Either you guys really like HIKYM or you think HIKYM stands for an urgent life-saving medical procedure.

What I figured would trickle in over a period of 30 days came in, like, one and a half. So, okay, cut it out. No more. In fact, I’m gonna edit that button out and make you stop. You’ve done enough and I thank you for it.

Since you guys kicked so much ass, we’ll do two extras. I’ll put together a story guide outline kinda thing so it’s easier to keep track of what’s going on with all the flashbacks and forwards and then re-flashbacks but slightly forward to the original flashback. Secretly this is something I should have done ages ago as a responsible writer, but screw that, I’ll make it seem like it’s a gift to repay your genuine generosity. Don’t tell anyone! Meanwhile, Matt will work up some kinda cool art! Not sure if he’s decided if it’ll be HIKYM or 8-bit themed yet.

But I suppose the real reward is to hit you guys with uninterrupted kung fu action. So, back to work!

Meanwhile, the new Atomic Robo series starts in February. I haven’t seen it up for pre-order yet, except over here at Forbidden Planet. I’m a little worried though because the title is wrong. I mean, hell yeah, Atomic Robo and the Revenge of the Vampire Dimension is a great title, but 1) Revenge Vampire Dimension ain’t quite that and 2) the title of this series is supposed to be Atomic Robo and Other Strangeness because it’s four one-shots filled with weird stuff. Among them, the rest of this story. So, I dunno. Gonna have to look into that!

I don’t want to do this, but I don’t see a way around it either.

When How I Killed Your Master started, John and I figured we would split the costs 50/50. That hasn’t quite worked out. John came across a fantastic opportunity with another comic project he was shopping around and he’s got to focus on getting that done because there’s contracts and schedules and all that jazz. It should go without saying, but I’ll say it anyway, I completely support that decision. Hell, I helped him lock down the artist for it. And I’ll help him get the word out when it’s done ’cause it’s pretty damned cool.

But in the meantime I’m paying for 100% of HIKYM‘s production. This would be manageable were it not for the costs associated with moving across country! Which I am! Or, rather, up it. Anyway, the move has thrown a Southern Monkey Style wrench into the budget.

If you enjoy How I Killed Your Master, please show your support by pitching in a couple bucks so we can keep it going without any more hiccups.

DONATION LINK REMOVED BECAUSE HOLY SHIT YOU GUYS ARE NUTS

If we reach a monthly goal of $500, we’ll release some bonus material or a wallpaper like this one or something for the whole world to enjoy. Or at least that subsection of the world which visits nuklearpower.com. Screw those other jerks. Do they even use deodorant? I don’t think so either.

Here’s this week’s episode of Nerdy Show. Do yourself a favor and check out the links and not the behind the scenes pictures. We’re as ugly on the outside as we are on the inside.

In other news, Darkplace is so good it makes me angry.

1. One inch of one of my shoelaces. Specifically, the very middle of one of the loops. This is remarkable because they were the last pair of shoes in the house to be untouched by Charlie’s shoestring obsessions because they’re kept in the closet…which he opened while I slept. Do not leave your shoes in my home. They are not safe here!

I discovered something this weekend. Let me share it with you.

Do not buy Torchlight. It will consume you. I mean it. The person you used to be will be dead. It will be crushed, ground up, and torn apart by the gnashing teeth of Torchlight. Your mashed remains will undergo alchemical transformation in the great belly of Torchlight. All that was real and true and alive about you; the dauntless essence of your human spirit; the untouchable center of your being that knows love and joy and hope, all of that which once made a full if slightly ugly human will be destroyed. It will be transformed into a toxic sludge that fuels Torchlight’s hideous eternal unlife. And when it’s drawn out the final ounces of vitality from the pulp of your being, it will leave your remains — unrecognizable, desiccated — in a ditch filled with the mangled lifeless wretches of those who came before you.

And you will lie there. Not quite dead but not quite alive. A mockery. The world will grow dim as you’re slowly buried in the bodies of others. You will reach out to the machine, the monster that did this to you, and in a voice like two gravestones scraping together you will say, “More Torchlight.”