Wednesday November 4, 2015
Thursday November 5, 2015
Oh man. The abundance of red milk and Anjou pears can't hide that the artwork has worsened noticeably, even since just the beginning of this week. Poor Frank isn't even signing his name anymore, he's just kind of scrawling his initials. The end is near.
In the meantime, it's helpful that at least Martin and Eric have different sports coats on now. (Right? Those are different people?) And I do appreciate Greg introducing himself in the most awkward way possible. It's hard to tell from Margo's reaction whether she's sustained some kind of memory loss or she's just a little disoriented from the Thy. Storm or the writing is just so bad, just so bad, why is it ending like this, why, uh huh huh huhhhhhhhhhh.... (NB: that's the sound of me dissolving into tears)