For Megan

If you're like most people in the world ... you're walking around the world, happily ignorant of the existence of a man we like to call Eric Hartman.  Well, allow me to shatter your happiness and introduce this character and illustrate the humor that exists in this man.  Enjoy the ride...
Forgive the lack of illustration, as I just spent an entire hour drawing up some cartoons only to find out the scanner won't work.  Wonderful.  It looks like one of YOU lucky individuals will get an original!  But anyway...here's the dialogue for the long-lost strips conceived in 8th grade.
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ERIC: Come on; you know you wanna step under the mistletoe!
          {mistletoe in place of loincloth}
ERIC: {poking airholes into a large cardboard box} Okay, theres the last airhole gosh, shell just love this she LOVES surprises! {climbs inside box; sent through the mail in this box labeled "To My Dingbat Wife"}
WIFE: {finds box on front porch} Um...I think I'll leave this one here until after breakfast. {walks away}
TEACHER: Okay, kids...today we will discuss "beatniks" and their poetry.  Now the thing that creates the magic of beatnik poetry is not the words, not the expressions...it is simply...THE BONGOS!   Let me hear 'em!  {Bongos begin.}
STUDENT: Um...Mr. Hartman, could you please stop dancing?
ERIC: I've covered all the bases.  I got the threads, I got the attitude...heck, I even got the elbow pads.
YOU: Well, Eric...I've got to admit - I'm impressed!
ERIC: I'm glad you're diggin' my style.  It's time to ride the hog.  {Pig oinks}
YOU: Okay, I take that back.
{Sign on storefront reads "Belly Dancers Needed."  Eric enters the store.}
ERIC: What do you MEAN, "I don't have the body?"  Isn't this called belly dancing for a reason?  Watch my belly dance!  {jiggles his stomach happily}
OWNER: Oh, my lord!
ERIC: {singing "Genie in a Bottle"} I've got the voice.  I've got the moves.  And I've SURE AS HELL got the body...Where's MY record deal?
ERIC: {extends a business card that has the word "meaty-err-ol..." crossed out, replaced with "weatherman" to a potential employer}
EMPLOYER: Weatherman, huh?  If you're such a great weatherman, what's your forecast?
ERIC: Well, I predict that it will become sunny if the clouds go away. 
ERIC: {Watching TV} Well, if Pooh can do it... {goes into a public place with a red midriff shirt on, nothing else and starts singing to the tune of the "Winnie
the Pooh" theme} "Eric Hartman...sexy I am...doo doo doo!"
BYSTANDER 1: Oh my lord!
BYSTANDER 2: Mommy!
BYSTANDER 3: Someone call 9-1-1!
BYSTANDER 4: Disgusting!  Put some clothes on!
WIFE: I know I'm just your dingbat wife, but do you mind telling me what is around your neck?
ERIC: Why, it's my ice, baby!  Bling-bling!
ERIC: You ready for some full-out boot-knockin'?
WIFE: Um...you're too much for me, Eric.
ERIC: Aww, baby - you flatter me.  Come over here!
WIFE: Aren't we out of milk?  I'll go get some.  {Door slams with her exit}