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Marty Moon, ace reporter

Gil Thorp, 12/3/07

“Yeah, we could probably test it at Tilden … by why not just keep failing spectacularly with the offense that was terrible before we stopped practicing it? Since we already have no chance to make the playdowns, there’s no point in having fun or trying hard in any of our remaining games. A healthy diet of humiliation will have our boys all the more eager to pull their half-assed Wing T trickery against Valley Tech!”

Meanwhile… Marty Moon suddenly realizes the free press’s obligation to challenge the Putinesque dictatorship of Coach Thorp’s athletic administration. Unfortunately, he’s eight weeks behind teenaged dim bulbs Howard and Tony in mining the Google for useful anti-Gil ammunition. Presumably old-school radio man Marty usually avoids the Web and has been waiting for this whole “Internet” fad to blow over, but recently discovered that you can buy booze there.

Apartment 3-G, 12/3/07

Dizziness … giddiness … elevated heart rate … shortness of breath … Nurse Thompson carefully reviewed the symptoms in her mind, thinking back to her medical training to try to come up with a correct diagnosis. Could it have been the one syndrome that wasn’t in her dusty textbooks: sexual arousal? Or maybe it was an asthma attack. Yes, that seemed more likely.

Funky Winkerbean, 12/3/07

That right there, if I’m guessing correctly, is Mopey Pete, erstwhile persecuted high school dork and comics artist, spurned by best friend Darrin when the latter started dating a hot girl. According to Funkywinkerbean.com, post-time-jump Pete is now a successful writer for Marvel Comics. For what purpose has he returned to WinkerLand? I imagine that he’s breathing in the heady smell of Montoni’s pizza before he walks into the restaurant and starts unloading ammunition into everyone who ever wronged him.

For Better Or For Worse, 12/3/07

“You sit over there, under daddy’s whore picture. That’s the whore chair. For whores like you.”

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