Join the Army

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Join the Army

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Dear Michigan Militia who may be reading this comic.

Please don’t mistake us for Red Coats the next time we’re in Michigan.

Thank you,

Jeff & Clara

PS: Welcome to Season 4 of Cripz. Yay!

TRANSCRIPT:

Cell 01

CAPTION: First day back to school

Rhett:
Man, it feels like we just left this place…

Griff:
Yooo, Gordo! How was your summer, man? Do anything fun?

Cell 02

Gordo:
Surprisingly. Left this god-forsaken town. Did a pre-packaged vacation.

Rhett:
Oh ya? Where’d you go? Europe?

Gordo:
Michigan. Militia Compound. One month.

Cell 03

Gordo:
Really looked forward to it too. Spend time with my kinda people; gun owning, freedom loving patriots.

Not the granola munching, Marx humping, science-o-philes we got up here in Canuckistan.

Cell 04

Gordo:
But low and behold, when I arrived I discovered something was rotten in the state of Michigan—they’d gone soft. None of them had even killed someone before. If you haven’t spilled blood before how can we trust you to do it when King George comes back to get what’s his?

Cell 05

Gordo:
The whole lot of them had gone soft since 1776. It was my responsibility, my duty to the home of the brave and land of the free, to whip these lard asses back into shape.

Cell 06

CAPTION: First, I had to get rid of the current commander. With him out of the way, taking the throne would be a piece of cake.

Militia Man:
This is bull-crap. Do I look like Osama bin Laden? We killed that guy months ago!

FBI Agent:
This is for your own safety, sir. Bin Laden has magical powers we can’t even begin to understand…

Cell 07

CAPTION: Next, I had to implement a new fitness and nutrition regiment.

Gordo (standing on a dead bear with a bite out of it):
You kill it, you eat it.

Cell 08

CAPTION: But when I starting teaching them how to properly interrogate a captured enemy they said the militia wasn’t “fun” anymore and they kicked me out.

Gordo (holding a bucket and towel as they walk away):
Can’t take a little water boarding, you babies?!

Cell 09

Gordo:
So I decided to take my ball and go home. And their balls too…and by balls I mean assault rifles. Good luck stop the red coats now, you ragamuffins.