Ink Pen by Phil Dunlap for November 24, 2020
November 23, 2020
November 25, 2020
Transcript:
Tyr: A flagon of mead!! Man: Sorry. I gotta cut you off, pal. Tyr: Cut me off? Why? Man: You've had, like, twenty-five, flagons. Tyr: Bah! Twenty-five flagons wouldn't get an infant drunk where I come from! Man: As wonderful as the land of drunken infants sounds, you can't have any mead. How's club soda? Tyr: Can I have it in a flagon?
Tyr, pull his finger if he sticks it in your face again!