Get Fuzzy by Darby Conley for March 30, 2014
Bucky: Want me to do your future? Satchel: You mean ...become me? Bucky: No, tell it. Astral Bob gave me some tarot cards and made me an apprentice psychic. Satchel: You have to apprentice to be wrong at something? Bucky: You want it or not? Satchel: Wait, if you didn't practice, could you screw up and get my future right? If you're an apprentice psychic, can I be a trainee toe stubbed? I never get that right! I mean, I was fine until I got rid of Ph.D. in a rake-upside-the-head, and now I have a constant headache! Bucky: Your lack of serious is making a mockery of the science of printed cardboard knowing your future! Satchel: Ok, ok, jeez! For someone who's supposed to know the future, you're quite impatient. Bucky: Now... huh? Tuna? Aw, I left the magical cards of all-seeing at the save-o-rama.