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The caption says, "The three stages of grief; denial." Dogbert sits on his pillow thinking, "No . . . Dilbert can't be dead." The caption says, "Anger." Dogbert stands on his pillow and thinks, "I'll kill the scum who did it!" The caption says, "Economics." Dogbert says into the phone, "No expensive caskets. Just wrap him in newspapers; he would have wanted it that way."
Dogbert stands on a table rubbing a lamp. Dilbert asks, "Why are you rubbing that lamp?" Dogbert replies, "It's a routine check for magic genies." Dilbert says, "Carry on." A genie pops out of the lamp and says, "You have released me." Dogbert shouts, "Yes!!! Ha, ha!! Now you must grant me three wishes!" The genie replies, "Get real, four-eyes. We don't have a binding contract here." The genie says, "I LIKE living in a lamp. You disturbed me. I'm going to turn you into a wiener and go home." The genie turns Dogbert into a hot dog. He thinks, "At least it's an experience I can relish."
The defense lawyer says to the jury, "My client has been accused of the most heinous crimes." The attorney points to a man holding an ax and wearing an executioner's hat. The attorney asks, "But does this look like a person who could kill??" Dogbert, who is sitting next to Dilbert, raises his hand and says, "Ooh! Ooh! I know this one!!"
The judge asks, "Has the jury reached a verdict?" Dogbert stands and replies, "Yes, your honor. We find the defense attorney poorly dressed and obnoxious. We sentence him to death." The judge says, "I don't think you can do that." Dogbert continues, "Furthermore, we find that your honor looks fetching in a black muumuu."
Dilbert sits at a conference table with three people from marketing. A woman says, "Maybe Dilbert can explain to the marketing people how the system works." Dilbert thinks, "Uh-oh." Dilbert says, "Uh . . . So the electrons alter the data bits . . . And then they go to the virtual array where they conflugalize. Got it?" The woman asks, "How many of those words did you just make up?" Dilbert thinks, "They're on to me."
Dogbert: Uh-oh! Dilbert's escaped ego has grown since getting that toupee. Dilbert's Ego: Ho-ho, what a night! I crashed a party for female police officers! I got phone numbers from twelve women! Dogbert: 9-1-1? Dilbert's Ego: They must be roommates.
Dilbert stands at the counter in a joke store. The salesclerk says, "You might be interested in our exploding cigars." The clerk lights a cigar and says, "I'll fire one up just to show you . . ." The trick cigar explodes. Dilbert asks, "Aren't they harmful?" The clerk, who has burns on his face, replies, "Studies are inconclusive."
Dilbert and three men sit at a table eating lunch. A man says, "Yeah, I once built an FM transmitter from old television parts . . ." Another man says, "That's nothing . . . I built a broadband multiplexer from tuna cans and a lamp." Dilbert says, ". . . My first orbiting space station was made entirely from old socks and Vaseline." Dilbert thinks, "I hate going last."
Dilbert sits at his desk working on his computer. Dogbert asks, "Has your electronic mail system made you more efficient?" Dilbert replies, "In a way." Dilbert explains, "Now I'm getting ignored at the speed of light." Dogbert says to the reader, "You can send electronic mail to us through the Prodigy system, care of Scott Adams, ID number mwpg@3a." The caption says, "Note: this strip is not affiliated with Prodigy in any way."