Action, not only in Rex Morgan, but in Judge Parker, too! I wasn’t too thrilled at the prospect of having to do a mashup of Mary Worth being strip-searched at the airport…
Let’s see, Rex…wowee! Things are definitely developing! Lenore’s mastery of her ship and years of sailing prowess are coming to the forefront, and you better be ready to deliver!
Well, we have seen Rex in nothing more than a towel, but that’s a different topic entirely.
Eventually, even Rex manages to get the **hang** of things…
Oh. And why the hell can’t the color-monkey be consistent from Saturday to Monday as far as Rex’s shirt and Lenore’s windbreaker are concerned?!?
Apparently, the fellow who is the illustrator for Rex Morgan has had a long, incredibly cool history of drawing for Marvel comics — lots of superheroes and the like — in addition to doing a stint for the Sunday Phantom and now, Rex Morgan. Not that his dailies are bad, but on occasion, a characterization is captured with vitality and charm.
Here’s a panel from the 11 October 2008 Rex Morgan, with the two old farts Lenore and Tweaks railing at each other like teenagers (kind of like Amos and Edda in 9 Chickweed Lane), while Rex looks on, just a little less than mortified.
Beautiful drawing — the hand, the expression, everything.
That being said, I have to mess with it a little.
And then, I have to mess with it a lot. But FABULOUS work, Mr. Nolan! I wish I could’ve bid on some of your panels for the Turkey Shoot Regatta.
I’ve loved this “Coroner’s Bureau” sign ever since Andy Frazer had it on his flickr site (I think it’s in Oakland CA) — I like the idea of a 24/7 morgue, kind of like an open-all-night liquor store.
I had Rex and Andy photoshopped in front of it for months, wondering what I could do with it. Oh, hoorah…I’ve found a use at last!
Tinkering around with animation again (sigh). I’m sure the good folks at the Yacht Club don’t have to stoop to bare-chested, glitzy shenanigans to assure a good turn-out.
Yes, it seems that the Morganville Hospice Regatta will indeed coincide with the Turkey Shoot Regatta (and I think this is pretty darned cool — if I lived in the area, I’d be out there, even though I have no idea what one does at a Regatta)!
Anyway, it looks like it’s up to Rex (God help us) to get all the ducks in a row, sailors on their boats, panties in a twist…you know, ship-shape! Considering there’s already a well-known Captain Morgan, I guess I’ll just nominate Rex as Admiral Morgan!
The original strip, following June and Rex’s explanation of all the wonderful things hospice does, starts with an absolutely dour-looking family, as if Abby the Wonder Dog had fallen into the river and drown or something. So much for good feelings generated by charitable works…
Still, you work with what you’ve got, right?
Yes, possibly even more exciting than “It’s Martini Time!”, as sung by the Rev. Horton Heat. Of course, the excitement is tempered by a sensible breakfast and talk around the kitchen table.
And then some more talk…
…I was shocked! to discover that after a week of beating around the bush (or the corpse), that Alan, the resident drug addict in Apartment 3-G, really had been shot by a fellow drug addict. Silly me, I thought there might be some weird, intriguing twist, and that Alan was still alive — and then I remembered that this was Apartment 3-G.
Well, so shocked was I with the discovery at the morgue that I completely missed the fact that Dr. Andy Reed (aka, Count Morgu) himself was doing the autopsy! Thanks to CC’s Mooncattie for pointing this out. I will endeavor to be more astute in the future.
Oh, I wrote a song, too. Okay, they’re just lyrics. And I swiped the music from Oklahoma.
Pore Alan’s dead
Our fav’rite junkie’s dead
All gather round the cold slab now and cry
He’s been pumped full of lead
It’s no wonder that he’s dead
He doesn’t have to worry ’bout getting high.
Pore Alan’s dead
Pore junkie-boy’s dead
He’s lookin’ oh so holey and inert (and inert)
We’ve got to find a plan
We can spring upon LuAnn
So she’ll know he’s just a little more than dirt.
Pore Alan’s dead
The bullet missed his head
He’s lookin’ not so tidy, but still nice
He won’t paint anymore
Not that he did much of that before
But what we’ve got should sky-rocket in price.
