Rex Morgan, M.D., 3/5/10
Say, it’s been a while since we checked in with the refugee-ne’er-do-well wackiness in Rex Morgan, hasn’t it? Today, it seems that Sarah is learning a valuable lesson: that, when you’re in a position of power over someone in a desperate situation, they might give up their most treasured possessions “voluntarily,” just to buy themselves a few more days or hours of survival! This knowledge will come in handy for her future career as a brutal post-apocalyptic warlord.
Unfortunately, Toots is about to learn a similar important lesson as well: when you’re a refugee and not in a position to be economically productive, you only have so many things you can trade away for safety. When Sarah comes back for more — and she will — the pickings will get slimmer, and fast. “Say, little girl, do you want this stripey shirt? All the other kids will think you’re super cool if you’ve got a stripey shirt? Hmm, how about this half-empty paint can? No? Uh … dirty socks? I found some dirty socks over here…”
Barney Google and Snuffy Smith, 3/5/10
As part of my policy about being open and honest with you when normally unfunny comics make me laugh, I admit to being amused that Elviney is reading a publication called Tabloid Doin’s. However, the fact that Loweezy is perusing something with a much more conventional name confounded me a bit, and forces me to conclude that in fact Tabloid Doin’s is some kind of trade magazine detailing the hiring and firing of editors at various tabloid publications. “I don’t care what you say, Loweezy! Ain’t nobody in this latest crop o’ gossip maven ken hold a candle to Bonnie Fuller!”
Gil Thorp, 3/5/10
The Mudlark basketball team has once again failed to even make the playdowns, which I’m frankly glad about, as it allows me to focus more energy on Coach Thorp’s increasingly twee wardrobe. First a sweater vest, now some kind of cardigan, complete with a chunky piping? I love it, Gil!
Roz’s interlocutor is in fact a bird; so, while she shouldn’t be anxious about using her wings to travel through the air, being killed, dismembered, fried, and eaten is a legitimate concern.
I kind of love how enthusiastic this guy is about fresh-ground cheese. “Yes! It adds so much flavor! Look, look at this cheese I’m pointing to, everyone! Oh my God, it completely transforms the dish! Keep adding more! Pile on the cheese! Don’t ever stop!”
You’re a plugger if the terrifying secret government lab that created the man-animal abomination that you are saved money by grafting variously sized torsos onto identical sets of cloned legs.