Theirs was a forbidden, geeky and entirely illogical friendship. (wide-ish pic behind cut)

The Lemming, though highly intelligent for its kind, nevertheless could be assumed not to know any better. The Mangler, on the other hand, was well aware that he was supposed to be the sworn enemy of all cute tundra rats. Nevertheless, they were friends.

In fact, after a hazily remembered night in Fleeblepox City Centre, they may have been technically married, but by mutual agreement they don’t talk about it.

Dreaming up alternative designs for mechanical men is hard. The above’s the best I’ve got; the bottom right’s how I think I used to draw him. (He’s meant to look like he spins round with those scythe-hands. I don’t know how he scratches his nose.)

I can’t seem to stop making bad art this evening.