The address was scrawled on the back of a used envelope and it led me to a dimly lit corner of the Palm Tree Office Plaza. I found the door I was told about: flaking green paint and a burn mark that looked like a top hat, and went in.

The dark lobby smelled of cigarettes and bug spray. A clown nose was stuck to the wall with a switchblade and I’m pretty sure the red mark on the floor beneath it wasn’t grease paint. I ducked under the police tape and stepped towards the counter, trying to avoid the remains of a balloon animal on the floor.

There was a cough from the counter and I looked up, to see a woman in a faded blue dress watching me. Her brown hair was up in a tight bun and she was smoking a cigarette. There was a large beauty mark on her left cheek.

“Whaddya want?” she said, blowing a smoke triangle towards the ceiling.

“I need to see the professional.”

She blew a smoke parallelogram, causing her beauty mark leap off and buzz about the room. “He ain’t in.”

“Meredith sent me,” I said, laying a buck fifty in loose change on the counter.

The change disappeared. “Take a seat.”

I found the chair with the smallest bloodstain and picked it up. The lobby itself was done in the same faded green paint as the door, with only a few old pictures on the walls for decoration. A single magazine lay on the floor in the middle of a chalk outline. It had a bullet hole in it.

My arms started to get tired from holding the chair. “What’s his story?” I asked, nodding at the outline.

The receptionist shrugged. “I heard he got on the wrong side of the clown mafia.”

“It’s the greasepaint,” I said. “Makes ‘em crazy.”

There was a buzz and the receptionist glanced down. “He’ll see you now.” She gestured towards the back. “First door on the left.”

I walked past her, banging the chair on her desk as I went by. She didn’t appear to notice. There were three doors in back and I went into the first on one the left. The room was empty save for an examination table, a rack of power tools, a pair of Italian loafers on a shelf, a saddle, a large stack of pizza boxes, and three years worth of Seventeen magazine sorted by month. So yeah, empty.

I sat on the examination table, letting the chair rest against my thighs. After a few minutes, the door banged open and a heavyset man with slumped shoulders shuffled in. He leaned against the wall and stared at me with his good eye.

The receptionist’s beauty mark buzzed by.

“So,” he finally said. “What can I do for you?”

“It’s my gall bladder,” I said. “It’s trying to kill me.”

Tomorrow: Part 2

So, as a distraction, here's a video of a cute kitten.



Honestly, this is one of the most adorable things I've ever seen and I'm not one to use 'adorable' lightly. When my niece was seven and dressed up as Tinkerbell for Halloween, I rated it as merely 'cute.' This is also when my mother declared that I was a soul-less robot.

I may have also been cut out of the will. I'll have to check.

Anyway, the page will be up as soon as Leigh's power is restored, hopefully on Wednesday.

Cheers,
-Jason

Hey all,

I just wanted to let you all know that the blogs will be back next week. I took this week off due to having surgery on Tuesday. Some of you may recall me complaining about my gall bladder trying to kill me, but I struck first and had the little bastard 'eliminated' when it wasn't looking.

So I spent most of this week sleeping and eating several times my body weight in soup. I'm feeling pretty good, all things considered, so look for new blogs next week.

Coincidentally, the first one will probably be about my surgery and how I had to fight a tyrannosaurus while wearing one of those gowns that opens in the back.

At least, I’m pretty sure it was a tyrannosaurus. It might have been a doctor in green scrubs. Which would also explain why I woke up with a black eye.

Cheers,
-Jason

Hello everyone, this is Leigh. I usually let Jason do all the blog posting, but I have a couple of things I wanted to mention.

Some of you have probably noticed that the page dimensions for updates have changed. This is part of the website redesign we’ve been talking about. In the upcoming months we’ll be making changes to the website design as well, all hopefully for the best. We’ll keep the updates coming as they are for the next several weeks but our plan is that beginning November 1st we will be returning to our original Tuesday/Thursday update schedule.

That’s right, two updates of Wayfarer’s Moon each week! As Jason has mentioned in earlier posts we will also be adding a second set of stories in the Wayfarer’s Moon Universe. These stories will be featuring various artists and we hope you’ll like them. In order to run more than one storyline and not create huge amounts of confusion we will be making changes to the website itself.

In addition to these other announcements, I have to admit that I have been negligent. I never mentioned that Shon Burke has been helping us out by inking several pages for us, specifically Wayfarer's Moon pages 154-156, 157 and also 160-162. He’s a talented inker and we’ve been lucky to work with him. You can see more of his work here http://barquiel.deviantart.com/ where he also has links to purchase some of the original inks he did for us. I’ll also be putting links up for that this week in the links section.

We expect to be working more with Shon on some of the upcoming stories we mentioned as well as future projects that we hope to be able to tell you about soon!

Thanks Shon!

We take two of the most feared creatures in the universe and then combine them into a force for good. Like the old saying goes, two wrongs make a right. Or is it don’t make a right? I forget. This may explain why my brother was so upset when I lost one of his Matchbox cars and then hit him to make up for it.

Moving on.

Combining ninjas and dentists would give us an unstoppable, nigh-invincible, and above all, stealthy method of eradicating our cavities.

Think about it. You’re at home, eating dinner, when suddenly the world goes black. You wake up two hours later and discover that you were face down in your spaghetti. After staggering to the bathroom to wash the marinara off your face, you realize that your teeth have that ‘just scraped by a metal object feeling’ and that there appears to be a new filling in your #21 molar. The bill taped to your shirt confirms it. You were just visited by a ninja dentist, who knocked you out, drilled and filled a cavity, and then billed your insurance (the cleaning was done by a ninja hygienist).

NOTE: I decided to look it up dental numbering. I was close. According to the FDI World Dental Federation Notation, molars are labeled 18, 17, 16, 26, 27, 28, 48, 47, 46, 36, 37 & 38. I also learned that there are multiple ways of numbering teeth. Also, the World Dental Federation sounds like a league where dentists wrestle each other and have names like ‘The Masticator.’

It would be perfect. You’d never have to worry about scheduling checkups, as your checkup would come to you. And you’d never have to be worried about the pain or inconvenience, as you’d be unconscious via subtle pressure point manipulation or a good old-fashioned bludgeoning.

Once people get accustomed to ninja dentists, the demand will go through the roof. Now I just have to get the funds for my Ninja College of Dentistry and Assassination.

Cheers,
-Jason