How do our cute little ones survive the Polar Vortex of ’14?  Two answers, courtesy of The Comics Curmudgeon’s  queek, source of Cuteness, Kawaii Commando — one either bundles up like Hans:

–or one jets off to a sunny locale, preferably the South Seas or Cabo, like Tu’i (is that a Polynesian name, come to think of it?):

…or maybe it was hives.

Anyway, the original Gasoline Alley has Walt photo-bombing a stained glass window.  It was only a small effort to make Walt one for the ages.

Yeah, this has to do with a Dick Tracy storyline…I just don’t know, or really care, what it is…

YAY!

…of course, if the populace is a bunch of dunces, what are the alternatives?

And Heathcliff is quickly becoming the patron saint (or at least patron cat) of Surrealism.  With a little help from Dunlap’s Ol’ Non-Stick Maple Syrup (“It’s Slippericious!“)

We’re just going to have to let you go, you little moron.

…or at least until Judge Pissypants starts in on his book critic…

…and what kind of Old English/Old Norse/Old Fuddy-Duddy storyteller would I be if I didn’t resolve this cliffhanger?

And then twerk tweak it a little more:

Still, all good things must come to an end…

Val and Co.’s voyage continues, with time for him to reflect…