Whew. I had to play massive catch-up and post today.
I hope you think it was worth it and are enjoying it all.
Just remember, if you’re not careful, you might learn something!
…that I either have to much time on my hands OR that I spend more time mashing this strip than it takes the guys who get paid for it to scrawl something out (or sift through their old strips and get paid for reruns)…
Gee whiz. It’s getting to be that while Lisa Moore is the Only Woman on Earth Who Ever Had Breast Cancer, Mayor Stu is in serious contention for the Only Man on Earth Who Ever Had Prostate Cancer.
I’m sure Rex would like to move on. I think. Maybe.
Okay. Maybe not.
As the Comics Curmudgeon Josh F. mentioned today, could there be anything more cool than Mark Trail tarzaning his way over a razor-wire chainlink fence? Yes! Gubernatorial hopeful Frank Johnson KICKING his stepdaughter’s pet fawn, in front of God and everyone! (Even more important, a Senator!)
I’m thinking the Fist o’ Justice is going to get a workout, but just in case it doesn’t…
No matter what happens next, Frank, you are dead. D-E-A-D.
Politically, maritally, you name it, you’re a decomposing smudge on it.
UPDATE: 22 October 2010 — a day that will live in the annals of Mark Trail making no sens whatsoever (“I maybe not get another chance to do this!” Huh?). But not that is really matters.
I <3 you, Mark Trail!
First it was Billy sitting at the kitchen table, bitching and moaning about his homework.
Alex, from Dean’s Comic Booth, improved the lame concept immeasurably helped it along:
Me? I just went along for the mashin’ good ride! Thanks for the opportunity, Alex!
I am so tired of Les Moore’s sad sack existence. The only reason I figure that he hasn’t been run out of Westview on a rail is that his morose personality is a welcome distraction from Funky’s assholery. (Other people in Westview? Or even in the Winkerbean/Moore circle of “friends”? HAH! Sure you jest!)
Little Rustina has quickly determined that Stepfather’s cigar-chomping, bourbon-swilling fat-cat friends are going to shoot those beautiful animals! In a move that will deep-six Frank’s political career until 2057 or so, she springs into action!
Go, Rustina! Go!
And the usual blather that is a hallmark of any political campaign:
Kit Walker, aka The Phantom, aka “Ghost Who Does a Half-Assed Job,” manages to find his way into a high-security prison where his wife may be held captive. He checks every. damned. cell. except for the one she’s in, and then decides his quest is hopeless and Diana really is dead.
No, Kit. If Diana manages to escape, no thanks to you, you’re going to be the one who’s dead. So very, very dead…
HOLD THE PRESSES! ALERT THE MEDIA!
I might’ve been wrong about about Kit!
No, not really. It’s just that Aunt May might as well just join a traveling circus — she’s looking more and more decrepit with each passing Spiderman storyline, so she might as well pad her Social Security check by hiring herself out as “Wife of the Cryptkeeper.” Yeesh!
…make Potato-Ade.
And when life gives you two comic strips with chain-link fence and razor wire, do a mashup!
This comes so close to making no sense, but I love it.
Anyway, here’s a genuine panel from the 16 October 2010 Mark Trail:
This is so, so, SO good. Thank you, Mr. Elrod.