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That's the premise behind Paul Tobin and Benjamin Dewey's , where a feline named Burma reveals his secret cat-illuminati memoirs to an inquisitive journalist, from his days as an Egyptian deity to his machinations as a 20th century evil genius. —it's also clever and pretty as well, full of panels littered with visual detail and shoutouts to art history. For a taste of what Carroll has to offer, check out her webcomic is a potent, strange brew that may not go down easy for everyone, but may prove addictive to those who consume it.For bonus fun, there's even a promotional flowchat that helps you determine which kind of cat mastermind is older too: a talented young chef named Katie who's on the cusp of 30, trying to open her own restaurant, and attempting to deal with the mundane frustrations and regrets of adulthood. The adventures of a drug-addicted witch named Megg, her cat Mogg, and a humanoid owl, Hanselmann's comics are an unnerving voyage into the magical world of depression, drugs, and bad relationships/sexual mistakes—as full of all the awkwardness, nihilism, and dark humor as the real things, except with more talking animals.

They open with Megg and Mogg smoking, drinking, vegging on a filthy sofa.

“When I do Skype interviews and I’m just here like some sloppy guy, people are like, ‘Oh.’ ” Today, he is wearing a baggy red flannelette shirt, torn viciously at both elbows. “It’s kind of a personal thing that I grapple with.” Before interview, he was “going insane, in a relationship”. “Then I had this big explosion of honesty,” he says. Dog shit.” He wound up in Hobart, then in Melbourne, self-publishing comics at Sticky, the zine shop in the Degraves Subway that runs underneath Flinders Street.

He is prepping for a 20-state tour of the US, and his publicist has told him he must dress up for every leg. In the aftermath, Hanselmann began dressing up more often, in public. “I was working a bookstore job, vomiting in rubbish bins”, he says, exhausted from having stayed up all night drawing.

Some sequences could go head-to-head with any Judd Apatow comedy, as when Megg and Mogg break into a deli in the dead of night and accidentally steal 12 jars of pickled onions.

But, like as not, the plot will then go somewhere that is both more weird and more warm.

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