Man, every idea Vlad has is like solid gold.

And David Bowie knows something about solid gold.

These are very Bowie-esque commercial ideas.

The juxtaposition in the last panel would make John Updike lose control of his bowels.

And then the guy dies of lung cancer. Boy, don't I feel like a douche.

Chubbies and bad timing often go together.

Because Phillipe should be in every strip that suicide is discussed.

"Is perhaps most basic idea."

That's what gets me. How the fuck is someone's pants ballooning and carrying the wearer into some live power lines in any way basic? I would love to live in the reality where that kind of shit is just ho-hum casual.

You see a subway employee finish a sandwich by pulling the top half of the loaf slowly over a cold cut combo topped with tomatoes as the camera cuts to the paramedic pulling the sheet over Jared's disfigured skull.

Obviously Vlad would print things out in a monospaced, dot matrix printer style.

I'm pretty sure that's just his handwriting!

printer-pants.

I imagine Flod more like Gorbachev in the Simpsons episode where Bush Sr moves in across the street.

"Brink present for warmink of house". Thataways.

You're telling me. The "Eastern European-esque bad grammar" thing has been my favorite way of generating hilarity ever since I started trying to say funny things.

I did not even see that god damn movie and it is making me look like a DAMNED FOOL.

But why the fuck would you do that.

Even though that last panel is awesome, we all know that Jared will never get laid.

I dunno man, I'd probably do him if it meant I'd get some free subs out of it.

jared fogel COME ON SHOW ME HIM NAKED

I dig the Dead Kennedys Alt Text: CALIFORNIA UBER ALLES!

Jared is eatink a Meatball Sub. Is SO juicy. Anyway, disgruntled employee hates Jared for makink store popular, slips razor blade into meatball. Jared falls to the ground, blood pourink out his mouth. Cut back and forth between spreading pool of blood and marinara sauce.

Camera pans up over crest of hill to reveal lines of desperately fighting confederate and union soldiers. It is Amercan Civil War. Soldiers fight in mud with bayonets like animals. Corpses litter the mud and the the vultures, they circle their coming feast.

Jared, in uniform of southern officer, stands behind crumbling confederate line. Black-skinned union soldiers impale the last of Jared's men and begin to advance on him, eyes full of fury at the atrocities against their kinsmen that Jared embodies.

Jared, crying, places his officer's pistol against own temple and pulls trigger. Is no bullets; we hear click.

As grim, vengeful soldiers slowly advance on Jared, cut back and forth between crowd of eager subway customers heading to party sub platter and each cutting off chunk of sandwich.

Jared sits by window, single light bulb hankink above his head. His hand is reachink for bottle of pills on bedside table (Jared cannot bring himself to shoot, is such like woman.) He looks out window and sees girl in perfect white dress. She is crying, crying at his life. He looks back at pills, cut from hand reachink for pills to Sandwich Artist selecting fresh meats and crisp veggies for fresh cold cut combo. No one will miss him.

Is perhaps most classic Vlad.

The most classik he is ever beink.

Until he is SO classic.

Everyone knows it was Jared because the child is born with a high hairline and goofy smile.

And the child was born wearing a loose-fitting shirt, which it NEVER takes off in public.

Jared crash-lands on desert island. He is alone and swept by winds and waves. Time lapses; he grows a beard and loses his shirt. By the end he is stripped to a loincloth, emaciated. As the camera pans over his skeletal form taking its last breath, cut back to images of healthy, attractive woman working out and eating Subway Fresh Fit combo.

Jared sleeps in his bed. A gentle creak is heard somewhere in the house. Perhaps it is the house settling? The creak nears. Jared's eyes open, look left, look right. He breaks into a cold sweat. Quickly, he rises from his bed and sneaks towards his closet, from which he can see the moonlight entering his doorway. He awaits a shadow.

The mask of a ninja materialises silently from behind him, rising up to become visible over his shoulder. Without a word of warning the ninja brings his sword up and beheads Jared. Cut back and forth from head rolling on floor to ingredients for Sweet Onion Chicken Teriyaki bouncing in that white, sterile space used in all Subway ads.

Jared is in tighter than should be white wife beater, starink in bathroom mirror. He hates what mirror shows him; it also shows insides, which are totally like wiener. He grits teeth with sadness and hate, and realizes this makes him look more like wiener. Jared is then turnink on shower, opens window, and falls to death nine stories. Cut to perspiration on vinyl shower curtain and to perspiration on fresh sliced tomatoes in BMT on Italian Herb & Cheese.