Snark It Up, FuzzBall!

In this summer of the 30th Olympiad, ship sinkings, bighorn sheep killings, free trips to San Diego and emo ballet performances, Sam Driver and Avery Blackstone have kind of been lost in the mix.  They’ve been fly fishing and wining and dining with Bea O’Boobs, and Avery’s been trying to sweet-talk Ms. O’Boobs into opening the lodge for other fishermen, but way down deep, there’s more.  Oh, so much more!

And damned if Sam is completely clueless.  I’m just a little frightened by Avery’s impersonation of a wall-eyed pike.

Particularly when it’s with the titular character (heh…she said “tit”) of a comic strip:

but sometimes pretty amusing with two never-to-be-seen-when-this-story-is -over characters:

…or maybe a “isn’t this a much better strip this way?”…

I wouldn’t worry too much about that, Bubba…

NOW you’re feeling a little concerned about Rusty’s welfare.

I like to think of Rex Morgan as a guy who bumbles through life, often the unwitting straight man, and definitely the guy who graduated #81 in his medical school class of eighty.

Then again, a lot of other people think of him as a smug, arrogant S.O.B. (you know, a doctor).  And sometimes, the word balloons just prove them right.  So here we are, still wondering how his old patient Foster died.  Questions were asked, accusations made, dead bodies (well, one dead body) lying all over the place, and no sign of Dr. Andy Reed, aka, COUNT MORGU, Coroner and VAMPIRE!

Yeah, Rex, I guess you are a dick…

…and the things you’ll inhale!

Like that old short story, another scintillating take, “The Killers or the Grizzly?”.

Or maybe “The Disembodied Head or the Clumsy Fat Hollywood Agent?”.

MEANWHILE–

“Hi, I’m filthy-rich Sam Driver, and I don’t have a GPS  or a Trip-tik or a clue in general on getting from Point A to Point B. But I’m RICH!”