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Friday, April 21, 2000![[Comic for Friday, April 21, 2000]](/comics/gpf20000421k0ysV.png)
Transcription
Wallace: "Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Nay, lint of my navel. Thou art like unto the light, fresh fur on a newborn cub's bottom..."
Dwayne: I don't think I can stand this much longer...
Nick: I wonder how the others are doing...
[[Ki is hanging off a cliff holding only to a root, and Trudy is hanging off her]]
Ki: Uh... Help?
{{Wallace's poem starts out like Shakespeare's Sonnet #18.}}
