General Protection Fault: To Thine Own Self...

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[Comic for Wednesday, December 7, 2005]


[[Fred has answered his cell phone at the rehearsal dinner.]]
Fred: Physarum. Go.
Voice: [over his phone] Mr. Physarum! Please don't hang up on me this time! I have to talk to you!

Fred: Oh, it's you. What was it... Socrates? How did you get this number?
Socrates: [over his phone] Please, you must understand! We're alike! I'm just like you! We're two of a kind!

Fred: Look, kid. I'm not looking for anyone to ride on my coattails. I'm killing this number and getting a new one. Call me again, and I'll have the police hunt you down and put you away for stalking.
[[Fred hangs up his phone.]]

[[Charles and Linda Wellington look over at him questioningly.]]
Fred: Just an obsessive fan. He's been calling and e-mailing constantly since the trial. I hate to be so cruel, but one cannot confine such brilliance to only one recipient. I must share it with the world...

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