12

Jon: The making of this strip was the catalyst for perhaps the most bitter feud Justin and I have ever shared. The burning question: are the young men in the background too "hip" to claim membership to the Hangin' Out Gang?

Justin: I had wanted to present the reader with an extreme juxtaposition of philosophy, with the, I suppose, "chic" apparel serving as a means to highlight the Hangin' Out Gang's inherent role as the world's struggling social neophytes. Jon, on the other hand found the contrast to be heavy-handed and ham-fisted.

Jon: It was...it's fair to say that it was, uh, pretty bitter. We didn't speak for days. And it just didn't work. I'd go try to do a shoot by myself, and people would ask where my friend was. When they found out that we weren't getting along, it really just took the sail out of things. I believe I was at Purdue University at the time, but I couldn't get a single one of the Hangin' Out Gang of over 30,000 kids to smile. It was a lesson in humility, to be sure. I realized that by feuding we were jeopardizing the legitimacy of the entire project. How could we talk about a gang hanging out if we couldn't hang out ourselves? A lot of soul-searching was done, and you know, here we are today. Go figure.

Justin: I'd also like to take this time and issue a formal apology to Jon. During the tenure of our feud we both did and said some things which, in hindsight, weren't in the spirit of good taste. One night, in a fit of drunken belligerence, I drove to Jon's house intent on introducing his bay window overlooking the valley to my tire-iron. Unfortunately, my ill-conceived plan went awry as I'd run over his dog inadvertently. Twice.

Jon: Tragedy collided head-on with embarrassment when it was learned by him that I didn't have a dog, but rather a plastic big-wheel tricycle I often go for rides in when I am in a rut. The destruction of this emotional device brought something out of me that I desperately needed. Laughter. We paused, giggled briefly, then went inside. I poured us a couple of ice-cold pops, and we watched a couple of PG-13 movies, skipping the mushy parts and rewinding to watch the big explosions over and over. For one night, if only for one night, we were the Hangin' Out Gang.