
'Dis guy gon' spin flacko, rip racko
spit yo' bones and crack yo' teeth
make space and light 'dat reef
move back - o...
Dilla gon' smack yo
supah-powa'
plant a flowa'
yo' brain - "Thank you"
never took 'dis showa.
​
and this is just any regular hour
when your brain is fried for another dolla'
society involved in too many a day
Dilla preaches, don't forget to say "Hey"
​
these people around
they're brothers and sisters
you never bothered to crown
"Ahh shit..., my spliff is out."


"Dude, I don't know what's up with that Kila chick, but there's so many stories about her."
​
"I know, I know about all those sexy shows."
​
"No, man. Not that. People say she's very dangerous..."
​
"Dangerous? But she helps so many monsters."
​
"That's exactly it. Everyone is freaked out at how she's so helpful and kind. I've seen her once covered in blood while she was hugging a sword. Dude, I'm telling you, she's psycho."
​
"Maybe she just loves swords."
​
"That's what she said."




The Main Characters from
The Adventures of Mr. Polly
Six individuals. Six girls. Six guys.
These are the characters that help Polly discover his mind, body and soul. They all share a common goal, yet they have different interests and motives. Their personality is what makes, in the end, each one of them interesting. Here you will get just a glimpse inside of their minds and soul. If you would wish to learn more about them, we advise you to read the first Chapter of the comic or to support us and buy the book!
Fattso is the most humane character from them all. He loves food (LOVES IT) to the point where all food, inside of his eyes, has developed a personality and life (that's why we see here different products with eyes and mouths).
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This has also been a side effect of all the time Fattso spends by himself or inside the whore-houses. Oh, yeah, he loves women, though, we don't know if more or less than his food. What we do know is that he treats them with kindness and respect.
​
The steps of the giant shake the earth into a trembling smile. When the women see Fattso coming, they gather at the window and wave their handkerchiefs in welcome.
"Today we are going to study the mind. The first thing you have to remember in today's class is that all advice is autobiographical."
​
Erika's voice surrounds the air of the classroom. Flying hearts break into tears, the wind carries them to the ground where they transform into cheerleading water - and the rapid pencil of the students can be heard noting down the idea.
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"I may be small in size, but my voice can be heard far back in the classroom, right?" The students nod. "Your voice is something not heard from the mouth, but something felt from your soul. You can be the tiniest ant in the kingdom and move the mightiest mountain in the world, if you put the strength and confidence of your soul behind every word."
​
The students write everything down. No pencils are heard this time.
A little bit of truth when there is air more important than the sound of footsteps at the ear of an existing thought, is far more revelatory than what others claim is to be important in seconds lost inside a video of unconscious manipulation and ... silence. Let me have a single hand and I will use your five fingers to point towards five roads that will take your life onwards and forwards from where you are to where you want to be. Yet your other hand, sly in it's behavior, points towards objectives closer to your body, so close you just have to step and you can already grab each one of them with one finger. Choose, my friend. Choose the way and don't forget : you can always grab something which is close to you while walking towards something far away.
I'll fuck you up.
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Shit will be more human than you when I'm done with your body.
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Look one more time at my boobs and you'll wish you were handicapped all your life.
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Don't look at me. We're finished fucking when you can't even open your eyes anymore.
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I'm as kind as you are to the ants you step on when you walk.
​
Strength and intelligence are tied together like my clit is tied to your mouth. START SAYING YOUR POEM MOTHERFUCKER.
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