It is time to return to the morally black-and-white world of Apartment 3-G, where drug-using men are Very Bad People, drug-using women have symbolically black hair and are probably prostitutes, and drug-using bald guys go completely mad and shoot the aforementioned drug-using men when the one drug dealer in all of New York isn't around to provide "dope" to the masses. This particular storyline is telling us that If You Use Drugs, You Will Die Violently And, More Importantly, Without Ever Having Your Fix. What would we do without you, Apartment 3G? I know that I was planning to score some "dope" tomorrow from the bright red dude with horns who stands on the corner in a fug of brimstone and sells the stuff. You have persuaded me to abandon my evil ways.
In its original format, Apartment 3-G does not come with glosses. It probably should. The possibilities for moral commentary are endless here. If this comic had been around in the Middle Ages, it would have been created by a wild-eyed monk who hadn't left his cell since the age of twelve but had heard a lot of people talking about the terrible things that went on in the world outside. Every character would have represented a different sin or virtue. The monk would have prayed solemnly over each panel.
However, he would secretly have identified with Margo, who I'm pretty sure has no soul. That would have said a lot about him.
P.S.: I quite enjoyed translating "telephone"; I took the Greek bits of the word and replaced them with relatively equivalent English bits. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must go answer the fersoun.