♀Tiger Lily♀ is many things, but I hope that she would not mind me observing that a gentleman is not among them. (In fact, I believe that she is known to harbor a certain animosity to The Man.) So the latter sense is the intended one here.
Also, to be clear, a gentleman-hunter is a slightly different category of obstacle than the gentleman-eater (though often it is more a difference in emphasis than anything else; see Hall & Oates for one of the definitive treatments of this topic). I suspect we will encounter both on this adventure.
Jesse Wan: As Chris seems to have gone back to normal in seconds, the poison probably isn’t really bad enough to need an antidote.
The rate those things are going at means a crash helmet would be useful if you wanted to go in there, though. I wonder if The Dane left one downstairs.
s854: I don’t think Chris was hit by a dart. That second panel is Dr. Haller waving his hand to activate the booby trap while Chris watches from the doorway. His exclamation is a “Gah!” of surprise, not a “Gah!” of pain.
(So how does he know the darts are poison? Just a thoroughly reasonable assumption, given the context.)
It’s the Latin roots: “cogitatus,” past participle of “cogitare,” to think or think about, from “co + agitare,” to drive or agitate. So to cogitate is to shake something up, ultimately.
Please consider the universe we are viewing. The wine might cogitate, it might be able to fly over the darts, next strip we might hear it quote poetry. When a gamer becomes a helicopter and a water cooler walks around on two legs, the concept of “impossible” goes completely out the window.
Now here is where our two friends who used to occupy this building may have another small advantage. They might know of the service tunnel through the men’s room.
“Burke and Hare”, old British poem about two grave robbers. Not quite Chris’ area of expertise, but the other two might be looking in a graveyard for rare cryptids.
Please. Any villian can have poison darts…
… but for gentlemen hunters it is de rigueur.
But that wall decor would make a Hippy on a bad acid trip feel nauseous.
Hippies are always nauseous
This would make them nauseated as well
Is that “gentleman-hunter” as in a hunter who is a gentleman, or are we talking Most Dangerous Game here?
Yes.
♀Tiger Lily♀ is many things, but I hope that she would not mind me observing that a gentleman is not among them. (In fact, I believe that she is known to harbor a certain animosity to The Man.) So the latter sense is the intended one here.
Also, to be clear, a gentleman-hunter is a slightly different category of obstacle than the gentleman-eater (though often it is more a difference in emphasis than anything else; see Hall & Oates for one of the definitive treatments of this topic). I suspect we will encounter both on this adventure.
Depending on the trope, the wine is also poisoned, the antidote to the poison, or does nothing, while CLAIMING to do one of the above.
Jesse Wan: As Chris seems to have gone back to normal in seconds, the poison probably isn’t really bad enough to need an antidote.
The rate those things are going at means a crash helmet would be useful if you wanted to go in there, though. I wonder if The Dane left one downstairs.
s854: I don’t think Chris was hit by a dart. That second panel is Dr. Haller waving his hand to activate the booby trap while Chris watches from the doorway. His exclamation is a “Gah!” of surprise, not a “Gah!” of pain.
(So how does he know the darts are poison? Just a thoroughly reasonable assumption, given the context.)
I hope the jazzy suit he is wearing is thick enough or steel plated
So don’t go in the corridor. See if you can grab it from without.
It certainly looks like a situation for Sciencing. Key’s metal, so Mad Magnetism might do the trick.
If he’s carrying it around, it’s probably pretty well cogitated, too…
Oops! Should be a reply to Jesse Wan…
How can wine be cogitated? Agitated, perhaps, but certainly you would agree that wine is incapable of thinking, deeply or otherwise?
You gently pour it from the bottle to the decanter, and stare at it intensely for a while.
It’s the Latin roots: “cogitatus,” past participle of “cogitare,” to think or think about, from “co + agitare,” to drive or agitate. So to cogitate is to shake something up, ultimately.
Please consider the universe we are viewing. The wine might cogitate, it might be able to fly over the darts, next strip we might hear it quote poetry. When a gamer becomes a helicopter and a water cooler walks around on two legs, the concept of “impossible” goes completely out the window.
The horrible LSD bad trip, eye blinding colors with paisley makes it very hard to see the darts to.
Fiendish! In a good way.
See the darts to… what?
Avoid them? time their firing sequence? figure how to catch them all?
Figure it wouldn’t be too hard to catch them all, if you weren’t too particular how.
Now here is where our two friends who used to occupy this building may have another small advantage. They might know of the service tunnel through the men’s room.
Does Bubbles’s Cousin Bidet work in the old building or the new building?
Jeffereys Tube
Up the stair and down the hall,
Berk and Haller have it all.
Berk is servile, Haller’s smart,
Chris’s the one that gets the darts.
—I leave it to the reader to figure out where I got this one.
“Burke and Hare”, old British poem about two grave robbers. Not quite Chris’ area of expertise, but the other two might be looking in a graveyard for rare cryptids.
Very good. It’s a little short, but my time hasn’t been my own today. But I’m on vacation—later in the week, something longer, I hope…
I actually like that color combination. What does that say about me?
Darts, yes. Moving, poisoned darts? _Mad_ Gentleman-hunter.