I shall die here. Every last inch of me shall perish. Except one. An inch. It's small and it's fragile and it's the only thing in the world worth having. we must never lose it, or sell it, or give it away. We must never let them take it from us.

This is an IMAGINARY STORY...aren't they all?

Everything you've ever read of mine is first-draft. This is one of the peculiarities of the comics field. By the time you're working on chapter three of your masterwork, chapter one is already in print. You can't go back and suddenly decide to make this character a woman, or have this one fall out of a window.

I should just keep me mouth shut, I just upset people.

I really can't be bothered going to a barber. And shaving every morning, that's nightmarish. I spent my teenage years covered in tiny little bits of toilet paper.

Your pretty empire took so long to build, now, with a snap of history's fingers, down it goes.

Our masters have not heard the people's voice for generations and it is much, much louder than they care to remember.