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.

Since the death of Uncle Theosophus the finances of the Well-Dressed Albatross had become so strained that he was forced to consider embarking on a career, and to this end he had sent away for the calendar of a community college.

As though at gunpoint, Mrs. Love lead Mr. Love into the desert to discuss the future of her grandson.

Clive, however, WAS in Polanco, and living below Pim and Bim. Clive’s book on Fibonacci Primes—whose content was of no interest to anyone—turned out to be the world’s longest palindrome when translated into Spanish. So Clive had been made head of the math department at UNAM.

But Ukifune wasn’t anywhere near Polanco. In fact she’d just disembarked a train arriving at Hamilton, Ontario, Canada.

Finding themselves back in Polanco and needing a place to stay, Pim and Bim occupied the penthouse Slim had vacated some days earlier.

But nothing happened. Eventually the stress was too much and Slim abandoned the penthouse, never to return.

The forked path took Slim back to the Polanco penthouse he had obtained through meanness and lies. That nothing had happened to it seemed too good to be true. For fear of being under surveillance, Slim deprived Slimself of the stellar view the real estate boasted.

As he so often did, Mr. Love dreamed that the dark figure of Mrs. Love was approaching him from across the desert. Tonight the dark figure of Mrs. Love really WAS approaching him from across the desert. It happens.

It was mid-morning when The Shadowy Figure reached home, made sure the nanny had gotten the kids off to school, fed the goldfish, rotated the aloe vera, and sat down to enter events of the last 24 hours in his private journal, as all investigators should.

The report from the Shadowy Figure came in moments after Mr. Love had parked his 1960 Buick Electra in front of the motel he so often occupied when overwhelmed by life’s complications, and checked in to Room 13.