Inside Scoop: Unveiling a Lost Scene From 'Chasing Amy' — Join the Hunt for the Secret Quesada/Palmiotti Cut!

Special San Diego Comic-Con Edition 100% guaranteed to Get Me Disinvited Next Year.

After upstaging him in this scene, all these years later, things are still awkward between Ben and I

Drawing the Line Somewhere Live at San Diego Comic-Con!

This Saturday, at San Diego Comic-Con, in room 6DE, from 1:45-2:45 pm PT. I’ll be doing my very first Drawing The Line Somewhere panel. It’s the panel equivalent of a near-mint first-edition collector’s item, so if you’re at the show, stop by.

Also, following my panel is my first Drawing The Line Somewhere signing from 3:14- 4:15 PT in signing area AA10. It will be my only signing at the con.

If I don’t see you there, you can also find me…

On Friday, I’ll be at the Marvel Fanfare panel in room 6DE from 4:15-5:15 pm PT.

On Sunday, I have two panels, The Best and Worst of Making Comics, from 11:00 am- 12:00 pm PT in room 25ABC, and Cover Story, from 2:00-3:00 pm in 7AB.

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Whatnot! Why not?

Honestly, I barely know what Whatnot is, but my agent tells me it’s all the rage. If you’re a Whatnoter, I’ll be doing whatever it is people do on Whatnot, streaming live TODAY from the Whatnot Hero House starting at 11:00 am PT/2:00 pm ET.

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You Can’t Say I Didn’t Warn You

I’m going to do my best to send updates from the con, so don’t be surprised if you see a few extra micro newsletters headed your way.

One of the many things I love about this newsletter, especially at this stage of my career, is chatting with you unfiltered without worrying about the sensitivities of an employer or team of employees counting on me not to say anything stupid. So, in that spirit of transparency, here’s one thing you can be sure of: if there’s ever more than a week between newsletters, it’s not because I don’t love you. It’s because I’m slammed with work, deadlines are looming, and in this case, a big convention is compressing it all.

Also, unlike those supposed “real” writers like Zdarsky, Hickman, Duggan, and especially Bendis, I don’t just hack this thing out or hand it over to my AI assistant. I carefully craft every word and curate this newsletter just for you. It takes time to compose Substack’s first and, I suspect, only “Artisan Newsletter” and provide you with the finest literary experiences.

So Let Me Tell You the Story of the Guy Eating the Monkey’s Ass.

But before I do, I want you to remember the look on your face after you read that last sentence.

I just got into San Diego Comicon yesterday. It’s been several years since I’ve been back, but the wonderful folks running the show were kind enough to invite me as a "Special Guest." I wasn’t expecting to feel this way, but looking out my hotel window, I’m flooded with memories of past cons, in particular my first as a professional penciler in 1991, which was the same year the show moved into the brand-new convention center, and was well on the way to becoming the biggest con on the planet.

It’s also the year I showed up at a party, and the only reason I stayed was because I was hungry, and they had free food. Standing in the buffet line for a cheeseburger, I started chatting with the guy behind me. Jimmy Palmiotti was a fellow New Yorker whose stomach was growling as loudly as mine. We joked about the truth to the starving artist myth (it’s no myth) and hit it off immediately. While I can’t speak for Jimmy, for me, it was as if I had known him my whole life, and soon after, we became the closest of friends and then later creative and business partners. As an only child, he was the brother I never had.

Jimmy and I have had some crazy adventures since that meeting in San Diego. We worked on several big projects together. We started our own independent company, Event Comics, and later created the Marvel Knights imprint. We dreamed big, party hard, and had a blast all along the way. We even had our own nomenclature (old Event Comics message boards fans can attest to this) and running gags. Yes, we were insanely juvenile at times, as guys our age tended to be, and I don’t think either of us regrets a moment of it.

One such crazy adventure was when Kevin Smith asked us if we’d like to have a cameo in his next movie, Chasing Amy, which, ironically, was about a penciler and inker who were best friends. We would be playing ourselves, signing autographs in a scene that took place at a comic convention.

If you’ve seen the movie, you’ll know the scene I’m talking about; if you haven’t, this doesn’t spoil much.

There’s a moment at the end where Ben Affleck and Jason Lee’s characters, Holden and Banky, give each other a bittersweet thumbs up. On that day, the shot itself was a long “oner” that weaved up and down the rows of this faux comic con that ended with Jimmy and I in frame regarding a fan while Ben stood behind us and gave the thumbs up to camera. After what seemed like endless takes, something wasn’t sitting quite right with Kevin, so he made his way to our table to give us some direction.

“Hey, can you guys say a few lines like you’re having a conversation before the fan asks you to sign their book?”

“What do you want us to say?”

“I don’t know, make it up. Ad lib.”

“Ad lib?” 

“Yeah. Just make it funny.”

Remember When I Said We Had Our Juvenile Moments?

Jimmy and I used to have this gag that went something like this. If we were at a party or chatting at a booth in a bar and knew someone was coming over to talk to us, an old friend, the president of a major publisher, whomever, it literally did not matter, we would jump into the middle of this very awkward fake conversation that this person “accidentally” interrupted but overheard. Then, we’d pretend as if nothing had happened and see the same look on their face that you had at the beginning of this story.

So, sensing that Kevin was handing us our big break, I turned to Jimmy; we were both thinking the same thing.

“ACTION!” 

I was jittery with anticipation watching the camera slowly weave toward us. Here it comes; this is our big moment. We’re going to be movie stars! Or, at the very least, we can join SAG! The camera stopped in front of us as I gestured with my hand with my thumb, pointer, and middle fingers clamped together into an “O” shape while Jimmy calmly signed the books in front of him.

“So this dude was eating that monkey’s ass like you’d think it was the last monkey on earth.”

“I hear it taste like chicken… covered in monkey s#!t.”

“CUT!”

The next thing I remember is seeing Kevin making a beeline for us. This could not be good.

“What did you say?”

“I said that the dude was eating the monkey’s ass like it was the last monkey on earth, and Jimmy said--”

“Never mind, I know what you said. That was great. Can you repeat it?”

So, we did. Over and over again. This acting thing is hard.

After months of waiting, Chasing Amy opened in April 1997. At the premiere, I anxiously waited for our big scene in the end. There it was, but wait! What? Where’s our moment of greatness?

Afterward, I asked Kevin what happened, was our performance that bad? Why was our line cut? He smiled and winked at me before saying, “Dude, no one ad-libs in my movies.”

A Call to Action!

I’ve often wondered what happened to that footage, and as I write this and look at my subscriber count, I think you might be able to help me find out.

So today, I’d like to ask you a favor. Reach out to Kevin on his social platforms and ask him, no, DEMAND that he release the “Chasing Amy Quesada/Palmiotti Monkey’s Ass Cut.”

Hey, it worked for Zack Snyder.

Thanks for reading.

You’re Amazing!

JQ

Footnote

1- For the record, like the word “artisan,” outside of putting together an exhibition, can we please stop with the word “curate.” Let’s add “choice cut” to that list as well.

2- The Chasing Amy convention scene was a two-day shoot in the Kingsley Ballroom at the Berkeley Oceanfront Hotel in Asbury Park. Early in March of this year, twenty-seven years later, my short film FLY was selected by the Garden State Film Festival and screened in that same room. How cool is that?