I very early caught on that the editor of Cincinnati Post had something specific in mind that he was looking for, and I tried to accommodate him in order to get published. I would turn out rough idea after rough idea, and he would veto eighty percent of them. I pretty much prostituted myself for six months but I couldn't please him, so he sent me packing.

Obviously the great thing about this job is the complete freedom of the schedule. So long as I meet the deadline, they don't care when I work or how I work.

Calvin the zombie searches for food. Horribly, the undead feed upon the living! ...Although, in a pinch, a PBJ will do, if you eat it messily enough.

CALVIN: Our hero regains consciousness at the feet of a sarcastic alien.

I'll bet my autopsy reveals my mouth is too big.

So long, Pop! I'm off to check my tiger trap!

I think nighttime is dark so you can imagine your fears with less distraction.