character-a-day – Page 30

Flora Fatale

Dryad of the Venus Flytrap, something of a man eater

The dryads of the woodlands have been well documented, but far more deadly sprites live deep within the jungle.

Gold Star

Man running in a yellow tracksuit, his sweat patches show up in a star pattern

It’s funny how sweat marks are usually frowned upon, but put on a tracksuit, and suddenly they’re a badge of merit.

Can’t you hurry up in there!

The peepee dance

We’ve all done this dance at least once outside a bathroom.

Can’t you hurry up in there!

The peepee dance

We’ve all done this dance at least once outside a bathroom.

Musk Scented Gym Socks

The gray wolf is wearing gym socks to keep his paws warm. One of the socks is already slipping down, it’s such a challenge to pull them up again with no thumbs.

Even a wolf can get cold toes from time to time.

Simon the Butcher’s Apprentice

Simon the Butcher’s Apprentice hangs back, to discourage you from approaching the meat counter. He doesn’t want to deal with you. Six and a half more hours til the end of his shift.

Just another disinfected youth, with a big knife, and a grudge against society.

Simon the Butcher’s Apprentice

Simon the Butcher’s Apprentice hangs back, to discourage you from approaching the meat counter. He doesn’t want to deal with you. Six and a half more hours til the end of his shift.

Just another disinfected youth, with a big knife, and a grudge against society.

Jilted

A jilted bride is so enraged, she's almost spontaneously combusted

They say she’s still carrying a torch for you. But only so she can set you on fire.

Hats for Heat

Johnny is out in the snow wearing three hats to keep his body temperature stable. His fingers and toes have turned a pretty shade of purple.

You lose most of your heat through your head, right? …so if you wear enough hats, you should be able to run around in the snow with just shorts and a tshirt, right?

Wrong, Johnny, wrong!

Melty the Snowman

Melty the Snowman observes you with a baleful, lopsided expression, as he fades in to oblivion under the heat of the morning sun

Melty never asked for this short, pitiful existence. Now he slumps, just a few days old, but nonetheless about to succumb to a slow painful death.

It needn’t be like this. Call 1800 SNOWBALL now, and donate just one packet of frozen peas a month to save Melty, and hundreds of snowpeople like him.