J.T.: Thanks for deciphering Filthius's crude language and behavior and making
your way here to today's preview page. In these panels, the group fights off an
ensuing pack of Goralons, yet to find themselves at a dead end... If you haven't
kept up with the first two stories, Goralons are the creatures under Thagnon's
command, who will stop at nothing to stop Fandar's guardian from--
Filthius: Wait, wait. I'm tired of hearing this rubbish. I am the master...of the
web here, and I say what is going on in the panels! You just sit in your little
room and draw, and I will take care of this!
J.T.: ...Excuse me just a moment. Filthius, leave me alone, I hired you, remember?
If I can't explain my own artwork, then maybe you should stick to being an executioner,
okay?
Filthius: I don't think so. We signed a contract. It says that I will become
master of the web, not you. I have taken charge. I am the head honcho. I
am the big cheese. It is I who gets to go to the company picnics, and to staff
brunches. You will do your part, which is snivel and cry and do your little
artsy thing in the background. That is the way it is.
J.T.: Big cheese is right.
Filthius: What did you say?!?!
J.T.: Nothing. Anyway, as I was saying before I was interrupted, our
heroes find themselves...find...themselves...Filthius, what are you doing with
that axe? Company policy forbids any weapons on the premises. Filthius? Filthius,
nooo! AAAAHHHHH!
Filthius: That should teach him. He ran back to his drawing room and
locked the door like a scared little boy. Now, to the explanation of the page:
there is no explanation for it! It is trash, and trash will be
burned upon the end of the business day. Thank you and please don't say another
word of encouragement for the little snot on the way out, or you may be
punished severely, or even beheaded. Good day, ladies and gentlemen.