Snark It Up, FuzzBall!

Mark Trail’s thrilling Reefer Madness tale got all kind of done with him whacking one bad guy (bald) in the head with a stick while Andy mauled the other bad guy (longish hair, circa 1970s).  No facial hair, no Fist of Justice, I guess.

So it wasn’t as exciting as we all might’ve been hoping, but there’s nothing quite like a father-mutant chat on the old porch as the sun sets in Lost Forest…because we all know that tomorrow will bring a new and exhilarating adventure pancakes!

But here’s some late-breaking news!  Never let it be said that Mark is not a Man of His Word (okay, not contracted words, but still, a Man of His Word!):

Or is the passenger seated next to Mary getting a little frisky?  The road to Meddle-Con takes to the skies…

…and then to the streets of New York!

And all of this would’ve been SO much better had Mary channeled her favorite femme fatale from the matinee, Miss Bette Davis…

In which bats :[ finds an errant “Love is…”, two out of three color panels (although all three are in color), and the return of Scoopy, with possibly fatal results!

Yikes…Cherry wasn’t kidding! Now I’m really worried!

Okay, just the drugs part.  And poor old Ranger Tom Martin can’t even catch a break there…

No, I’m serious!

…and everyone in Lost Forest knows it.

Yes, the squirrel’s little beady eyes are red-rimmed.  I swear!

Only You can prevent Munchy Attacks!

But sometimes, even the best intentions are subverted…

…even if he is a mutant or a space alien or something.

Mars may be in retrograde, but sometimes the Sunday comics align just like the planets.

Enough Mark Trail Bingo! It’s time to check up on Butch, the old blind hunting dog!  He’s gone wandering (since his master’s jacket got stolen), and now he’s trying like crazy mad to find his way home, or something like that.  I’m not too sure anymore — then again, I’m not an old blind hunting dog.  Carry on, Butch!