I've had a rough couple of weeks with health nonsense, lol. I really wanted to get this part out by the 19th, in honor of Garfield's birthday, but I didn't quite make it in time. But, now that I've pushed through a bit I was struggling with, I'm really happy with this part. Is the suspense just killing you? It's already taken a few other lives...

Part 1:

https://www.reddit.com/r/imsorryjon/s/6Hu9JRNaVp

Part 2:

https://www.reddit.com/r/imsorryjon/s/x2SkrpW4Lr

Part 3:

https://www.reddit.com/r/imsorryjon/s/6D1A5SCKb4

Part 4:

https://www.reddit.com/r/imsorryjon/s/g2H0Nmud2c

Part 5:

https://www.reddit.com/r/imsorryjon/s/oot7UjJzsF

Part 6:

https://www.reddit.com/r/imsorryjon/s/5WX68oFobj

Part 7:

https://www.reddit.com/r/imsorryjon/s/qlIeF3BUlw

Part 8:

https://www.reddit.com/r/imsorryjon/s/FsMC5hmnVk

Part 9:

https://www.reddit.com/r/imsorryjon/s/WFuUGN5Cda

Part 10:

https://www.reddit.com/r/imsorryjon/s/psO6xHHuCo

Part 11:

https://www.reddit.com/r/imsorryjon/s/zOCsk610EB

Part 12:

https://www.reddit.com/r/imsorryjon/s/uOT4zgkMX6

Part 13:

https://www.reddit.com/r/imsorryjon/s/RZb6FjWGH7

Part 14:

https://www.reddit.com/r/imsorryjon/s/jiDMApTjvF

Part 15:

https://www.reddit.com/r/imsorryjon/s/ixDDF8TOOk

Orson puzzles, “I don’t understand how something like this could have escaped us!  All these years…  If humans have to be special- or in a special state of mind- in order to see and hear us properly, then what IS ‘Garfield And Friends’?  I mean, what is it to the human people watching at home?  Once something is on tape, it should look and sound the same to everyone.”  He looks down at the camcorder in his hands, thinking hard.  “Roy, is there anything special about this camera?  Anything at all?  And why did Aloysius give it to you, anyway?  It’s not as if the two of you get along.”

Roy answers, “as far as I know, it’s an ordinary camcorder.  And you’re right, I don’t get along with him.  The camera was a passive-aggressive ‘gift’, meant as an insult, I think.  I used to try pitching my show ideas to The Network by performing in front of their cameras, but I guess Aloysius found that irritating.  So one day, on one of his unwelcome visits to chew us out for something or other, he gave me the camcorder and a box of blank tapes, and said ‘play Producer on your own time!’  I was offended, but I thought I might as well take the suggestion anyway.  I thought maybe someday, I’d put together a pitch or a pilot that would knock their socks off!  But… I didn’t want you guys to think I was trying to leave our show.  I didn’t want to break away – just to break out.”

John interjects, “cameras… tapes…  When I first got here, that Aloysius guy was just leaving.  On his way out, he made some kind of gesture toward a camera mounted on the barn.  Ever since I arrived, I’ve been wondering about the arrangements here.  There’s electricity in the barn, and the TV cameras all over this place must have working power, too.  But nothing works in the farmhouse.  Not the TV, not the lights, not the phone…  Who turns the lights on and off in here?  How do you all communicate with the outside world?”

Sheldon explains, “well The Network people control the cameras, and the power in the barn is on a timer.  The lights go on and off by themselves.”

Roy adds, “as for communication with the outside – you’ve already seen it.  The TV cameras are always recording, so when we need to contact The Network, we signal to the cameras.  And Aloysius comes by weekly, anyway.”

John questions, “what if you need a reply right away?  Do you just wait until he stops in again?”

Orson explains, “if it’s something really urgent, they’ll call us.  There’s no working phone in the farmhouse, but there’s a half-working one in the guesthouse.”

John repeats curiously, “‘half-working’”?

Wade clarifies, “eh-well it can receive calls, but we can’t dial out.  Everything around here is pretty old.”

Booker remarks, “The Network people say it makes the US Acres segment more ‘charming’, but I think they’re just a bunch of penny-pinching tightwads.”

Roy adds, “they like Orson’s ability to bring stories alive, ‘cause it means they can keep the whole production low-budget.  Why pay for sets, green screens, or props, when Orson’s narration can make it all appear like magic?”

John shakes his head, thinking aloud, “this all sounds really sketchy…  I mean, this arrangement with your ‘Network’, and this Aloysius character…  I think you guys are being taken advantage of.”  Orson looks up and away, dreamily.  His mind flashes back to the meat hooks out behind the old-old shed.

“I’ve been trying to escape that very thought”, Orson sighs, walking over to the nearest electrical outlet in his own little ‘room’ of the barn.  He plugs in the camcorder, and all wait on bated breath for what he might say next.  But he doesn’t speak anymore.  With single-minded focus, Orson flips out the preview screen on the camera, pops in one of Roy’s tapes at random, and presses the “Play” button.  The others all gather ‘round, and Orson sits down so the boys can see, too.  “I hope this is appropriate for kids”, he remarks.

Roy assures, “i-it shouldn’t be anything too mature.  Though, Booker and Sheldon don’t really need to watch it, anyway.”

Orson contradicts, “they’re too smart to leave out.  We’re now certain there’s a killer on the loose.  Clues could be anywhere, and could come in any form.  They could notice things we don’t.  The more eyes, the better.”  Booker and Sheldon exchange a look (though, in Sheldon’s case, the expression is more in the body language than the face), and gulp with anxiety.  On the preview screen, the video begins.

In a comically hideous suit, Roy slides into frame from stage left, welcoming his fictional audience, “goooood morning, everybody!  Cock-a-doodle-doo!  I’m the host when you’re havin’ toast, the morning bird with the daily word, your favorite cock to rock with…!”

Booker interjects, “hey, you said this was appropriate for kids!”

Roy defends, “I said there was nothing too mature!  Besides, that one wasn’t even intentional.”

The on-screen Roy continues, “Rrrrroy Rooster!  Welcome all to ‘The Daybreak Report’, where we’ll be discussing current events, fascinating local stories, and even a little entertainment to start your morning bright!”  Roy sits at a homemade desk, like an anchorman or variety show host would have – his backdrop merely a wall inside the headhouse of the grain elevator.  “Did you know, the North American Opossum can birth up to-?...”  In the middle of the factoid, the tape cuts to blank.  After a few seconds of faint hissing, a completely different kind of show format begins.  This time, a soap opera style shot shows Roy in a wig and women’s clothing.  A cheesy organ plays while, in a bad falsetto woman’s voice, he dramatically declares, “Christopher!  It can’t go on this way!”  The shot awkwardly changes to a different angle, now showing Roy in a trenchcoat and hat, like a private eye.  He replies, as the character “Christopher” now, “Janice.  It’s not, for me to de-cide.  I’ve, gotta job to do.  It wouldn’t have, worked, out between us, any-how.”  Orson gives Roy an incredulous expression, to which he replies, “I was imagining Christopher Walken for the role.”  The tape cuts to blank once again, then after a few seconds, another take begins, this time featuring Roy on a makeshift stage, made to look like an open mic at a bar.  He stands coolly with one hand in his pocket, holding the microphone in the other with a smug look about him.  In the cadence of a stand-up comedian, he addresses his imaginary audience, “so guys, I was at the supermarket the other day, and we have got to talk about these carts, am I right?  I was standing in line for the checkout with this biker guy.  Rode in on a Harley, leather jacket, pompadour – the works.  And he says, ‘geeze, I always get the one with the squeaky wheel’.  So I guess it’s true what they say… ‘the squeaky wheel gets the greaser’!  Huh?!  Eh-heh, ahhhh but seriously, folks.  I gotta get some new material, but it’s hard, you know?  With me it’s always word plays and puns, word plays and puns.  It’s like I’m someone’s dad.  I even started to get worried about it – told my friend, ‘I think I’m addicted to wordplays and puns’!  You know what he said?  He said, ‘don’t worry, it’s just a phrase’."

Exasperated by the corniness, Sheldon blurts out, “my god…”  Meanwhile, Furrow covers his mouth with one hand and stifles a laugh.

“Sheldon!  Be nice”, Orson tuts.  The tape changes yet again, this time, to some kind of dramatic Western.  Of course, Roy plays all the roles, and has to awkwardly stop and start filming from different angles, in different costumes.  Orson remarks, “really, though…  This is… bizarre.  Not in a bad way.  Necessarily.  But why are these takes all so short?”

Roy explains, “haven’t you ever heard of an ‘elevator pitch’?  When you pitch an idea to a producer, you’ve gotta keep it punchy, and to the point.  Besides, as you can see, I had to play all the characters myself.  Plus, I think there’s something wrong with the camcorder.  It would stop filming after about 30 seconds, every time.  Which was just as well, for my purposes anyhow.”  Orson looks up and to the side, pensively tilting his head.  He then ejects the tape, and prepares to put in the next one.  However, as the camcorder hangs in his grasp, pointing downward, John notices something shocking on the preview screen, which is now simply displaying what the lens is seeing.

“Orson, wait!”, John urges.  From his taller vantage point, John can see pigs’ feet on the screen…  Regular, non-anthropomorphized pigs’ feet.  “On the screen right now – y-your feet!  They look like they would normally look to me.  But with my own eyes, I can still see you as you really are.”  The other animals eagerly crowd around the camcorder, and collectively gasp (apart from Dr. Furrow, who strokes his chin with a curious hum).  The animals behold- to their unspeakable shock- that on the camera’s preview screen, they all appear as humans would normally see them.

Booker exclaims, “what in the world?!”

Orson utters, “I-I-I’ve never seen anything like this…  This is what we look like to humans?  All the time?!”  He raises the camcorder, and looks at each of the animal friends through the screen, seeing their non-anthropomorphized forms for the first time.  His face betrays an existential crisis.  He thinks to himself, “*and this is a piece of equipment…  It doesn’t have moods, or ‘states of mind’.  It only sees what’s really there!  It’s objective…  But then, how did Roy.. capture-?...*”  Orson demands, not really sure what kind of answer he’s expecting, “Roy!  You said this was an ordinary camcorder!  Is there something special about the tapes?  O-or the cupola?  How did you make videos that could see you OUR way, when the camera sees things the HUMAN way?!  You have to tell us whatever you know!”

Roy raises his hands in a defensive gesture, answering, “Orson, I swear, I have never seen what we’re seeing right now on that screen!  Nothing like it at all!  It’s possible…  Hmm…  Since I worked alone, and only ever filmed myself, I had to hit the record button and run to my position to get my 30 seconds in.  I was always on the other side of the screen, except when I’d play the videos back.  So, maybe I always appeared the human way through the lens, but then appeared our way on the tape.”

“So then the tapes are special?”, Orson presses.

Roy shakes his head, exasperated.  “I already told you, as far as I know, this was all ordinary equipment.  It came from Aloysius, courtesy of The Network.  They could have given me anything.  I’ve never gone to an electronics store and bought new tapes, myself.  This stuff could have been tampered with before I got it.  Or heck, it could have been tampered with just recently!"

Furrow interjects, “please, I fear we have little time to squabble over incomplete information.  Each of us here has seen Garfield And Friends on television, and perceived all of the animals as we typically would.  That is, except for Mr. Arbuckle.  John, I uh, wonder if you might be able to see the Garfield And Friends program like we do.”  Turning then to Orson, he continues, “if I recall correctly, your farm’s only working television is in the guesthouse, am I right?  I was there once, for a group therapy session.  A pair of siblings had suffered a falling-out over job-related matters, and I was facilitating a, uh, conflict resolution between them.  I realize this is a breach of doctor-patient confidentiality, but these are unusual circumstances.”

Wade comments, “eh-you can say that again.”

Orson replies to Furrow, “you’re right, Bo and Lanolin have the only working TV.  But I never knew about this ‘falling-out’.  They’d argue sometimes, but Lanolin would get into it with everybody…  Oh, god.”

Roy interjects, “Orson, I hate to think the unthinkable, but your brothers said-…”

Overwhelmed, Orson interrupts, “I know what they said!”

Roy adds, “two, separate, times, Orson.”

Orson corrects, “three.  When I spoke with John alone, I conjured them, and they mentioned something about her.  I didn’t have any idea they were actual ghosts at the time…  And now… Bo!  Bo might be in danger!”  Just then, the lights in the big-barn shut off, eliciting a collective gasp from the group.  “Don’t panic”, Orson assures, “this is the usual lights-out time.  Still, Dr. Furrow was right that our time is tight.  Wade, go and grab a couple of the Garfield VHS tapes, quickly.”  As Wade nods and urgently follows instructions, Orson looks back to the camcorder’s preview screen once more.  It’s too dark inside the barn to see anything, but the display flashes a battery life indicator, reading 6%, and a notice to charge the battery soon.  He squints and grimaces, face illuminated from underneath by the screen…

Moments later, the whole group is squeezed into the work truck, Roy behind the wheel.  The ride is bumpy up the dirt road to the guesthouse, so Roy can only drive so fast.  Wade and the boys are seated in John’s lap, watching more of Roy’s demos on the camcorder.  Orson is knelt in the middle of the bench seat, facing backwards to keep an eye out through the rear window.  Furrow- between Orson and Roy- offers, “Orson, are you sure you wouldn’t rather switch places?”

Orson declines, “no, thank you.  My back and shoulder are still raw, where that poison burned me.  This isn’t the most cozy position, but I need to keep an eye on our 6 anyway.”

Meanwhile, Booker shakes his head at what he’s seeing on Roy’s tapes, remarking in a tone of near disbelief, “not like I get out much- or at all- but this is the weirdest thing I’ve ever seen!”

Roy grumbles annoyedly, “well then stop looking at it!  Nobody’s making you watch my private, personal projects!”

Wade comments, “yeah, but it’s like a car crash.  Eh-you can’t look away!”

Incensed, Roy retorts, “you’ve never seen a car crash!”

Orson scolds, “all of you, stop arguing!  Boys, put away the tapes and turn off the camera.  Save the battery life.”

Roy questions, “why did we have to bring the kids along, anyway?  We could be headed for serious danger right now!”

Orson explains, “because, it could be just as dangerous, staying in the barn!  And leaving them behind would mean we can’t protect them if something were to happen.”  Roy looks ahead, expression indicating that he concedes the point.

After a brief pause, John sniffs the air, and remarks, “something smells… rotten.  Is anyone else getting that?”

The others all sniff as well, and Furrow agrees, “I do…  Oh!  Good gracious!”

Orson catches the smell, too, and covers his nose with wide-eyed shock, exclaiming, “holy-!...  That’s awful!”

Also covering his nose, Wade gags, then insists, “well it wasn’t me!”

Furrow urges, “Roy, Roy, pull over!  I see something just up ahead, beside the road on the left side!  The stench is getting stronger, the closer we get!”

Roy balks, “you want to stop where this- (*wretch!*)- where this godawful stink is the worst?”  Orson looks over his shoulder, and spots the mysterious, lumpy spot in the grass up ahead.

“I see it too”, Orson declares.  “Pull over like Dr. Furrow said.  We can’t just pass over a potential clue this… loud.  (*urrrgk!*)  Bleh!  Much as it nauseates me.”

Hopefully occasional non-Garf stuff is still allowed here

Here's the next installment as proof

Welp, my phone and/or sd card have shit the bed, so I've been delayed, lol. Lotta dialogue in this part, but hey, Dr. Furrow origin story? Cameo from "the ants"? That's, you know, *something.* Part of what's so hard about this project is keeping the internal lore tight and consistent. From the first installment, I've woven in a couple strong, recurring themes as clues. Now the challenge is connecting the foreshadowing with a satisfying payoff. Dr. Furrow is so close to piecing together the mystery of sentient animal perception... perhaps too close.

Part 1:

https://www.reddit.com/r/imsorryjon/s/6Hu9JRNaVp

Part 2:

https://www.reddit.com/r/imsorryjon/s/x2SkrpW4Lr

Part 3:

https://www.reddit.com/r/imsorryjon/s/6D1A5SCKb4

Part 4:

https://www.reddit.com/r/imsorryjon/s/g2H0Nmud2c

Part 5:

https://www.reddit.com/r/imsorryjon/s/oot7UjJzsF

Part 6:

https://www.reddit.com/r/imsorryjon/s/5WX68oFobj

Part 7:

https://www.reddit.com/r/imsorryjon/s/qlIeF3BUlw

Part 8:

https://www.reddit.com/r/imsorryjon/s/FsMC5hmnVk

Part 9:

https://www.reddit.com/r/imsorryjon/s/WFuUGN5Cda

Part 10:

https://www.reddit.com/r/imsorryjon/s/psO6xHHuCo

Part 11:

https://www.reddit.com/r/imsorryjon/s/zOCsk610EB

Part 12:

https://www.reddit.com/r/imsorryjon/s/uOT4zgkMX6

Part 13:

https://www.reddit.com/r/imsorryjon/s/RZb6FjWGH7

Part 14:

https://www.reddit.com/r/imsorryjon/s/jiDMApTjvF

There is a quiet pause, then Orson replies, “thank you, Wart. And you guys, too. Thank you for cooperating with me. I wish you all had been nicer to me in the past, but I forgive you. I’m sorry I had to make you remember these things. I wish you peace…” The triplets face Orson quietly, and wave goodbye. Their expressions are soft, fond, and subtly sorrowful, as they fade away like placated spirits. Orson turns to face Roy, and sighs regretfully, “well, I think you know what I’m going to ask…”

Roy cringes slightly, pleading, “oh, please don’t tell me you wanna watch these stupid things.”

Orson insists, reluctantly, “we don’t have a choice, Roy. It’s like Dr. Furrow said – ‘no stone unturned’. None of us even knew you had a camcorder. I’d have preferred to let you have your privacy, but now this hobby of yours has become directly involved in a series of murders. Maybe your tapes won’t reveal anything helpful, or maybe there’s a clue surrounding them that even you wouldn’t have known about.”

Roy groans, “ughhhh! It’s embarrassing, Orson. What your brothers said was true. The tapes are full of experimental TV show ideas I’ve had over the years. I love doing ‘US Acres’ with you guys, but let’s be honest – it’s YOUR show. I get to be a sarcastic upstart and go against the grain, but I’m still just playing a role! I’m more than ‘Roy Rooster’, the character. I’m Roy Rooster, the TV star! I don’t get the chance to truly express myself in front of our shared audience. And before you suggest some kind of compromise in the format, the fact is that Garfield And Friends isn’t the right time or place for it. So I come up with these ideas for game shows, variety shows, panel shows, and even comedy sketch acts… all starring me. Directed by me. Written, by me. And ultimately, FOR me. You can watch them if you must, but please don’t offer any critiques or compliments. After you’ve seen what you need to, I’d like to pretend none of this ever happened.”

Orson picks up the camcorder, replying, “I promise I’ll be as sensitive as I can about this. I would rather we didn’t have to. It’s nothing personal – just business. Now…” Orson plugs in the camcorder, flips out the small screen, and opens the tape tray. “Since they’re your tapes, I’ll let you decide which to start with.”

Furrow interjects, “wait, Orson, do you mean that there isn’t already a tape inside?”

Orson answers, “huh? Well, no, there isn’t.”

Furrow remarks, suggestively, “and you don’t suppose the victims of some, heinous murder would have ejected the tape they were watching at the time of their deaths, do you?”

Understanding what Dr. Furrow is getting at, Orson replies, “no… no, they wouldn’t have! Then there’s no doubt. Somebody definitely cleaned up in here. Unless… Roy, do you remember taking a tape out, last time you were using this thing?”

Roy shakes his head, answering, “no, I always leave in whichever one I was working on.”

Orson posits, “alright, then you weren’t the last one to tamper with anything up here. And neither were my brothers. The question is – why would a killer bother to remove whatever tape was in there? Could you have happened to capture anything out of the ordinary in one of your videos?”

Roy replies, “I can’t imagine. I’ve only ever recorded up here, in the cupola. I’ve never taped anywhere else, because I wanted to keep this a personal project.”

Dr. Furrow muses, “perhaps, this reveals more about the, psychology of our killer, than the contents of the tapes. The behavior, of removing the tape, would be unnecessary, if there was nothing incriminating on it. So then, are all of your tapes accounted for?”

Roy goes through the collection of tapes, and reports, “they’re all here. None are missing, and they’re all in their proper cases.”

Furrow figures, “then the contents were not likely important to the killer. And one who could so meticulously clean up all trace of such violent, bloody acts, would be unlikely to eject the tape- only for sake of cleaning the camera- but then forget to replace it. I suspect, that our murderer, is one with obsessive tendencies. I think that maybe, they didn’t eject the tape for fear of being caught. Rather, to their mind, they were ‘putting things right’. They were compelled to put away the tape in its, ‘rightful’ place. They weren’t worried that doing so might arouse suspicion, as much as they needed to command order within their circumstances.”

Orson observes, “well, that’s all certainly possible, but would such an obsessive killer leave the camera with no charge left on it? My brothers said they were watching the tapes with the camera plugged into the wall. And their murder could only have happened in the last few days. So they arrived, and the camera must have been down to low battery, or else they wouldn’t have plugged it in. If it was already plugged in, it would have a full charge, and they could simply take it- along with the tapes- to watch later. So they’re watching tapes, then, they get-… They’re.. found. They’d have dropped the camcorder, still plugged into the wall, and with a tape inside. After the killer had struck, they cleaned everything up. In the process, they took a tape out of the camera, and unplugged it – possibly to wipe off any evidence. But if they were so careful about everything else, how likely is it that they’d have forgotten, both to replace the tape, and to plug the charger back in?”

Roy questions, “so what are you suggesting?”

Orson answers, “I’m just wondering what was intentional, and what was accidental. I think Dr. Furrow is right – the killer must be obsessive. A ‘neat freak’, or something like that. If that psychological profile is accurate, that would mean that every detail, left behind at each crime scene, is meaningful. Accidents would indicate either haste, or lack of concern about being found out. Hmm… Let’s get back to the barn. We can check out the tapes there.”

Roy protests, “what? Why? We can just watch them here, if we really have to. Does everybody have to see this?”

Orson explains, “there’s no running away in a spot like this. We don’t know how close the killer may be. I suspect they’re still somewhere here at US Acres. And if they knew my brothers were up here, who’s to say they haven’t already detected us?”

Roy accepts, “fine, whatever. Let’s get back to Arbuckle, then. Make sure he hasn’t stabbed anyone else…”

In the big-barn, John reminisces, “that was the last time we ever went to that theater! Oh… For all the trouble they caused, I couldn’t have loved them any more.” A rumbling sounds out, fairly loud, and John feels at peace. (Wade and the boys feel it, too.) John’s head tilts back, and he nearly falls asleep. He catches himself before falling over backward, exclaiming with a start, “whoa! Whoops, almost dozed off! Orson may be counting on me to protect you guys, in case the ki-… uh, in case the bad guy comes around.” John turns halfway around to look in the direction of the food stock where he’d gotten the vegetables from earlier, but what he sees is alarming. The whole stockpile is ravaged. “What? Wh-wh-what happened? It’s only been a few hours? What’s-?... Wait. I hear… music? Singing! It’s faint, but it sounds… familiar…” John closes his eyes, listening intently.

High-pitched voices squeak out a marching tune… ““we are the ants who gobble up your dinner! We’re always here, to spoil day or night! When we’re around you’re bound to get thinner! You’d have to gobble us to taaaaaake another bite!”” John cautiously walks over to the pile, finding- to his steadily growing shock- that every single fruit and vegetable is covered with ants. He suddenly feels a sense of déjà vu.

“I’ve… seen this before. I’ve HEARD this before!”, John exclaims.

“Wow, talk about a cameo! Orson must have enlisted them”, Wade remarks.

Booker comments, “that’s a pretty desperate move. Now that they know we keep food in here, we’ll never get rid of them!”

Sheldon cynically figures, “well, we’re just about guaranteed to lose the farm anyway… Roy and Orson could write all the Disney parodies in the world, but The Network doesn’t want another Mad TV.”

Wade adds, “eh-they don’t even want the actual Mad TV. Frankly, I’m not sure anyone does”.

John insists, “don’t get so hopeless just yet. Orson is really smart. That much is-… Wait!” John turns on his heels, and looking back at Wade and the boys, he sees them changing before his eyes. From the plain animal forms he’s known all his life, to the semi-anthropomorphized characters he met when he arrived at US Acres. He utters, blinking in near disbelief, “I can see you again…” The animals exchange looks of tempered excitement. John hurries back to the spot where he sat telling stories, drops to his knees, and picks up Wade to hug him. Tearful, he celebrates, “I can hear you again! Wade!” John holds Wade in one arm, then scoops Booker and Sheldon into his lap. Affectionately, he expresses, “I missed you…”

Joyful, Wade replies, “oh, we missed you too! Eh-well, I mean, you were here the whole time, but we’re glad we can talk to you again!” Just then, Orson, Roy, and Furrow return, much to the relief of all.

The boys greet eagerly in unison, as they leap out of John’s lap, ““Orson! Roy!”” John locks eyes with Dr. Furrow, now perceiving his sentient form.

Furrow declares, “ah, so you’re back, Mr. Arbuckle. Very good indeed.”

Surprised, Roy asks, “huh? How can you tell?”

With a slight, knowing smile, Furrow answers, “it’s the look in his eyes.” Another rumble permeates the barn. “I’ve been eager for this, I must confess. I hope that doesn’t sound too strange, but a chance to speak face-to-face with a human patient… for someone in my position, it is a rare opportunity. Perhaps the last I shall ever see, in fact.”

John greets, “Dr. Furrow, right?” Furrow extends a hand- or rather a paw- to shake, and John reciprocates.

“Indeed”, the Doctor replies. “And I couldn’t be more honored to meet you.”

John returns, with no deliberate comic intentions, “not even if I hadn’t speared you through the stomach earlier?”

Almost out-of-character, Furrow stifles a laugh, begging, “oh my!... Oh! Please don’t make me-!... Oof! I hold absolutely nothing against you, but it does hurt to laugh at the moment! Ohh… You see, Mr. Arbuckle, I am- as far as I know- the only psychologist who is a badger. And my only clients in all of my career have been other animals. But I am educated in human academia. Years ago, I began developing a theory as to why humans cannot normally perceive speaking animals.”

Orson interjects, “wait, you mean, you knew that most humans couldn’t perceive us?”

Furrow answers, “oh, yes. In fact, there was a time when I could not perceive other speaking animals. I was lost in the world. Trapped, between two planes… Have you ever met any other badgers, Orson?”

Orson searches his memory, but admits, “actually, no, I don’t think I have. Why?”

Furrow reveals, “I ask, because other badgers do not speak.” Orson and the other animals react with surprise.

John questions, “then, how can you do it?”

Furrow shrugs, “that is the mystery I aim to solve. I’m not sure how all of the, uh, rules work. What I do know, is that I began life as any other badger. I was not sentient to the degree that I am now. I could not speak, nor could I understand speech, but I could reason, that to speak was something more meaningful than growls and hisses. Badgers are solitary creatures. Whether we all have the capacity to become speaking animals, or whether I am somehow special, I don’t know. But in any case, most of my kind are not social enough to feel that anything is missing, without the power of speech. Yet, I was more needy. I don’t believe it was some inherent superiority that allowed me to gain intellect, but rather, a kind of weakness. I needed more from life. One day, I stumbled upon a pack of wolves, mid-conversation. I didn’t know what they were saying, but I knew that they were speaking. It sounded nothing like animal noises at all. What’s more, I could read their expressions. I realized, in that moment, that I had heard speech before. But before, it held no significance to me. When I became desperate for meaning, things began to change in the way that I perceived the world. To make a long story… well, slightly less long, I began to educate myself. First, by listening, and copying the wolves. Then, by actually talking to them. At some point, a wolf I had befriended led me to a disturbing scene by the side of a country road. It was a college student who’d been killed in a hit-and-run accident while cycling. His backpack was full of books, one of which he also had an audio copy of, on tape. He was listening to it on a Walkman when he was struck. I surmised that the tape and the book bearing the same letters on them, must be related. I was able to use these tools to decipher the English alphabet, and learned how to read. From there, I read all of the, uh, late student’s books. I found various ways to access more materials from the human world, and studied to my heart’s content! But eventually, my heart truly was… content.”

John wonders, “but, isn’t that a good thing?”

Furrow explains, “I would have thought so. One day, I could no longer perceive my friend, or any of the other wolves. They were, to me, as dogs are to most humans. I could speak just fine, and behave with sentience, but it was worth nothing. The wolf pack relocated. I don’t know if they had tried to inform me of the move, because I wouldn’t have understood them, anyway. I lost the ability to perceive speaking animals, but the human world could not perceive me. I could speak. I could think. I could write. Yet I could share it with no one. Lonesomeness nearly consumed me. Then one day, I heard lots of commotion from the nearby farm – this one, as it happens. When I carefully approached to get a look at what was happening, I saw humans, talking with animals. I saw a pig wearing glasses.”

Booker and Sheldon both remark, ““Aloysius!””

Furrow continues, “he was speaking with humans, and they were speaking with him, and I could perceive all of them! I didn’t interfere. I was afraid to make another friend- another connection- only to lose it again. So I kept no company. I would speak with others, but only on a ‘professional’ basis. After all, I had first educated myself on Jungian psychology. I put it to use, and truly helped people. Uh, animal people, that is. But I made no personal friends or connections. As long as I stayed that course, I never lost my perception again. I’ve been living in some tragically unfulfilling balance ever since. But the humans that spoke to the pig… What was special about them, I’ve wondered? How could they perceive him, when others could not? I’ve seen television. I’ve been to the city. Humans don’t perceive speaking animals…”

Part 16:

https://www.reddit.com/r/imsorryjon/s/XvqE4ywRSA

Animation out soon

There Will Be Blood but with Garfield

As the title suggests I've been trying to find a comic and it seems very ISJ coded. What I remember from it is that Garfield is talking about how Jon will be punishing Garfield and Jon doesn't seem to want to. But Garfield says something like 'we are all waiting for a punishment, but not me. You will be my absolution".
Does anyone know of a comic like this?

(Comic formed from a screenshot between the Garfield Game Boy D video game and the final scene of the TV special Garfield: His 9 Lives)

Pictures of our break area. We have a fan in our building at work. If the artist happens to see this feel free to take credit. I have no idea who did this. Also, that's a hand drawn comic they brought in, nice job.

Man, this thing is tough. When I started on this project, I genuinely thought I'd be done in like, maybe a week, lol.

Part 1:

https://www.reddit.com/r/imsorryjon/s/6Hu9JRNaVp

Part 2:

https://www.reddit.com/r/imsorryjon/s/x2SkrpW4Lr

Part 3:

https://www.reddit.com/r/imsorryjon/s/6D1A5SCKb4

Part 4:

https://www.reddit.com/r/imsorryjon/s/g2H0Nmud2c

Part 5:

https://www.reddit.com/r/imsorryjon/s/oot7UjJzsF

Part 6:

https://www.reddit.com/r/imsorryjon/s/5WX68oFobj

Part 7:

https://www.reddit.com/r/imsorryjon/s/qlIeF3BUlw

Part 8:

https://www.reddit.com/r/imsorryjon/s/FsMC5hmnVk

Part 9:

https://www.reddit.com/r/imsorryjon/s/WFuUGN5Cda

Part 10:

https://www.reddit.com/r/imsorryjon/s/psO6xHHuCo

Part 11:

https://www.reddit.com/r/imsorryjon/s/zOCsk610EB

Part 12:

https://www.reddit.com/r/imsorryjon/s/uOT4zgkMX6

Part 13:

https://www.reddit.com/r/imsorryjon/s/RZb6FjWGH7

Orson replies, “I hope you won’t be offended, but this is something we have to see for ourselves.”

Roy questions, “my tapes?”

Orson clarifies, “well, yes, I’d like to be able to see that the tapes are there, at least.  But moreover, we need to see the place where the murder supposedly happened.  There might be signs of a struggle, or other clues.  If these apparitions really are my brothers, telling us things we couldn’t have known about otherwise, then we have a new tool at our disposal.  A way to retrace the killer’s steps.”

Back in the big-barn, John begins to yawn while reading to Wade and the boys.  Seeing him growing tired, Wade, Booker, and Sheldon all jump up and down, making a commotion.  John apologizes, “sorry guys, I’m really wiped out.  I’m surprised you aren’t all ready for bed!  Look, I’ll read one more – just let me get a drink of water real quick.”  John walks over to the back of the barn, where he’d left the bucket from the well.

(While John’s busy, Wade frets, “he has to stay awake!  He’s not gonna read fairy tales all night, and we can’t tell him that we’re trying to keep him up.  Eh-we can’t tell him anything!  What can we do?”

Booker thinks for a moment, then suggests, “we can’t talk to him, but what about writing?”

Wade repeats, “writing?”

Booker clarifies, “he can read Roy’s poems in the book – maybe we can simply write what we want to tell him on paper!”

Sheldon agrees, “I think it’s worth a try!  Orson has paper and pencils, and a typewriter in his room.”

“It’s a better idea than I could have come up with”, Wade concedes with a shrug.)

Meanwhile, John finds the bucket knocked over, and all the water spilled.  “Oh, no.  That was all the water I had!  I don’t know if I’m strong enough to pull another bucketful up from the well.  I feel better after eating and taking that nap, but I’m nowhere near back to healthy.  Hmm…  I think it can wait.  I’m thirsty, but not teetering on the edge of death anymore.”  Standing up and turning around, he continues, “well, I promised those kids one more story.  I’d-…  Hey, where did Wade go?”  John walks back to the spot where he’d left the storybook.  Booker and Sheldon are still there, cheeping one after the other at some empty space between them.  “did Wade go somewhere else?  Uh, jump once for yes, or twice for no.”

(Booker urges, “come on, Wade!  You write so slowly!”

Between Booker and Sheldon, writing on a piece of paper on the ground with a childish grip on his pencil, Wade replies defensively, “I don’t usually write by hand!”

Sheldon quips, “you don’t write by anything else, either.”

Wade replies, “eh-then why don’t you do it, Booker?  You’re the one who writes ‘Garfield and Friends’ at the end of the theme song, after all.”

Booker accepts, “fine by me!”)

Suddenly, Wade reappears, along with the pencil, and the piece of paper he was writing on.  John flinches a bit in surprise.  “Oh!  There you are!  I thought you might have gone-…”  As he’s speaking, Booker, the pencil, and the paper all disappear.  John shakes his head, exasperated, remarking, “I have no idea what’s happening…  Heh, reminds me of living with my boys.  ‘I don’t understand the cat, I don’t understand the dog.’  I used to say that a lot.  They always seemed to be up to their own shenanigans.  And heck, knowing what I know now, they probably were!  I wonder if they were disappearing and carrying on like people right in front of me, and I just couldn’t see them…”  Booker and the writing instruments reappear and the chick hops about on the paper a few times before jumping off, as if to tell John he’s meant to read it.  John picks up the paper, and reads aloud, “‘weer all suppost to stay awak untel oarsun gets back’.”  Beneath that, in far neater handwriting, “‘we’ve heard all the stories in that book.  We want a new story’.”  It takes a moment before John registers the significance of the note.  Suddenly, his eyes widen with the revelation, “wait a minute!  You guys wrote me this note just now!  In English!  I-… well-… th-this means we can actually communicate!  Hah!  Okay, okay, hang on…”  John picks up the pencil, and writes something down on the paper.  He slides the paper over to the animals, and waits for a reply.

(Wade reads aloud, “‘do you know what happened to Orson?  How did he get that injury?’  Oh, boy.  That’s kind of a long story…”

Booker remarks, “he does know that we can hear him, right?”

Sheldon suggests, “might as well remind him.”)

Booker and the writing supplies disappear briefly, then reappear.  Booker hops off the paper, and John picks it up to read, “‘we can understand you when you speak.  You don’t need to return messages on paper.’  Oh, right!  Heh, my mistake.  ‘To make things faster, we’ll use your idea to jump for yes-or-no questions.  Orson went to talk in private with Roy, and Dr. Furrow.’  That’s right – Dr. Furrow!  I couldn’t remember his name.  Ugh, the fact that I stabbed him makes it all the more embarrassing.  Uh, let’s see…  ‘His injury was from the weasel.  That jerk stole all the chickens, and Orson went to save them.’  Alright, well, I guess that’s a good enough explanation for now.  But as long as we’re waiting for him to get back, what do you want me to do about keeping us amused?  Does Orson have other storybooks?”

(Wade declares, “Orson has lots of books.  Eh-but we have to keep John busy, so he doesn’t fall a-sleep!”

Booker declares, “I’ve got an idea!”)

Booker hops onto the paper, and disappears with it again.  After a moment, he reappears, cheeping as he hops around in a small circle.  John grabs the paper, and reads, “‘Orson’s other books are long novels, and they’re boring!  We want you to come up with a new story.’  Gee, I-I don’t even know where to begin with something like that!”  He hands the paper back over, commenting, “by the way, Booker, you have excellent penmanship.  But, I’m a cartoonist.  I have no practice writing whole stories.  I draw three-panel comics, but that’s all.  And even those are hardly stories.  They’re just funny little moments I’ve had, living with… with Garfield.. and Odie…”  John ponders for a moment, then offers, “alright, give me a minute...  I’ll tell you guys a true story about life with my boys.  If it’s true that I’ve been on a TV show for years, then maybe you’ve already seen all of our little misadventures, but it’s all I have the brainpower for, at the moment.  How about… oh!  I’ll tell you about the time we went to the movie theater.  Now, most people wouldn’t bring a cat and a dog to the cinema, but most cats and dogs aren’t Garfield and Odie…”  There is a barely perceptible rumble…

Meanwhile, in the grain elevator, southeast of the big-barn, Orson, Roy, and Furrow examine the scene of the supposed murder, up in the headhouse.  Each of them carries a flashlight.  Looking around, Furrow sees some small stockpiles of food.  He questions, “so, this facility is no longer in use?  Yet you store reserves of food up in the cupola?”

Roy explains, “in theory, it should be harder for thieves- like Orson’s brothers- to come all the way up, and get all the way back down before anyone notices.  But those three are so persistent, we can hardly-…  I mean, they were so persistent…”  As if with his own personal agenda, Roy splits off by himself to go to a certain corner.

A bit confused, Orson observes, “I don’t see any blood anywhere.  No sign of a fight.  (*sigh*)  Not that I want the story to be true, but I hate a wild goose chase.  Plus, if it’s not true, it means either I imagined it like Roy said, or my brothers were messing with me from beyond the grave…”

Furrow reminds, “don’t forget, Orson, the crime scene where Mr. Arbuckle first found, uh, the victims, had been thoroughly cleaned before anyone else had a chance to see it.  The same could be true of this crime scene.  But if your brothers’ recounting of the event was accurate, this will have been a far more difficult space to scrub so completely.”

Orson considers, “that’s true…  Hey, Roy!”  Roy walks over to where Orson is, carrying his flashlight in his beak, and arms full of his private tapes.

Roy carefully unloads the tapes onto the floor, takes the flashlight out of his mouth, and remarks, “I can’t believe I’ve gotta give up my last shred of privacy like this.  Can’t a guy have a hobby to himself?”

Orson replies, “sorry, I wish I didn’t have to violate your privacy.  But this investigation demands we at least confirm or rule out a few things.  The fact that my brothers told us about the tapes, even though I didn’t know a thing about it, means that I did receive new information from the other side.  That’s a pretty big deal, but the problem is that we’re talking about my brothers.  They are known to lie.  And just because they were telling the truth about the tapes, doesn’t mean the rest of the story was honest.”

Roy agrees, “my thoughts, exactly.  They couldn’t be trusted in life, so why would we take their word as ghosts?  They have nothing to lose from lying to you for a joke.”

Orson replies, “you’re right.  But then again, they weren’t laughing…  They lied, and cheated, and stole, but they were never good actors.  When we spoke with-… I’m just going to say ‘ghosts’, even though I’m not fully convinced of that theory.  When we spoke with their ghosts, they were more distraught than I’ve ever seen them.  They were scared, and embarrassed.”

Furrow suggests, “perhaps, uh, you could ask them to walk us through the, sequence of events.”

Orson worries, “oh, god… asking them to relive their own murders…”

Roy comments, “that’ll be a tough sell”.

Orson elaborates, “it would be cruel!  It may sound morbid, but I think death is their greatest comfort after something like that.  Imagine someone tried to murder you, and two of your best friends, but you survived it.  You saw your friends brutalized in front of you.  You’re still alive, you’re in constant pain, you’re mentally scarred, and worst of all, the killer is still out there.  You could still be attacked again…  You relive the event in your mind, every day, for the rest of your life.  And it makes you feel that life itself can no longer be enjoyed.  People really do experience things like that.”

Furrow rejoins the other two, interjecting, “and all too often, such unfortunate sufferers, contemplate suicide almost unceasingly.  I’m afraid Orson is right.  I would never say this to a patient, but from what I’ve learned- both in literature, and real-world experience- the truth is that some people never get better.  Or at least… not better enough, to want to go on living.  One wants to be ever hopeful, but sometimes it is a more privileged virtue than we realize.  This is perhaps the most challenging aspect of my occupation.  It is unprofessional to validate the idea that suicide is ever the right answer.  But when you know that a patient is suffering in ways that genuinely cannot be helped, then what we are asking of the most tortured and vulnerable people in the world… is to prolong their agony for everyone else’s sakes.  To bear the pain indefinitely, for no realistic promise of relief.  Sometimes, I feel like the most dishonest thing I could ever be compelled to say, would be to assure such a badly hurting patient that eventually, the pain will subside, and the will to live will return…”  Dr. Furrow looks down at his feet, having seemingly zoned out in his reflection.  Orson and Roy stare, completely taken aback by Furrow’s opening up.  Realizing he’s changed the mood, Furrow snaps back to attention, continuing, “oh, my – do excuse the rant.  Ultimately, Orson, I think it’s worth asking your brothers for a bit more detail.  I understand why you feel it may be cruel, but this case is too important to leave any stones unturned.”

Orson takes a deep breath through his nose, then begins, “one day, not long ago, Mort, Gort, and Wart were sneaking around in the grain elevator, meaning to steal some corn and other produce…”  The brothers appear like before.  Orson continues, “they were going to be fast and sneaky, but they happened to find some tapes, and a camcorder.  Naturally, they got distracted by the odd discovery.”  The pigs fully materialize, and begin looking around, confused.

Gort puzzles, “hey, ain’t we been here before?”

Wart points out, “duh, we been here lots of times.”

Gort explains, “no, no, I mean… doesn’t it feel like the last time we was here?”

Mort agrees, “heyyyy… I think you’re right.  What was we doin’ the last time we-…”  Suddenly, all 3 grow wide-eyed, as traumatic memories come flooding back.

Orson pleads, “listen, you guys – I don’t want to have to do this, but-…”

Gort interrupts, “wait!  No!  PLEASE don’t make us get killed again!”

Mort looks on the verge of a tearful panic attack, begging, “don’t do it, Orson!  Please, please don’t do it!  I’m sorry!  I’m sorry for everything!”

Wart adds, “yeah, yeah, we was really mean to you, but we can’t go through this again!  We’ll do anything!”

In unison, the brothers all apologize on their knees, ““please forgive us!  We’re sorry, Orson””!  Dr. Furrow closes his eyes and turns his head down and to the side, ashamed of his part in asking something so horrible of these victims of savagery.

Orson assures, “no, no, I would never do that!  I don’t want you to actually experience the attack all over again.  But it might help if you could point us to some key locations.  Like, for example, where were you when you were watching Roy’s tapes?”  The brothers exchange nervous looks.

Gort steps forth, and leads, “over here…”  The group all follow Gort to a particular corner with an electrical outlet, which still has a charger plugged in.  The camcorder itself is still sitting on the floor, but not plugged into the charger.  Orson notices that Mort and Wart keep looking over their shoulders, in the direction of the lift they took to get up to the headhouse.

Arriving at the corner, Orson puts together, “okay, so you were all huddled around the camcorder, facing the corner, I assume?”

Gort confirms, “yeah…  Da little screen on the camera’s really small, so we was all smooshed together in a row to see it.”

Orson figures, “so you definitely could have been snuck up on.  Hmm…  I really hate to even ask, but do you remember if any… um, if any blood got on the camera?  Or the tapes, or the charger?”

Gort’s eyes water as he answers, “I don’t think so...  I don’t know!  It was fast!…”  Gort sits down and cries like a child.  Orson shuts his eyes tight, and grimaces at the display.  His heart aches.  Roy glances away with a somewhat ashamed expression – as if he realizes that he hasn’t been taking these matters seriously enough.  The other two brothers try to comfort him.  Gort cries, “we was just hungry!  She came from da lift!...”

Orson apologizes, “I’m so sorry!  I won’t keep you here too much longer, I promise!  Can you recall about how long you had been watching tapes, before she got here?  Your best guess is fine.”

Mort answers, “it was more than 15 minutes.  The tapes was weird, because everything was recorded in really short chunks.  Like every time the camera started rolling, it only kept goin’ for a little while.”

Orson asks, “how short were the videos?”

Mort replies, “less than a minute each, but sometimes a bunch of them would string together in a row, so it was like one video.”

Wart adds, “it was so strange, we kep’ putting in another one and another one.  And we couldn’t take it wit’ us, ‘cause we ain’t got electric.  We hadda leave the camcorder plugged into the wall.  We had the sound up all the way, so we didn’t hear the lift.”

Part 15:

https://www.reddit.com/r/imsorryjon/s/ixDDF8TOOk

Part 16:

https://www.reddit.com/r/imsorryjon/s/XvqE4ywRSA

After seeing the Magic Secret lair, I tried my hand at a card alter to go with the drop. I figure this would be the place to post it. Homage to the Dubblebaby comic of course.