When we last left our hero, he was hot on the trail of the mafia's magician, determined to let nothing stand in his way. Will he finally find him!? FIND OUT! I'm also happy to report that we've successfully filled our kitten quota for the quarter with today's page. Go team!

I was out bar-hopping with my friend Jake on Saturday night, and there was karaoke going on at a couple of them. Naturally, we just had to get in on that. Jake donned his blue 9/11 shirt, and I was sporting a red "100% Red-Blooded American" shirt, and we did a duet of Toby Keith's Courtesy of the Red, White and Blue. Little did we know that when you sing that song with as much of a southern drawl as you can muster, and your own dance routine in a bar in one of the hot spots for the state's white trash, you'd better be prepared to see some fists flying.

After we finished our song, there were some patrons clapping and hooting for us as we were returning our microphones to their respective stands, but there was a table up front that was a concentrated mass of white trash, beer and testosterone. These hicks started yelling at us, claiming that we'd done an act of treason by not treating the song with the respect it was due in light of its service to our great nation. If you have not yet heard the song in question, please take a moment to click the link I provided in the last paragraph so you can put this in perspective.

These guys were ready to throw down because we'd basically insulted Toby Keith, and in turn, America. I was fully prepared to defend my Constitution-given right to make fun of country singers with a well-placed flying dragon kick to the dome if I needed to, but the DJ intervened at this point, telling them to back off. The alpha hick was fuming with rage, and was quite visibly restaining himself from guiding his balled fist into the middle of the DJ's face. He finally settled on yelling "don't you EVER let it happen again," at our beloved spinner of the music discs and plopping back down in his chair to take a long pull off of his beer.

Jake and I went back to our respective stools and finished our drinks while reflecting on the whole ordeal with his wife. Needless to say, we left the bar and went to another one that was doing karaoke and did the same song.

USA! USA! USA!

Okay! Overdue double update here and here. These are the last two pages of the second chapter of NDSM, and while the last one there isn't exactly neccesary, I just love splash pages.

Trigger resumes on Monday, for serial this time. After we're finished with that, we're probably going to take a break and do some filler or something until we're finished with moving and getting the studio set up. Things have been busy for us the past couple of weeks, and the trend will continue for a couple of months here, so I'm not guaranteeing solid updates just yet. We shall see!

One last thing for any fellow metalheads that happen to be reading: My friend Cory's band, Lupara, just released their first music video that's scheduled to be on Headbanger's Ball at some point. Bonus: Mick Thomson guest stars as a fiendish person. Check the video and throw some horns at the bassist; I hear he smells like absolute mirth.

Yes, we are failures. Ant's trying to figure out the best way to fit the comic into his schedule since he started his "omfg give me money to get the fuck out of here" job. Hopefully we'll have things back on track in short order here, since I hate leaving stories hanging like this.

Ant ended up becoming incredibly busy and exhausted, putting a knife to my throat at the mere mention of today's page and demanded that we compromise with a double update on Friday. Artists are a jittery bunch, prone to fast and brutal acts of violence, so with that in mind I said that it shouldn't be a problem to fill his request, hoping I'd said the magic words that would make the blade retract from my flesh. A moment later I felt him releasing me from his iron grasp, and when I turned around he had all ready slinked into the shadows, presumably to acquire more cocaine to fuel his artistic vision and increasing lust for hand models. Art majors are weird.

Have a couple of weeks yet before the links are open here, and the increasingly nice days here are just igniting my golfing rage. Why would you make it so awesomely nice outside and not open the links, God?

Dear Peoples of the World of the Past,

I'm here in the future right now, and I'm sort of pissed that there still aren't flying cars. Plus my bruises still haven't healed. Lance gives awesome beatings, and I highly recommend you request one if you ever meet him. The password is "Omigod! Omigod!"

Here in the future, I'm regarded as a sexual goddess. Right around 29,324 A.D. the world became so overpopulated that sex was outlawed and all new citizens were licensed and grown in test tubes. And since the clones wouldn't be allowed to have babies anyway, they went ahead and snipped vaginas right out of the genetic code.

So I am the proud owner of the the future's one and only labia.

This page was planned out two years ago, but it's been brought to my attention that our company name there has since been used for the detective agency in the Penny Arcade game. The last two years I just thought it'd be a rad name for a real estate company, and I still think so, so Scott convinced me to just keep it. It isn't stealing if I thought of it before somebody else used it, right? Pretty sure that's valid. Pretty sure.

We've got one more week of NDSM left, then the conclusion of Trigger begins. After that? New book! I really like what we've got planned out for the next few weeks, and we're fast-approaching the 200 page mark, finally.

Oh, if anybody happens to own a run-down gas station in the middle of nowhere, I'm in the market. Call me.

Obviously I'm not brazenly assaulting my secretary hard enough as I'm forced to do this update myself, but nevertheless I will go on, pulled along by my trooper spirit.

Today's page is numbered 28 at the bottom for some reason, but I can assure you that it is most-definitely page 25. Instead of pointing things like this out, I could inform Ant of his mistakes so he can fix them, or just do it myself, but then I wouldn't have this whole good cop/bad cop thing going on. That shit sells, let me tell you.

I saw Grindhouse on Friday, and found it to contain equal parts awesome and suck. Planet Terror was great, old school grindhouse flick fun all the way. Everything, right down to the soundtrack was just spot-on. The trailers were almost equally as awesome.

Death Proof? Ehhhhh. It wasn't bad, but for the most part I was just bored to tears. I didn't care for any of the characters, save for Stunt Man Mike, so the 8,000 pounds of Tarantino dialogue just annoyed the shit out of me. It didn't really keep with the whole spirit of the thing, either, it just seemed, well... Tarantino. Honestly, I think the entire movie overall could have been a lot better if they would have had Death Proof first, and Planet Terror second. The way it is now, the pacing just seems way off, and that really bugged me. PERSONAL OPINIONS AND NOTHING MORE!

I'm going to get some sleep, but I'll leave you with this: bowling is an amazingly challenging experience when you're right-handed and left-eyed. OVERCOMING ADVERSITY!

Edit: Ant fixed the page number. Top drawer!

Mr. Benson's radical new strategy to get the other members of Supafine to update the site has proven half useful so far.

I have also been informed 'tits or gtfo'.

Mr. Benson won't allow me to post a shot of said tits, and I have no desire to 'gtfo', so if you really need those, feel free to contact me so you can be reassured that there are indeed tits.

I don't make any decisions, at least, not around these parts. I try not to draw attention to myself here because if I did, Lance might take notice of me and find out that I'm neither fun-loving, high-spirited, or flexible, and due to a terribly unhealthy habit I have of NOT EATING I'm losing my giant rack. And that scares me to the bone.

Anyway, some stuff I did recently but hate to death:
Photoshop doodles:
Duder
Some Lady

And some digital paintings I used to kind of 'learn' from, all are unfinished and chances are I won't touch them ever again:
Blech
Eeeehhh...
Holy cow.

And then there was some Illustrator work, I only have one on hand at the moment, more soon:
Pretty Sweet

But yeah you don't care so what's up? That's cool!

(also, sup /b/rothers)

Hello. Mr. Benson is too important to deal with this nonsense, so he has hired a sexretary to manage his affairs on this website.

Mr. Benson is currently in the hot tub with some fine, fine business associates, and has left me to introduce myself to you all.

I'm a 20something female with an unbeatable rack, and friends would describe me as fun-loving, high-spirited, and ... flexible. All attributes Mr. Benson finds highly desireable in all the people he hires.

Unfortunately, Mr. Benson doesn't allow me to leave the office and makes me sleep under my desk, or I'll end up losing my pension. And the benefits are amazing. ... If only I could see a doctor... This cut from his high-speed photocopier won't stop bleeding.

Oh god the coffee gong is sounding. He wants coffee. The horn means he wants cream.

And Steve? Mr. Benson would like a 10:30 appointment tomorrow morning to 'fucking fight you'. Call me and we'll set that up.

This page came out better than I'd seen it in my head. Thanks for being awesome, Andrew!

If any artists are looking for extra credit or something, we're in the market for a guest cover for our next full comic. Details will be provided on request, I'm just wondering if anybody would be interested in doing this. Covers for our existing stuff are welcome, too. I just thought it'd be, you know, fun. Drop us a line!

Finally, someone has turned my favorite dancing-drunk-in-a-bar song into a comic. I can now die satisfied; thank you, Hastings! Also: COME BACK, FUNRIS! I only meant half of the shit I said, man. YOU KNOW ME.

I'll be gone for the weekend once again, so if I don't happen to respond to e-mails until Monday, fuck you. LATER!

Live and let porch.

Edit: Well I'll be dicked, Fenris came back like 12 hours after I wrote this. I HAVE POWERS!

Monday's page is probably my favorite one from the current chapter. Some day I hope to get the opportunity to yell that line before kicking somebody in the dome. Anyways, here's today's.

For those who have been bugging us regarding the need to know how Trigger ends, it'll be rolling again in a couple of weeks as chapter 2 of NDSM comes to a close. Dan and I have been itching to finish it and get our next comic rolling. Our nails have been worn down to nubs from all the scratching of itching! SO PUMPED!

I'll be moving down to Madison sometime in June with Ant to live with our undead brethren, probably until the company picks up and moves west. Our services have been bought for a big huge secret project, and we're most-likely going to be busy with it for most of the year or more. It's too early to give details, but I should be making an announcement in a couple of months or so.

See you Friday, and I'd just like to mention that two other assholes are able to post to the front page, too, ASSHOLES. Turning into a regular Sea of Me around here. Yeesh.