By bats | November 29, 2008 - 10:11 pm

…a whole cadre of proctologists would have to be kept on retainer, he’s such a little a-hole.

The Black Friday edition of FC featured a non-funny of Billy telling a “friend” about his uncle.  The conversation was one-sided with Billy doing all of the talking.  Not content with a word balloon, however, Billy commandeers a sub-caption as well.  The result. No funny.  Sure, his little pal looks interested, but then, so does Daddy when he’s got his inch-thick Coke-bottle-bottom specs trained on his son — maybe he’s just trying to focus the sun’s rays on Billy, hoping he’ll combust (hey, it works on ants, doesn’t it?)

Blather away, Billy.  We know what everyone’s thinking…

[Note that even Billy’s friends’ heads aren’t as deformed as those of the Keane kids. Go on — measure!]

Talking squirrel from over at Comics Curmudgeon suggested that Billy and Sarah Morgan (who’s been getting a lot of panel time for the past few weeks) get together for a rousing match of obnoxious kidlets.  The premise is sound, but there are limits even for precocious little darlings:

Oh, and we mustn’t forget know-it-all Dolly.  Cripes, set up against the Keane Klan, Sarah comes off as all sweetness and light, hardly a whit of snottiness around her.  This is a scary, scary thought.

This entry was posted on Saturday, November 29th, 2008 at 10:11 PM and is filed under Three-Ring Freakshow, Trust Me, I'm a Doctor. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.

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