So Long, and Thanks for all the Hot Dogs

As usual, with any strip featuring Honey interacting with other people, the size difference between Honey and every single other person on Earth created problems. Mainly, in this case, due to the car. Indeed, in several panel, she seems to be standing on the seat.
I wouldn't really trust that car, though: there aren't any seatbelts, or a rear-view mirror. It doesn't look like there's glass in the windows either. Mark is -- was -- quite a terrible parent for driving his daughter anywhere in that vehicle.

Honey is one of the easier characters to draw, because her body proportions are all out of whack. She has no real sense of anatomy about her, like Calvin or Charlie Brown, except in that generalised little-kid-with-big-head style. I worry about her mental development, not only because of horrible events like her father being brutally murdered and her mother not really giving that much of a shit about her, but also because she's got to be about five years old now and she's still talking like she learned how to talk sometime last week. It's possibly due to Kali not saying anything to her and Mark being fucking retarded himself. Honey is a typical child of the Western world in that she is largely raised by her surrogate parent, television. Television shows Honey many wonderful things like That Man In The Back Of The Car Whose Neck Goes All Noodly (the Kennedy assassination), That Man Who Smiles When He Lies (Tony Blair) and That Woman Who Looks Like Mummy With No Clothes On Who Says Bad Words (from Kali's private collection).

The brick wall backdrop makes yet another appearance. That background portends bad things for anyone nearby. Or possibly it just portends my laziness in being bothered drawing backgrounds. It wasn't until drawing this strip that I realised that cars are really awkwardly proportioned: it's hard to get a viewpoint that shows both the people sitting in the seats and shows the events going on behind the car, through the back window. That's why everything that was supposed to happen in the window ended up happening over the roof instead.

So long, Mark. No-one really liked you and you outstayed your welcome by a few too many strips. The Hot Dog Eating Championship Circuit will mourn you, but no-one else will. Except possibly your cabbage-headed daughter, who seems to like you for some reason. Perhaps it is because you had the same build as a Teletubby. You will be buried under a Hot Dog shaped monument along with all the other weiners.

And so, another one bites the dust. The title is a clever reference to some book or other, I don't know. I wrote it, but like I know what the hell I write. Initially, David tried to convince me, based on the title and his hatred for Mark, that Mark should actually be from another planet, and he should simply leave via a poorly-animated panel, followed by a title card that says "Mark died returning to his home planet."

But we swore no more rip-offs homages to the Simpsons. So I killed off Mark properly and did a very, very small homage to the film version of Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, if you notice it.

Poor Mark, he tried his best to be a good father, he really did -- he paid more attention to her than Kali ever did. Then again, Mark is nothing if not just a giant child himself, so what do you expect, really? Too bad we killed him this year, for we had so many plans for him next year: stealing a hot dog cart, feeding Honey nothing but hot dogs for a week, and a new, mysterious rival challenges his title as Milton Hoight hot dog eating champion, not to mention a musical episode where Kali and ensemble put on Rocky Horror Picture Show, which would have not only featured Mark as Dr. Frank N Furter (for more than one reason) but a cameo by everyone's favorite angry webcomic artist when we then had their show shut down by Richard O'Brien. But tough shit, he's dead.