when george michael faust was born, he couldn't write or draw comics. and all the doctors were like "mrs. faust your son may never even make any comics." and his mom was all crying and shit.

his seven brothers and four sisters were all blessed with the ability to make comics. gregoir and stefan did their own take on superhero comics, geraldine did autobiographical indie comics about how she is some quirky girl who has slightly humorous, relatable experiences. juanita did spooky goth comics and manfred made comics about the adventures of an adorable little egg named "boopie".

all the while, george michael just sat there all retarded and unable to make comics.

then it was so emotional, one day when he picked up a pencil and walked over to this blank piece of paper. his siblings stopped making their own comics and went totally silent. they watched, transfixed with tears streaming down their faces. and 'chariots of fire' starts playing as he shakily draws a square on the page.

everybody leaned way forward as he placed the end of the pencil within the square and formed two adjoning oval shapes. did these represent the buttocks of some unnamed character?

george michael started to hyperventilate as his pencil touched the page once more. shakily scrawling a few more crude marks, before collapsing breathless and emotionally spent, into josef's arms.

his siblings gathered around the page and gasped as they saw he had writted a single word... "fart".

those who photograph him usually don't find him to be very likeable at all.