"Peter, for the third time today, why did you buy a giant table meant for architects?" Lois asked, her hands on her hips as she stared at the massive wooden surface.
The smell of burnt toast drifted through the Griffin household, heavily anchored by Peter’s latest and most questionable financial endeavor. He had cleared out the living room furniture to make space for a massive, commercial-grade drafting table that now dominated the room, leaving Lois to balance the laundry basket on the edge of the couch. I Griffin 17x11
"Oh, incredibly jealous," Stewie deadpanned, finally looking up. "In fact, I’m so inspired by your artistic vision that I’ve decided to use your precious 17x11 canvas for something actually useful." "Peter, for the third time today, why did
"I’m telling you, Stewie, this is the perfect format for my graphic novel," Brian insisted, tapping his paws together. "The 17x11 dimensions allow for a sweeping, cinematic flow that regular comic books simply cannot achieve. It speaks to the vast, existential emptiness of the modern dog." It speaks to the vast, existential emptiness of
Lois sighed heavily, stepping over a stray blueprint of a giant laser that had floated down from the upstairs hallway. "I'm calling the trash company, Peter. From now on, we are strictly an 8.5x11 family."