Snark It Up, FuzzBall!

Hey,  gang! Dr. Drew Cory couldn’t make it back to Santa Royale for his idiot sister’s wedding, but here he is for no particular reason! Can trying to woo the recently-Internet-recovered-and-probably-still-fragile Dawn Weston be far behind?

After six weeks or so of  “Dawn:  Portrait of an Internet Addict,” which shamelessly cut Mary out of the action (such as it was), here’s something I can live with (thanks to CC’s Swordsmith for the inspiration):

Hey, let’s try a second episode:

Shall we go for the hat trick?

I have no idea where I’m going, but this handbasket is surprisingly comfortable!

Then again, I don’t know if I can keep up this (lack of) furious pace.  With Wilbur droning on about reconnecting with Dan, and the Phantom and the Python playing chicken with each other…

And with the return of Dr. Drew to the States, you just know this story-arc is over.

But it’s not over ’til the fat man puts on his Speed-o.  Yes, it’s time for a Charterstone Pool Party!

(well, or creepy, or whatever.  This had to be one of the bottom-of-the-barrel Mary Worth plots in recent history.)

I rarely mash anything with Dick Tracy (probably because I don’t read Dick Tracy on a regular basis).  As the current writer and artist step down into well-earned retirement, it seems some of their creations have “abandoned ship,” so to speak, to other strips.

And it doesn’t stop with Mark Trail!  Over in Santa Royale, Dawn Weston’s mirror (and/or mind) is playing tricks with her…looking in the mirror shows nothing like a vague reflection — I mean, the cartoonist used to at least pretend to render a reasonable reflected image.

Oh, I said “reasonable.”  Dopey me!  Carry on.

A few days ago, there was much confusion and consternation in Santa Royale, as folks wondered what the deuce had happened to Wilbur Weston’s hamburger as he lunched with his lady-friend Iris.  Some thought the meat had gone bad, some thought the “secret sauce” (hell, if the sauce were that shade of green, I’d keep it a secret, too).  I merely thought Wilbur had ordered a burger with guacamole, but that might be a little too “ethnic” for the denizens of Charterstone, unless he and Iris had cautiously ventured into “the Valley,” where Santa Royale’s minorities are contained.

But then, like a bolt from the blue, the mystery was solved!

Yeah, Dennis, it’s downhill from birth…

…so, of course, you KNOW I had to do it!

Yay! Star Wars!

(And yet it’s not as though Dawn is the first to wear the brass bikini o’ Hutt lust:   http://snarkitupfuzzball.nexiliscom.com/?p=3720 )

I thought I was all inspired with a Mark Trail/Mary Worth mashup…and I just seized up.  I think the cold weather (17 F as the low — in TUCSON! — the past two mornings) have frostbitten my snark.

Feel free to have at this.  Maybe I’ll choose a few good ‘uns and insert them — we can be the new Moy and Giella/Nolan and Wilson/Batiuik and Johnston of the snark pages!

Great Googly Moogly! Folks have stepped up to the challenge!  Faithful reader (yay!) Rimpy has a rather horror genre feel to it:

Ned Ryerson offers one that even Tobey Cameron can puzzle out:

Red Greenback always knows what to say. Too bad Mary doesn’t (not that it stops her, mind you):

And Écureuil Écumant’s offering harkens back to a Sunday Mark Trail, in which Mark extols the economic and commercial value of ganja hemp:

Really, I don’t know what to expect from HAMMY THE SQUIRREL!, but I have to admit that this doesn’t surprise me (and it makes me laugh, too):

THANKS to all the folks who helped Mark, Mary and Jeff have their say!

…we hope and pray that the Great Santa Royale Electronic Reading Device of ’11 sets with it.

No, really and truly this time: