The Gerbil Photo Contest Marches On

Right, so I met Esther Friesner back in college because she was my friend Mike’s mom, and later we were both guests at Non-Con in 2001. We had a public hamsters-vs.-gerbils debate in which I was soundly defeated. She really knows her hamsters.

I don’t have anything more to say about this installment, so here’s another old doodle from my sketchbooks:

I no longer remember what this means. Thank you.

7 thoughts on “The Gerbil Photo Contest Marches On

  1. A fluffernutter is the perfect sandwich to eat while contemplating the universe.  Both are in some ways wonderful, and in other ways terrifying; and in the end, neither can be fully understood by Modern Science.

    (TUNE: “Peanut Butter”, The Marathons)

    Here’s a sketch of a sandwich made of sticky sticky stuff!
    Fluffer … Fluffernutter!
    It’s made of peanut butter and of Marshmallow Fluff!
    Fluffer … Fluffernutter!
    The taste is so amazing, it fills you with awe …
    Fluffer … Fluffernutter!
    It’s sticking to your teeth, and cementing your jaw!
    Fluffer … Fluffernutter!

    Random sketch of old scenes,
    Don’t know what this one means,
    But I want the sandwich now!

  2. Fun fact about the One O’Clock Gun (the cannon Huey is perched on): The man who fires it is [i]Sergeant[/i] James [i]Shannon[/i]! (His nickname is, of couses, “Shannon the Cannon”).

  3. Weirdly, Helen’s mouth looks like she’s chewing, but the sandwich looks intact, as though she hasn’t yet taken a bite.  Ah, the wonders of mad biology…

  4. The bitten bit is behind her hand.

    That’s her second sandwich.

    She hasn’t started on the actual sandwich yet; she’s eating the leftover banana that didn’t fit in it.

    She’s developed regenerating fluffernutter sandwiches, and when she gets full and sticks it in the fridge for later, it’s going to grow out of control and burst out of the kitchen looking for vengeance on the creator who gave it life only to be mercilessly devoured again and again, and Mell will discover that blasting it apart only makes it grow faster and subpoenas have no effect, and just when all seems lost, Dave will absent-mindedly blast it into another dimension with a device made from one of those plasma globe thingies. Artie will have moral and ethical reservations about the whole affair, and become disillusioned when he discovers that the others don’t take him any more seriously when he’s a human than they did when he was a full-time rodent. Then everyone will go out for drinks.

    Pick your explanation!

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