[[A soldier is on the ground behind a low wall, writing a letter.]]
My Dearest Cordelia,
It has been far too long since I last gazed upon your lithe and supple body through my telescopic sights, and I fear you may have found a superior vantage poin--
<<BLAM!>> <<BLAM!>> <<BLAM!>>
--a splendid effort, my love, but your shots find only a decoy, and reveal your position atop the maintenance shed.
I pray this missive and my grenades find you well.
War is hell.
{{Title text: They offered to make me a green beret, but I liked my regular one. Although it gets kind of squashed under my helmet.}}
Warning: this comic occasionally contains strong language (which may be unsuitable for children), unusual humor (which may be unsuitable for adults), and advanced mathematics (which may be unsuitable for liberal-arts majors).
We did not invent the algorithm. The algorithm consistently finds Jesus. The algorithm killed Jeeves. The algorithm is banned in China. The algorithm is from Jersey. The algorithm constantly finds Jesus. This is not the algorithm. This is close.