Narrative Magazine will not be printing Dos Factotum.
L Magazine will not be printing Dos Factotum.
Illiterate Magazine used to print Dos Factotum until they stated printing Perry Bible Fellowship and stopped contacting us.
Then Nick stopped making PBFs and we started making new Dos Factoums, but still nothing.
Looks like self-publishing after Season 10. Good thing that’s, like, next year when I’ll be broke and it won’t matter.
This is the rough edit of the dialogue that I hope to eventually make into a Dos Factotum short cartoon so I can learn more about making cartoons before I go and try to make an episodic cartoon.
I got the writing down, that’s no problem, it’s recording the dialogue, lip sync, hand-drawn 2D and moving key-frame vector images I’m really concerned about.
So, I pitched the idea of a Dos Factotum short to Ryan Grim (he writes the comic). Ryan was sort of into it, then he came back with the Two Stories In Two Minutes script. I was like: Nice. This is funny, brief and with minimal 2D animation, meaning most of the work could be put into learning the most accurate lip-sync possible.
Enter my tiny SnoFlake microphone and in a few minutes, I got Ryan to (reluctantly) read half the dialogue.
The edited conversation is here, just under two minutes, which is nice because Mika’s entrance and death in the above audio is just me reading stage direction.
The next update on this project should be when I load this audio into Reason to make some background noise, and I’ll post that too so y’all can follow me through the learning process.
BY: Ryan Grim
ACTION: Condom has a boat anchor. Cigarette has a shotgun.
Cig: Boy do I have a story for you.
Con: …
Cig: Do you wanna hear it?
Con: Only if you can tell it quickly—I’m leaving for the funeral home in two minutes.
Cig: Why are you going to a funeral home?
Con: It’s a long story. Wanna hear it?
Cig: I only have time for a one-minute story ‘cause I have to tell my story, too, before you leave in two minutes. And my story might take a minute.
Con: I’ll give you the Reader’s Digest version. So you know Mika, my tailor?
Cig: No.
Con: Well, I have this tailor; her name is Mika. She’s from Budapest, but that doesn’t matter.
Cig: Is she dead?
Con: I hope not! Who told you that?
Cig: No one. You said you’re going to a fune—
Con: Oh no, she’s not dead. She has murdered people, though. Back in Budapest.
Cig: Gypsies?
Con: Bingo. Anyway, so the other day I go in to pick up my trousers, right? And Mika’s a sobbing mess. Mascara running into her mouth. All that. I say, ‘Mika, what’s wrong?’ She tells me that her husband passed away. Cancer of the mouth.
Cig: Gross.
Con: I know. What’s worse, all her family’s back in Budapest and she doesn’t have any friends in town. She doesn’t want to go to the funeral alone, so she asks if I would go with her. Now, being the street-smart alley cat that I am, I say, ‘Yeah, I’ll go. But only if you alter my tuxedo shirt for free.’
Cig: What’d she say?
Con: She spits in my mouth and starts crying even louder. So I’m like, ‘Guess you’re going to your husband’s funeral all by yourself, you fapicsa.’
Cig: What’s a fapicsa?
Con: It means wooden cunt in Hungarian. Mika taught me. So I call her a fapicsa and she caves. She’s all like, ‘Fine! You monster. I’ll pick you up on Sunday at 2.’ So here we are.
Cig: What’s with the anchor?
Con: Mika told me to bring it. It’s some weird Eastern Orthodox thing.
Cig: Pretty good story. Wanna hear mine?
Con: Sure, but hurry up. She’ll be here any second.
Cig: So…I’m a hunter now. I’m going to hunt things I see in the street.
ACTION: [Long beat]
Con: That’s a pretty good story too.
Hungarian Woman’s voice: Halo, I’m here. Do you have zee anchor?
ACTION: The gun fires. Mika’s body hits the floor.
Con: Why did you—
Cig: It just went off by itself, I swear. The saleslady at the Cracker Barrel did say it had a loose trigger.
Con: What a mess.
Cig: Who’s gonna clean it?
Con: More importantly, who’s going to alter my tuxedo shirt now?
Cig: I’ll take it to my guy and pay for it. It is my fault, after all.
Con: Thanks. That’s the polite thing to do.
