Choose Your Own Path Comics!

This time we’ve got a special summertime treat for you! We present two unique and charming choose-your-own-path comics from writer/artist Jack Peacock: “Evil King Raymond” and “I Need To Get to Harvard.”

Simply start your adventure at panel number 1, and choose your path from there.

Click on the images to see them in their own windows.

Good luck, adventurer!

evil-king-raymond-choose-your-own-adventure-cartoon choose-your-own-adventure-cartoon-harvard-admissions

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About the Creator

Jack Peacock was born in the depths of a cave in Bolivia. He was orphaned at the age of six after his parents were eaten by an obese sea snail. Following this he was raised by his parents’ ghosts with help from a cabal of blind cave fishes. He left the cave for good shortly after his 14th birthday. Jack will never forget his father’s final advice before he left the cave: “OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo,” he said, in a ghostly fashion.

This inspired Jack to pursue his childhood ambition to become an accounting clerk at a used banana peel warehouse. He endured this job for eight years before realising this wasn’t his childhood ambition. He quit this job to pursue his actual childhood ambition, and now works as a baby Orangutan at a local zoo.

World’s Shortest Creator Interview

Did you ever have an imaginary friend, either in real life or in your imaginary life? What was your friend like, and did it ever call you Harold?

I have a friend James, who is most often heard but not seen. He lives in my hair and shouts obscenities at random strangers. Although they fail to hear it unless I scold him by shouting the obscenity back at him. This action often gives the random stranger the wrong impression, and many become confrontational, which results in a shouting match between myself and James, and often a visit to the hospital.

James often attempts to use his incredibly large nose to suck up the contents from the wallets of random strangers; an action that I often have to prevent by grabbing the stranger’s wallet and holding it close to me, an action that often ends with a visit to the police. He has never actually stolen anything, in that sense his nose is a very low-yield proboscis, but that doesn’t stop the police from charging me occasionally.

James has never referred to me by any name other than ‘Pansy Melon.’ We once had a therapist called Harold, who James always referred to as Humdrum Harold, except on Wednesday when he was always called Poltroon Pete (for reasons James has never revealed).

I have tried many times to rid myself of James, but he always returns. He is an important part of my psyche. He has seen all that I have seen, and thought all that I have thought. We have travelled across oceans together, and engaged in shenanigans the likes of which you wouldn’t believe. He is still an ugly bastard, though, and I want rid of him.

What does it have in its pocketses?

If by ‘it’ you mean ‘James’, then he actually has smaller pocketses in his pockestes, inside of which are still smaller pocketses. When one gets to the 123rd pocket, one will find a small garden gnome eternally feasting on Jose Canseco’s rotting finger, the favored food of miniscule garden gnomes.

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Posted in Featured Fiction