Chapter 17 | Page 3b: Hot Stuff

Posted on December 19, 2025 by Brad Guigar

Today’s page takes us back to Ralph’s Diner, where Captain Heroic proves—once again—that nothing rattles him… not even a surprise soup bath.

Hailey is mortified, Captain Heroic is dripping, and somewhere across the diner, Yazmine Velour is livestreaming the whole thing as heart emojis rain from the internet. It’s a small moment, but one that says a lot about who Cap really is—and why people can’t help falling for him.

Transcript

Panel 1
Hailey (distraught that she has dumped hot soup on Captain Heroic): Omigod Omigod Omigod…

Captain Heroic (turning to another person eating at the diner): Excuse me. Would you hand me a napkin, please? (The person hands him a napkin)

Panel 2

Hailey: I’m so sorry Captain Heroic, sir. I didn’t mean to — {sob}

Panel 3

Captain Heroic (handing her the napkin): Here. Please don’t cry.

Panel 4

Captain Heroic (continues): Most of my first impressions involve disintegration rays. And actual impressions. In concrete.

Panel 5

Captain Heroic: This was far more pleasant — not counting the bay leaf in my shirt.Yazmine Velour (as she livestreams the interaction from the other side of the diner, a torrent of heart emojis flow from her phone as the audience reacts): Omigod Omigod Omigod

After Dark

This week's commissioned MicroFic delivers exactly what you’d want from a pairing between Dynasty and Father Christmas.

  • Yes, he lives up to his name.

  • Yes, Dynasty knew exactly what she was doing.

  • No, the North Pole will never be the same.

I also posted the Goblin Girl MicroFic from the Monster Girl poll — and the response was so good, I might need to make these poll-powered MicroFics a recurring thing!

On sixteen years of Wedded Bliss

Posted on October 6, 2014 by Brad Guigar
Reposted from my Facebook page over the weekend:

On sixteen years of Wedded Bliss…

So, last night, my wonderful in-laws took the boys on a sleepover, and Caroline and I celebrated our anniversary with a date night. She found an incredible Mexican restaurant in South Philly, Plaza Garibaldi, and we toasted 16 fantastic years over margaritas. When I think about what I’m most thankful for, I’d have to say it’s Doctor Who on the BBC. In 1998, I was a guy with an upwardly mobile newspaper job. I left for work wearing a tie and suspenders every day. And, sure, I worked a night shift then, but I was going to be the Assistant Graphic Editor. And, then, the Graphics Editor. And after that… who knows? But it looked pretty damn sweet. Fast forward to Now. I go to work in jeans and a T-shirt. I call myself a cartoonist, for chrissakes. I self-publish books, sweat over stuff like shipping and Internet stats. I still work the night shift. And the day shift. And any other shift I can fit in there. When I’ve written something I think is funny, I’m insufferable. And when that doesn’t happen, I’m worse. And since the kids came along, we live in a frat house. My wife lives in fervent hope of getting through one meal — just one — without poop jokes. Or farts. Or fart jokes. Or a quote from Teen Titans Go. Or a round of 20 Questions — Which Marvel Villain Am I. Life is a whirlwind of school, homework, swimming lessons, choir, judo, did-we-pay-that-bill, did you remember to schedule this, what do you want from the grocery store, and when are we gonna find time for that. It’s questions like “do you think that’s pink eye?” and “does this look like mouse poop?” And that’s why I’m thankful for Doctor Who on the BBC. Because, if he were real… and if he showed up before she walked down the aisle 16 years ago… there’s nobody in their right mind who could fault her from stepping into the Tardis and getting the hell out. She’d still have time to build a life that would look more like the one she had in mind. But the good Doctor is on a sound stage in Wales. And we’re here in Philadelphia. Together. Happy. Healthy. Parents of a couple of beautiful kids. And as nuts about each other as we were 16 years ago. Maybe more.