It was the comedic equivalent of a jump scare. You’d start reading a strip that looked like a standard, poorly drawn newspaper comic about a lazy husband or a mischievous dog, and by panel four, the dog would be a towering, fleshy Eldritch horror consuming the husband’s entrails. The humor was born from the sheer audacity of the creator’s commitment to the bit, no matter how depraved the bit became.
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