What I'm actually trying to do with these one panel cartoons.

The original panel was simple. A dog saying “Hey Tony, pull my finger” — Tony already being sniffed from behind by a third dog who had no idea what was about to arrive.

​It worked. The joke was there. But something was missing.

The problem with a joke that only has one moving part is that it asks the reader to do all the work. You see the setup, you fill in the gap, you smile. It’s fine. But fine isn’t really the point.

​The thing I keep coming back to with Basic Instincts is this: I’m not trying to tell you what happened. I’m trying to catch something at the exact moment before it does.

​A snapshot. A situation on the very edge of unfolding — the split second before everything goes sideways — when the characters involved are still completely unaware of what’s coming. That tension, that gap between what they know and what we know — that’s where the funny lives.

​So I went back to Tony. And I asked myself: who is that dog at the back, and what does he think he’s doing?

​That’s when Henry arrived.

​Henry is a connoisseur. A professional. A dog of extraordinary nasal gifts who has spent years developing his ability to read a situation entirely through smell. He is, at this precise moment, deeply absorbed in his work.

​”I’m getting hints of pellets infused with lamb and something, I can’t quite...” Henry is not about to stop. Henry is about to inhale harder.

​He has no idea.

​And that’s the story. Not just a punchline. A character with a purpose, a sense of dignity, and approximately three seconds left before both are comprehensively destroyed.

​That’s what I’m going for every week. One panel. One moment. Just before it all goes wrong.