Pim Comic Strip

How I came to write Pim
People often ask how I came to write Pim. It seems like a thousand years since I discovered Pim, or that Pim discovered me. Thankfully I kept detailed notes and saved photos from that time. While I can’t swear to the absolute accuracy of what you are about to read, I have done my best to capture the essence of how Pim entered my life.

However, just after the sale—from an apartment abandoned by the time police had traced the call—Christie’s received anonymous information that the painting was a forgery.

In fact, the Well-Dressed Albatross was NOT in a pub. He was at Christie’s, keen to bid on a charming equestrian scene by George Stubbs.

With Mrs. Love out of the way (or so he believed) Mr. Love began his search for the Well-Dressed Albatross by checking every drinking establishment on Earth. But the Well-Dressed Albatross was proving difficult to find.

You’ve guessed that Pim and Bim don’t require food or shelter and only get jobs because they enjoy them. Like this new one, processing cargo at an airport (a job so bland I haven’t bothered to imagine what they were thinking.)

Knowing that complex strategies against Mrs. Love were doomed to failure, Mr. Love and the Vivians contrived an explosion that would blow Mrs. Love’s headquarters to oblivion. It went off perfectly. However, two days prior Mrs. Love had relocated to a disused observation tower.

As usual, the Vivians were way ahead of Mr. Love.

Mr. Love knew he could not defeat Mrs. Love by himself. That he must needs enlist his ‘nieces,’ Meg and Peg. He set out for their headquarters, navigating an air of toxic emissions and hellish winged creatures.

A blinding flash of the obvious revealed to Mr. Love that he and the Well-Dressed Albatross must exchange appendages. But what if the Well-Dressed Albatross had come to prefer arms to wings? Mr. Love needed to think this one through carefully.

Unlike the Well-Dressed Albatross, who had made great use of his new arms, Mr. Love could use his new wings only to fly above the earth and observe it. Alighting on the ledge of a great cathedral, he understood the true malice of what Mrs. Love had done to him.

The film jammed in the projector and flamed out of existence, depositing Brad—with a splat—on the concrete floor of the Teatro Morelos.