You might notice that the only author listed is Will. While I helped him with a bit of editing and panel placement, really, this is his baby, and it’d be a crime to try to take any credit for it. That crime would be intellectual property theft, and Will would follow it with another crime: assault. Surely with a deadly weapon. As happens when left to do his own thing, the art differs from what you may be accustomed to; it’s a combination of paper cutouts and photography. Why he chose this medium may be revealed within the coming releases.
Prior to Up to my Nipples’ incipient stages, Will and I met as players on the same ultimate team. You know, that sport where people throw frisbees to dogs. One morning before a game, Will spoke of his prior night’s insomnia, and then recited by memory in a community-theater-quality British accent the story he had written to combat his sleeplessness. Most of the team applauded or was baffled by the oddity that was the poem’s retelling. I instead noted that this is someone whose many talents I should one day exploit. The story was that of the Snarly Snoot and the exploitation, well, I’ll let you figure that out.