He waited for the security orb to kick in but it never did. He was INSIDE. Triple number for Hooktip, or close enough — 1 off.
Who to celebrate this occasion with? Why his wife of course: Martha Lamb. Or maybe (since animations are limited)… Shelley. Yes: Shelley.
She was, as usual, speed reading the famous or infamous red book, take your pick. It’s also flame retardant she’s heard.
“Hi Shelley. Sorry to hear about your castle.”
“That’s okay (read read read). There’s another one already there (read read). And Jacob’s I. (read) is asleep back on the bench at the Prog Rock Museum (read read read read read).”
“So I’ve heard.” Sid wanted to ask the obvious. Was this his daughter? ‘Nother one?
Sid was gone. Shelley was all grown up, having been through her Firesign Theatre period (“Piera”) and loving it. “Uncle Meatwad” — soo funny. Queer as well, but mainly funny. Both at once. It was all in the book…
… which was in her eyes now.
(to be continued)