Sitting in a Friday night program at school in a great time to draw and not listen to the speaker. I had wonderous drawing skillz that night and successfully drew little caricature heads and faces of my friends. I thought Chase would like to see my work since he was at the other end of the row from me, so I handed it down for him. I lean back and stretch, feeling good about my work. I then turn to see Chase drawing on my wonderful artwork with a Sharpie! With much anger rising I quietly but persistently told him to hand it back. I look at my trashed art, feeling a pang of sadness.

After the program let out we decided to head to the Mill, a coffee shop in downtown. Everyone ordered something while I found a table in a corner. Chase plunked down his clipboard and told me to draw something, anything. Somehow I started drawing death and bodily harm. The ideas kept coming, and with the help and cheers of my tablemates, we came up with what you see above.

Many forms of death. Oh yes. And I hope you can read down in the right bottom corner > Chase says "...but I was high on Sharpies" as if to give reason for his drawing over my stuff. And my spelling skillz that night weren't so good. Pardon the "gonas" > should be "gonads."

Anyway! There it is. Much too much description. Enjoy
[[would this be mature content?]]