THE 2000AD MESSAGE BOARD 2012 ADVENT CALENDAR!

[Dash Decent]

HEY PARENTS!
Low on cash?  Kids clambering for a Judge's uniform for Christmas?
Worry no more!  Zrag Industries (London - Paris - Peckham) present:
BODGE DREDD for kids


Here's some of the comments we've received from our many happy customers:
"WAAAAAAHHHH!"
'I want my money back!"
"....absolute rip off."
"Why can't Steve Sterlacchini adopt me?"



May cause skin discolouration, rashes and a desire to juggle parsnips.
Money back guarantee: If you're not satisified, we guarantee not to give your money back.

[Dash Decent]

(After reading WhitBloke's cracker joke.)

[Dash Decent]

[Dash Decent]

Sir Pete Wells, KTT, the well known star of "Kick Arsom" and pastie-powered prog cover coverer, has released his annual Christmas message.  This year he has chosen to console those who have not been so honoured: "Keep Trying, Turkeys."



...Five (million) letters from Buttonman,
Four gigabyte biochips
Three KTTs,
Two soundtrack albums
And a partridge in Pete Wells Block!

[Dash Decent]

[Dash Decent]

Have you seen all the garage sale flyers going up in our street?

[Dash Decent]

An old file has recently come to light revealing plans by IPC Fleetway to merge 2000AD with another title, as had previously done with Tornado and Starlord.

With no adventure titles left, it seems the plan was to merge the science fiction title with one of their humorous titles.  The resulting comic would be presented in two halves, with readers being able to take sides with one faction or the other.



Some characters were to be integrated into existing storylines


Other characters were to be adapted to fit the new image


Sadly, most of the documentation in the file appears to have been destroyed.

[Dash Decent]

My son and number one helper also wanted to join in and has drawn these for everyone:





Yep, Dredd gets a lump of coal for Christmas.

[proud dad] Beat that, pros! : D [/proud dad]

[David Broughton]

+++ DATA LINK ESTABLISHED +++ PAGE 24 OF 25 +++



+++ SEQUENCE CONCLUDES TOMORROW +++

http://dbroughton.blogspot.co.uk/

[vzzbux]

A day of making paper snowflakes I just couldn't resist.






V

[Pete Wells]

Wow, what an amazing year for the Advent Calendar, some real talent and creativity on show! Well done everyone!

Now it's time for the Pro's! Thank you to all who had the time to do something for us, everyone REALLY appreciate it! Right, I'll post 'em in the order I got 'em:

Firstly, the wonderful Jock sent this brilliant unseen bit of concept work from Dredd. He says "an unseen bit of very quick 'world building' concept art from DREDD. Of course, there probably won't be any Polaroid cameras in MC-1, but it went some way to cementing a realness to the idea." Brilliant!



Next, the always brilliant Karl Richardson sent this superb festive sketch:



Our next treat comes courtesy of the Gurn-meister himself, Mr Neil Roberts!



The batty Mr Dave Taylor was kind enough to send us this beautiful Batman image:



Next Jon Haward who, bless him, was poorly and moving studios so didn't have time to do anything new for us, but dug out this fine Dredd/Batman image he'd previously worked on. He also asked me to point you to his and Alan Grant's Tales of the Buddha collection which you can buy here: http://www.renegadeartsentertainment.com/comics/tales-of-the-buddha-before-he-got-enlightened



Hold on to your hats folks, the fooking brilliant Ben Willsher sent me this - 'What if Jack Kirby had drawn Dredd?' Godayum, this could be a prog cover in it's own right, it's stunning...



Hot on his heels, Alex Ronald, who was bored on his Christmas holidays, sent the picture below. I'd frigging LOVE to see Alex back in, or on, the prog:



Friend of the board, PJ Holden sent this really rather horrible festive Dirty Frank, uuuugh!:



Hot on his heels came this hilarious tribute to the cover of Prog 310 by the lovely Boo Cook (must stop looking at that turkey's neck bit...):



And finally, for now, his highness D'Israeli sends this Trifectorious sketch! He seems to have battled an array of technical problems to get it to us so "Thank you Mr Brooker, it's hilarious!"



So there you have it folks, we may well see more as the day progresses too!

I'd like to say a giant 'Thank you' to all the Pro's who've taken time out of their busy schedules to give us an extra Christmas thrill and to everyone who's contributed, either to the calendar itself or the comments thread. Merry Christmas to you all, Grud bless us, everyone!

[The Monarch]

and now for my hastily cobbled together effort.

How The Tsar Stole Christmas

David page (with apologies to Dr. Seuss)


Every one
Down in russia
Liked Christmas a lot...

But the Tsar,
Who lived just within his Faberge egg palace,
Did NOT!

The tsar hated Christmas!  The whole Christmas season!
Now, please don't ask why.  No one quite knows the reason.
It could be his head wasn't screwed on just right.
It could be, perhaps, that his penis was too tiny.
But I think that the most likely reason of all
May have been that Nikolai liked it which made him quite whiny.

But,
Whatever the reason,
His wang or that fool,
He stood there on Christmas Eve, hating the proles,
Staring down from his hottub with a sour, tsary frown
At the warm lighted windows below in their town.
For he knew every prole down in russia beneath
Was busy now, banging hookers and drinking mead.

"And they're enjoying themselves!"  he snarled with a sneer.
"Tomorrow is Christmas!  It's practically here!"
Then he growled, with his rich fingers nervously drumming,
"I MUST find some way to stop Christmas from coming!"

              For,
              Tomorrow, he knew...

..All the prole girls and boys
Would wake bright and early.  They'd rush for their toys!
And then!  Oh, the noise!  Oh, the Noise!  Noise!  Noise!  Noise!
That's one thing he hated!  The NOISE!  NOISE!  NOISE!  NOISE!

Then the proles, young and old, would sit down to a feast.
And they'd feast!  And they'd feast!
And they'd FEAST!
                FEAST!
                     FEAST!
                          FEAST!

They would feast on the finest their meage purses could measure and speak of tales of Nikolai dantes latest adventure!

Which was something the tsar couldn't stand in the least!

         And THEN
         They'd do something
         He liked least of all!

Every prole down in russia, the tall and the small,
Would stand close together, with Christmas bells ringing.
They'd stand hand-in-hand.  And the proles would start singing!

         They'd sing!  And they'd sing!
         And they'd SING!  SING!  SING!  SING!

And the more the tsar thought of this tuneless carolling,
The more the Tsar thought, 'I must stop this whole thing!"
"Why, for fifty-three years I've put up with it now!
"I MUST stop this Christmas from coming!
                           ...But HOW?"

Then he got an idea!
An awful idea!
THE TSAR
GOT A WONDERFUL, AWFUL IDEA!

"I know just what to do!"  The Tsar laughed in his throat.
And he made a quick dante coat.
And he chuckled, and clucked, "What a great Tsary trick!
"With this coat and dyed hair, I look just like Saint Nick!"

"All I need is a crest"
The Tsar looked around.
But, since crests are scarce, there was none to be found.
Did that stop the old Tsar...?
NO!  The Tsar simply said,
"If I can't find a crest, I'll make one instead!"
So he took his newest Ipod. And with some glee
Stuck it upon his shoulder and grinned evilly

THEN
He loaded some bags
And some old empty sacks
On a ramshackle carrage
He began his sinister plan.

All their windows were dark.  Quiet snow filled the air.
All the proles were all dreaming sweet dreams without care
When he came to the first little house on the square.
"This is stop number one," the old tsary dante hissed
And he climbed to the roof, empty bags in his fist.

Then he slid down the chimney.  A rather tight pinch.
But, if the so called gentleman thief could do it, then so could the Tsary Dante.
He got stuck only once, for a moment or two.
Then he stuck his head out of the fireplace flue
Where the little prole stockings all hung in a row.
"These stockings," he grinned, "are the first things to go!"

Then he slithered and slunk, with a smile most unpleasant,
Around the whole room, and he took every present!
Pop guns!  And bicycles!  Roller skates!  Drums!
Checkerboards!  Tricycles!  Popcorn!  And porn!
And he stufed them in bags.  Then the tsar, very nimbly,
Stuffed all the bags, one by one, up the chimbley!

Then he slunk to the icebox.  He took the proles' feast!
He took the meagre scrappings!  He took the tiny feast!
He cleaned out that icebox as quick as a flash.
Why, that Tsar even took their last can of finest prole hash!

Then he stuffed all the food and drugs and booze up the chimney with glee.
"And NOW!" grinned the Tsar, "I will stuff up the tree!"

And the Tsar grabbed the tree, and he started to shove
When he heard a small sound like the coo of a dove.
He tuned around fast, and he saw a small prole!
Little Mary sueov, who was not more than two.

The Tsar had been caught by this tiny prole daughter
Who'd got out of bed for a cup of cold water.
She stared at the Tsar and said, "Nikie Dante, why,
"Why are you taking our Christmas tree?  WHY?"

But, you know, that old Tsar was so smart and so slick
He thought up a lie, and he thought it up quick!
"Why, my sweet babushka," the fake Dante lied,
"Your ma promised me some stuff for shagging her my dear.
"It is only fair after!.

And his fib fooled the child.  Then he patted her head
And he got her a drink and he sent her to bed.
And when Mary sueov went to bed with her cup,
He went to the chimney and stuffed the tree up!

Then the last thing he took
Was the log for their fire!
Then he went up the chimney, himself, the old liar.
On their walls he left nothing but hooks and some wire.

And the one speck of food
That he left in the house
Was a crumb that was even too small for a mouse.

Then
He did the same thing
To the other proles houses

Leaving crumbs
Much too small
For the other proles mouses!

It was quarter past dawn...
  All the proles, still a-bed,
  All the proles, still a-snooze
When he packed up his sled,
Packed it up with their presents!  The ribbons!  The wrappings!
The tags!  And the tinsel!  The trimmings!  The trappings!
Three thousand feet up!  Up the side of his palace,
He rode with his load to the tiptop to dump it!
"Fuck the proles!"  he was Tsar-ish-ly humming.
"They're finding out now that no Christmas is coming!
"They're just waking up!  I know just what they'll do!
"Their mouths will hang open a minute or two
"Then the Proles down in Russia will all cry BOO-HOO!

"That's a noise," grinned the Tsar,
"That I simply MUST hear!"
So he paused.  And the Tsar put his hand to his ear.
And he did hear a sound rising over the snow.
It started in low.  Then it started to grow...

But the sound wasn't sad!
Why, this sound sounded merry!
It couldn't be so!
But it WAS merry!  VERY!

        He stared down at russia!
        The Tsar popped his eyes!
        Then he shook!
        What he saw was a shocking surprise!

Every prole down in russia, the tall and the small,
Was singing!  Without any presents at all!

He HADN'T stopped Christmas from coming!
IT CAME!
Somehow or other, it came just the same!

And the Tsar, with his Tsar-feet ice-cold in the snow,
Stood puzzling and puzzling: "How could it be so?
"It came without ribbons!  It came without tags!
"It came without packages, boxes or bags!"
And then he puzzled three hours, till his puzzler was sore.
Then the Tsar thought of something he hadn't before!
"Maybe Christmas," he thought, "doesn't come from a store.
"Maybe Christmas...perhaps...means a little bit more DAMN YOU RUSSIA...DAMN YOU DANTE!"

And what happened then...?
Well...in Russia they say
That the Tsars brain broke
three sizes that day!
And the minute his brain switched off so hard,
He sent his ravens and soldiers and hordes.
They cut up the proles, they slit the throats of many and good old Tsar while watching the fun he took their meagre food...
          And he...

       ...HE HIMSELF...!

  The Tsar carved the roast beast!

Dedicated to Mary sueov and the fifteen thousand proles who died in the Christmas day massacre...

MERRY CHRISTMAS!

[Pete Wells]

The mighty Al Ewing has sent this festive ditty to the tune of 'It's the most wonderful time of the year' to reflect the current situation in Mega City One. Enjoy:

It's the most horrible time of the year!
With the city in pieces
And you're leaking foeces
because of your fear!
And because somebody cut off your ear!

It's the most dangerous season of all!
With no spy-in-the-skying
To stop bullets flying
Or judges to call!
So ignore those screams you hear through the wall!

There'll be no time for bunting
With cannibals hunting
you hoping to chop off your head!
There'll be deadly infections
And sad recollections
Of relatives who are now dead!

It's the most sorrowful time ever known!
There'll be sobbing and weeping
And such trouble sleeping
Because you're alone -
Well, apart from your fiancee's headbone!

There'll be cholera breeding
And sectors seceding
And terrorists gunning you down!
There'll be rad-leaks and tumours
And frightening rumours
That Dark Judges are back in town!

There'll be blocks filled up with corpses to clear!
And it's no big surprise to
Be selling your eyes to
A black marketeer -
It's the most hideous time!
It's the most godawful time!
It's the most horrible time of the year!

If anyone isn't familliar with the tune, then firstly, shame on you and secondly, here it is: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5yDQWcB8-Dw

THANK YOU AL!

[Dash Decent]

THANK YOU AL!

...AND TO AL A GOOD NIGHT!

(Sorry, couldn't resist.  I'll get my coat.)

[LARF]

Merry Christmas everyone! He's on his way...



Larger version here: http://client.eatsleepthink.com/20o0A6/finished/Mike_card_2000px.jpg