I love how Chelsea just straight-up drops Millie as soon as they reach the bottom of the stairs, casual as, as both a means of unburdening herself and providing a non-verbal reply to Alain’s “Dad brand®” jocosity.
Also, OW!

Trivia time!
I took the photo featured on the wall in panel two waaay back in the winter of 2005. I was lying in bed one afternoon with a certain person who was for many years often a guest in my bed, and it was she who happened to notice that the sunlight coming through the top of the curtains of my bedroom window and shining on the ceiling kinda looked like the eyes of the Nightmare Worm. Pretty spooooky eh?
An curiously me-specific bit of pareidolia really, especially seeing as the Worm and windows have a certain connection that those who have read Agents of the Endtimes will be familiar with.

Some people see Jesus on their burrito*, but me, I had a hideously ancient mind-plaguing monster which lurks behind the veil of hypnagogia manifest itself above my bed.

*Why is it pretty much always a burrito, of all things?? Are their any scholars of theophany out there among the C&M readership who could shed some light on this?
It’s just that I’m kinda fascinated by that particular phenomenon because it’s just so… odd.
I’ve spent most of this week inhabiting the blank-slate clone femmevessel of a certain Canadian lady while leaving in my wake a trail of destruction so epic even a methed-up Texas tornado would find it impressive, purely because I can, and even I think holy burritos are a pretty darn bizarre concept, y’know?