And heres some pictures:

Getting started, everythings fine and cool



Me, my wife and our friend Josh (him being the semi bold one)



This is how my finger ended up, its been almost a week and its still kinda numb



Josh working on his Tablet PC, lucky bastard



Michelle doing her thing



Our friend Aaron showed up late, thats his trademark



My side of the table, not looking too great



5 AM WTF



Aaaand all done

Wow so you did that in 24 hours? Thats really bad ass. Your quite the artist.

very cool Xavi... were you and your wife competing against each other?

Its not a competition, its a challenge. Were all there just to see if we can even DO the damn thing.

Every year there is a compilation book though, they pick their top ten amongst all the entries (which are about 1200) I dont have my hopes up since my style doesnt fit the kind of crowd these books are catered to (the Indy comic type)

Oh yeah, I also got done 4 hours ahead of time :

dude, awesome. thanks for sharing.
I got flashbacks from when I was a kid and I used to draw comic books and got blisters on my index finger. Bad times.

Craziness. I can't even fathom doing a 24 page comic in 24 hours or less, though if I don't have to ink it, then I suppose that could work. Last year I was taking a storytelling class, but my dumb ass didn't factor in whether it was geared for cartoonists (comic books) or illustrators (...illustrations). It turned out to be the former. We had 3 comics due in the first semester... first two were 3 pages, and the last was 6. Our interpretation of the Brer Rabbit and Brer Coon story (which I turned them into zombies bound to their corpses by occult magick), a real accident that had occurred (my sister hydroplaning into a brick wall), and a final story we had to pitch ourselves. I had no trouble doing the pencils, but they all had to be inked and photocopied, late assignments = a 0. I spent many nights until 5 in the morning working on that shit, trying to get the inks to look right, trying to add shading with inks, getting angry when I'd accidentally smear it, passing out and waking up 10 minutes before class started with unfinished, or shitty work. Lets just say, I almost had a fucking heart attack every. fucking. Tuesday. I went into that class because the alternative was oil painting and I hate oil paint. I left halfway through the year because I suddenly missed oil painting and loved every minute of it.

So with this in mind, I tip my fucking hat to you, you crazy fuck.