Gibson Twist
I am a wiggly worm, sir.
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A donair is a specific kind of doner kebab, with particular ingredients and characterized by a creamy sweet/sour sauce.
I'm going to shout out to Khalid, even though he almost certainly will never read this. Khalid was just the cook at our local donair shop back in the day, but he made the motherfuckingest of donairs, so when I remade the world, his name went on the sign. Cheers, Khalid, thanks for feeding us when we were too stoned to cook.
I would open the door for Satan themself if they had donairs.

Non-Canadians are googling 'donairs' right now.
Yes, that panel took me forever. I'm still drawing it.
I know what you're thinking, but Lauren doesn't care if Sam drinks straight from the carton. She does get mad when Christo drinks straight from the coffee pot.
What kind of sandwich do you think that is?
I wonder how long that sociopathic photographer made that poor kitten hang there while they took pictures of it.
Chapter Four, Talk To Me
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Chapter 3 ends.
I've been lax in posting comments recently, but I think this scene is served by a little silence on my part anyway.
Did you know you can read the next TWO chapters in their entirety (and exclusive PoY illustrations and more) on Patreon for as little as a dollar? And that doing so helps us keep making the comic? It's all true. Go here for more:
@Onyxlight: No, no, not at all, no. I mean, no.
The answer to all of those questions is I Don't Know. We're probably not related, but I suppose we may have partied adjacently a time or two, I've been known to get around. But yeh, Netflix could do worse.
That was pretty awesome of you. Thanks for doing it and letting us link to them!
There are far too many appropriate Joy Division tracks to include them all!
The only comments I think I could make here are that sometimes shocking events can spark refelctive moments and we don't always like what we see, and a single good deed doesn't make anyone a good person any more than a single bad deed makes someone a bad person. I don't know if that crystalizes one way or the other, and maybe it shouldn't. An in-depth report on the real events that inspired this might be more confusing than clarifying because this is a mash of a lot of different things as well as a healthy amount of fiction, and we were all assholes some of the time.
Maybe the moral is never trust anyone who says you can trust them.
Thank you and apologies to Perry Farrell.
This is the dirtiest page of Pictures of You, past or future.

It gets dirtier.

Be respectful.