Mark Trail, 11/3/11
As if we needed more evidence, today we see who’s really in charge here in McQueen Valley. Supposed lawman Mountie McQueen gets all twitchy and gun-happy at the slightest hint of trouble. Mother McQueen, however, just casually and subtly lets everyone know who’s in charge and who could be savagely ripped to shreds by a bear at any moment. “Yes, I rescued this beast as a cub from a pack of bloodthirsty predators, and now it is devoted to me, and only me. Does his presence make you … uncomfortable? Here, let me tie this flimsy muzzle around his snout. I can take it off just as easily as I put it on! And of course his claws remain at the ready. Now, was one of you saying something about leaving this valley or attempting to contact the outside world?”
It used to be that you could say, “Crankshaft may be a miserable, hateful human being who will soon die alone and unloved, as he deserves, and occasionally we’re forced to contemplate the ugly and pathetic libidinous impulses that lurk below his crusty, misanthropic surface, but at least we’re never forced to contemplate the volume and texture of his bowel movements.” Used to be.
Funky Winkerbean, 11/3/11
Meanwhile, a couple of depressives playing video games in a comic book store are trying to compare themselves to badasses who practiced dark magic.