly two-year-old when you want one?” she thought. “They’re always here when I have a migraine.”
Lily Puddly started to tell a joke and didn’t realize the monologue that was going on in her head was tumbling out of her mouth until she saw that the old man was laughing. He was so wrapped up in her story he didn’t even flinch when a voice on the PA asked, “Econo or Jumbo pack?”
“Super-Jumbo,” the boor behind Lily Puddly yelled.
“Go on,” the old man said to Lily Puddly. “The mechanic drains the shrimp bisque from the carburetor and then what?”
Lily Puddly knew she needed to stall, needed to make a short story long because everyone in line was laughing and hanging on to her every word.
“I thought it’d be impossible for this cashier to get any slower, but she has,” Lily Puddly thought while she struggled with her story. Tears were now leaking out of everyone’s eyes.
Lily Puddly breathed a sign of relief when the cashier put the last of the old man’s bags in a cart.
“And?” the old man asked as he stuffed the receipt in his pocket and waited for Lily Puddly to finish.
“Finish the story,” the cashier said. Lily Puddly indicated that the woman should keep scanning while she continued. To speed things up Lily Puddly bagged her own groceries.
Lily Puddly looked at her watch and said, “Oh dear I’m late for a funeral.” She pulled a $100 bill out of her wallet–at least double what she owed–threw it on the counter, grabbed her groceries and ran out of the store.
The bewildered cashier waved the bill and shouted, “Don’t you want your change?“
“And the punch line! What’s the punch line?” the boor who was behind Lily Puddly shouted.
The boor ran after Lily Puddly and grabbed her elbow. “Come on. You can’t leave without telling us the punch line.”
The pressure inside Lily Puddly was intense. All the while she was weaving joke that turned into a long convoluted story she was silently screaming to herself “Do-not-get to-the-punch-line-do-not-say-the-punch-line-out-loud …”
“I’m not budging until you tell me the punch line,” the boor said.
Lily Puddly so wanted to blurt it out. Holding in a punch line was agony and gave her a headache. The boor was not a nice man, but did he really deserve to die laughing?
“You really want to hear the punch line?” she asked. The boor nodded his head. Lily Puddly pulled up her sweatshirt so the boor could see her Komic T-shirt underneath.
“Do you know who I am?” she asked.
Up until then he’d just thought of her as brain damaged Lily Puddly, incapable of doing much of anything. How could her alter ego have been the brilliant Komic? But he recognized the T-shirt. Anyone on the planet with access to the internet would have recognized the T-shirt since videos of the Komic’s routines, even without the punch lines, were funnier than hell.
“Yes,” the boor whimpered. “You’re The Komic.”
“Still want to hear the punch line?” she asked. The boor was terrified.
Lily Puddly got in the boor’s face and said, “If I ever see you harassing someone again, I’ll tell you the punch line, and you know what that means.”
“I’ll die laughing,” the boor whimpered.
“Yes, you’ll die laughing,” Lily Puddly said as she walked away, feeling happy for the first time since Bonnie Watson died. She now had a purpose in life: to stop mean people from being mean.
Next: The Komic gets a side kick because every great superhero needs a side kick.
More Grocery Store Cartoons that can be licensed for use in presentations, books, magazines, websites and templates for sheet cake frosting designs.