Why would having a cat make you a better lesbian?

For chapter 2 - which can be read HERE - I drew the wrong version of Dredd again and refused to change it, so now it was a story about judge imposters whether Dave and Lee liked it or not.  For the record, they did not.
I think the plan in panel 1 was to draw some signs and/or advertisements on the Holding Post where arrested perps await pickup so that they performed some function other than just cluttering up the streets, but I ran afoul of limited space and resolution, though I suppose it's probably in keeping with Dredd's world that posts for cuffing citizens to are more common than street signs.
The 2nd and 3rd panels are where I tried to lead the eye from the bottom left to the top right, but it wasn't very successful and ended up too cluttered in panel 2 - the foreground character's hand is completely lost, yet also manages to obscure Dredd's costume, fluffing any kind of reveal - and too sparse in panel 3 thanks to my lazy use of solid blacks, but I refused to change it.

Chapter 3 - which can be read HERE - is a prime example of why most artists draw Dredd on some huge, throbbing machine penetrating the road ahead whether oncoming traffic wants it or not, but me, I misread "Lawmaster" as "lawnmower" and refused to change it, so even though he's supposed to be speeding along, it looks like he's just chilling and waiting out a hangover on a Sunday afternoon.  Note the continuing theme of buildings that look like sex toys, prompting me to think that it's good that I have comics drawing to fill my time and expend energy that most likely would have otherwise found an outlet in a schoolyard shooting spree.
I think this might have been when I stopped using Manga Studio's panel cutting tool because of the jaggy edges to angled lines and instead used its line tool with anti-aliasing.  In the third panel, the vehicles all look roughly the same shape despite going in different directions, and the grid I used to draw them clearly wasn't lined up very well as they look like they're all on different planes.  I think Dave might have asked me to redraw this, prompting a week-long passive-aggressive hissy fit on my part, as I believe that if people think you're an absolute nightmare to work with, they'll end up justifying all the trouble they had getting anything out of you in the first place and think you're better at your job than you actually are.  I call this the Val Kilmer method.

I really want to slap you right now but I wouldn't know how to stop

Well, that escalated quickly.
I rather expected tracking down comics printed on thirty year-old toilet paper would take a little longer than it has and that I would get bored after a week or two, but beginning with a couple of non-sequential copies I found tucked between old Warrior issues, an eBay trawl and selling off a small mountain of manga digests has yielded me an unbroken run of The Eagle from 27th March 1982 to 29th April 1989, so I expect I shall now read them while I track down the last hundred or so and then inevitably move onto collecting Tiger and - blimey - Roy of the Rovers because I am totes for real about being all over Johnny Cougar.
The pile I have trails off around the time the book was melded with some sort of Star Trek knock-off called Wildcat that took up a third of the pages, and there also seems to be an effort underway to remove creator credits from the strips - possibly because a talent drain to America was underway at the time and they didn't want to go advertising the names of Vanyo, Jose Ortiz, Eric Bradbury and Mike Dorey when they were more or less keeping the book afloat (NOTE TO SELF: insert contextually-relevant Robert Maxwell joke here).  I suppose it survived the MASK merger a few months beforehand, so it'll survive this one (for a year or two).
I am actually looking forward to reading it all, mainly as I once - to fill a blog post - reviewed a random single issue I found in a shoebox in what I felt to be an appropriate manner, but if anything, that issue was pretty tame.
Flicking through even the earliest po-faced photostrip issues reveals hilariously deadpan stuff like an episode of Doomlord where you don't even notice it's got to the very end of the story and there hasn't been a cliffhanger set up, so Doomlord is chilling out at dinner in his alien form - having hypnotically blocked everyone in the room from seeing him as he truly is - and a new person just walks into the room and sees him and goes "JESUS CHRIST!" and then the Next Week banner reads "Guess who's not coming back to dinner?" and I am sorry, but it is quite clear to me that I am not imagining it and they were clearly taking the piss, a conclusion I am helped towards by Alan Grant on many occasions admitting that he and John Wagner can't remember who wrote what in a period between the late 1970s and mid-80s because they did their writing in the pub and the official credit/paycheque was given to whoever of the two typed up the notes from their trying to trump each other's daft ideas for scenarios and cruelties to inflict on their characters.  Realistically that scenario should be a recipe for disaster, yet they more or less pissed out classics at this stage and I'm looking forward to reading them.