Hopefully you guys can tell what’s happening here. Panel 5/6 would definitely benefit from animation.
Sydney’s mishap brought to you by a true story. Before I explain though, I should make sure everyone is familiar was fajitas. Having lived in Texas for over 30 years I don’t want to take that for granted. I’m sure Tex-Mex exists in some form or another all over the US and even outside of it, though outside of Texas, the chance that it’s still called Tex-Mex drops precipitously. Sometimes labeled Southwestern or Mexican food, even though proper Tex-Mex bears only a passing resemblance to actual Mexican food.
Anyway, fajitas are seasoned and grilled meat, usually steak or chicken, sometimes shrimp, although in Sydney’s case here it’s portobello mushrooms, (especially good with chimichurri sauce) then cut into strips and served DiY style, basically build your own burrito with several side dishes containing some combination of rice, beans, lettuce, sour cream, cheese, guacamole, etc. The fajitas themselves, at least in every place in Texas I’ve had them at, are served on a broiling hot cast iron skillet along with onions, mushrooms, peppers or even squash. The skillet itself rests on a wooden plate designed specifically for the fajita skillet.
So here’s what I did – nearly the same thing as Sydney, but I caught myself before resting the back of my hand on the skillet. Instead I felt the heat from it and smartly thought to push it away from my hand. Except, like Sydney, the tortilla was covering my hand, so when I lowered my hand to push the wooden plate away, I didn’t see that I hadn’t lowered it far enough, and I wound up pressing the tip of my finger against the skillet and not the plate. About 1 second later, I yanked my hand away and threw my sour cream covered tortilla on to the back of the head of the person sitting in the booth behind me. It was embarrassing and startled them and everyone at my booth as well. But it was pretty funny once the throbbing in my finger subsided. Actually it was immediately funny, but it still hurt like a sumbitch. The team is in a private dining room so I thought I’d have Sydney lob her payload forward instead.
I’m not sure about Maxima’s shirt. I wanted to put her in something other than a black baby doll, but the open slots on the shoulders guarantees that bra straps will be seen. It doesn’t seem like a shirt she would wear in public, but besides dinner here she’ll probably keep her jacket on.
Oh and about the mini-comic – “Box social” is the funniest term I could find for a distaff counterpart to “sausage party.” Most of the other ones were predictably much more rude, but I think “box” is the funniest (and most nonsensical) euphemism for that business anyway.
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