Snark It Up, FuzzBall!

You finally make it home, only to discover that your wife thinks you’re dead and has since remarried.  And then she comes over and steals your Glock!

At least you have your sax and the knowledge that you’re not alone — a lot of your associates in ComicsTown have crappy lives, too.

(Oh, yeah, Wally — trombones are not saxophones.  They are not sexy.  They will never be sexy.  Well, a “Rusty Trombone” might be an exception to the rule, but I’m not sure about that.)

Yeah, that’s about it.

It took an explosion from The Phantom to do it, but finally! Some action at Casa de Morgan!

…like a dodo.  Or an ostrich.  Or a kiwi.  Or an emu.  Or a rhea. Or a giant moa.

I used to be a wee bit embarrassed by having Dr. Ari act in such a randy manner, but considering the current story-line, with him consorting with a boozy, pill-popping married woman, perhaps I’m vindicated after all.

I also have to admit that I like the dialog in A3G.  There are some times when it is very “real,” less sensationalistic than RMMD or JP, and far less stilted than MW or MT (but what would MT be without that?).

That doesn’t stop me, though…

(Yes, I will snark on real peoples’ real conversations. You have been warned.)

In the meantime, Tommie and Ari’s conversation devolves…

Yes, indeed, Kurt has disappeared.  It took him two weeks to do it (or two weeks for Wilbur and Dawn to realize he was gone…).

…or at least a resolution to this storyline.  Is Kurt Wilbur’s son (it doesn’t seem likely)?  Who will spill the beans — Dawn, Kurt himself, or Acme Paternity Co.?

And most important — what will the ultimate fallout be?

Wilbur and Kurt’s frolicking and gallivanting and gamboling cannot be contained in a single panel! on a single day!

Fortunately,  neither can the snark:

CC’s bourbon babe, unbuckled valiantly attempts to rescue the shenanigans by making it into a musical (good luck with that!):

Still, I am moved to compose…

You are “offspring” going on “boyfriend”
Here is another verse
Mary’s a loser, Aldo’s a boozer
At Charterstone you could do much worse!
You are “offspring” going on “boyfriend”
You’ve met poor, dowdy Dawn
Cameron’s got beer-gut, Toby’s a crackpot
Forget ‘em and climb right on!

Ew.

Cherry Trail playing coyly with a telephone cord while dialing 1-900-GOT-MARK.

June Morgan looking imperious (and down her nose, at the same time).

Mary Worth making a return to her own strip. Wilbur and Kurt.

WTF?

Seriously.  WTF? True, this has been a gold-mine for snark fodder, and for sick and twisted mash-ups.

Exhibit A:

Exhibit B:

Whew.  Thank heavens weeks like this don’t come around every, uh, week.

In the real Rex Morgan universe, Brook’s friend Skateboy Toots is still hiding out in the basement.  June insists on having a come-to-Jesus (or, come-to-June –yeah, they’re both about the same thing) talk with Brook.  And, of course, Rex listens intently.  Not necessarily comprehensively, though:

Since we’re apparently going to let Toots stay in the basement and subsist on dog kibble and dryer lint, June continues to grill Brook:

Even The Comics Curmudgeon himself, Josh, commented on June’s dominatrix-like appearance!  Truly, the panel is destined for, um…destiny: