It was a dark and stormy night. Kind of like Malcom X if he'd been used as a description of the present weather phenomenon and time of day in the opening sentence of a Halloween tale.
Wind lashed the shutters of Carol Vordeman's country mansion, a flash of lightning silhouetted the weather vane against a pale autumn moon. A figure stepped out of the bushes dressed in inconspicuous attire. This man was desperate. He was driven to the edge of financial ruin, forced to consolidate his debts into one easy to manage monthly payment... and he knew there was only one woman for the job.
Vert
Dammit, give us more comics!
I'll kill you you don't and I'll shan't not give unbirth to your babies if do!
Unless the above statement refers to your present situation, in which case I can only wish you luck... and may the force be with you!
(I'll also stop bugeering you about the comic)