You know, I’d kind of half-assumed that Sam’s “we have a hazmat suit,” comment was a joke. Apparently not. Now the real question – does that make it funnier?
I actually went ahead and looked up how much a hazmat suit would cost after reading this.
The fact that it’s apparently an acceptable Halloween costume did not make it easier.
Best I could tell, the cheapest one that completely covers you is $250, though I suspect it’s not air tight, and models between $1,000-$5,000 are the more common types.
So… Here’s the thoughts:
The new game store is almost certainly being run by Dove.
Whoever is bankrolling him has money (that WAS a limo that pulled up…)
This means Dove’s​ shop (henceforth named ‘Rectal Prolapse’ until we see otherwise) can afford to sell at a loss. He might also hire ‘booth bunny’ eye candy to draw in more clientele.
Sam cannot afford to do so.
It doesn’t matter how nice his store is, how pleasant his workers are, he can’t hope to match prices.
Dove wins.
HOWEVER:
Dove also has no reason to deal with problem customers. He will see need for the store to be welcoming and pleasant​, so long as it does better than Sam’s.
The Rectal Prolapse becomes a hellhole of the worst sort of gamers imaginable. People will hold their noses and buy from there, due to the outrageous deals offered, but they will still rent the back room at Sam’s, and even spend money.
The Rectal Prolapse becomes a money pit, filled with hate and bile and the smell of the sort of gamers that all other game stores would turn away. The only thing it has is lower prices.
Eventually, prices drop to the point that it is cheaper for Sam to buy from there than his suppliers.
Sam is still not doing well, but Dove can no longer lower prices without aiding his rival.
Of course, I am probably off by a mile, but hey, fun times.
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HOVER-TEXT: Cheesin’ Ain’t Easy.
Just remember, children, always take off your Cheetoh-dust-covered hazmat suit before insulting someone else.
Also… that hazmat suit. Ew.
I… Did not expect there to actually BE a hazmat suit!
Cheetos are the yellow cake of snack foods, after all.
Chester’s feeling like hugging paw paw.
DO IT! Doooooo iiiiiiiiiit!
You know, I’d kind of half-assumed that Sam’s “we have a hazmat suit,” comment was a joke. Apparently not. Now the real question – does that make it funnier?
Probably not?
It’s definitely worldbuilding, though.
Gonna go with “YEP!”
I actually went ahead and looked up how much a hazmat suit would cost after reading this.
The fact that it’s apparently an acceptable Halloween costume did not make it easier.
Best I could tell, the cheapest one that completely covers you is $250, though I suspect it’s not air tight, and models between $1,000-$5,000 are the more common types.
Always…*huff*…enough…breath…For sass.
RE:hovertext, but it lets you swim in The Fountain of Varnoth with the Girl
So… Here’s the thoughts:
The new game store is almost certainly being run by Dove.
Whoever is bankrolling him has money (that WAS a limo that pulled up…)
This means Dove’s​ shop (henceforth named ‘Rectal Prolapse’ until we see otherwise) can afford to sell at a loss. He might also hire ‘booth bunny’ eye candy to draw in more clientele.
Sam cannot afford to do so.
It doesn’t matter how nice his store is, how pleasant his workers are, he can’t hope to match prices.
Dove wins.
HOWEVER:
Dove also has no reason to deal with problem customers. He will see need for the store to be welcoming and pleasant​, so long as it does better than Sam’s.
The Rectal Prolapse becomes a hellhole of the worst sort of gamers imaginable. People will hold their noses and buy from there, due to the outrageous deals offered, but they will still rent the back room at Sam’s, and even spend money.
The Rectal Prolapse becomes a money pit, filled with hate and bile and the smell of the sort of gamers that all other game stores would turn away. The only thing it has is lower prices.
Eventually, prices drop to the point that it is cheaper for Sam to buy from there than his suppliers.
Sam is still not doing well, but Dove can no longer lower prices without aiding his rival.
Of course, I am probably off by a mile, but hey, fun times.
Hey, Rectal Prolapse even has capital R and P. Now that’s clever marketing!
Good, honest work
Brian, the jokes in this comic are dangerously cheesy.
(DAYS LATER COMING UP WITH A BETTER JOKE, YAY)
Follow up question, Trevor: are you really gonna sass someone close enough to put you in a bear hug and get Cheeto dust all over your fancy coat?