Mark Trail, 3/19/12
RUN! IT’S NOT THE COPS!
Mary Worth, 3/19/12
On Santa Royale’s exclusive Strada Fellini, Nola chats with an imaginary friend on her invisible phone as her bag levitates nearby. A mannequin beckons.
Suddenly, disgraced executive Dan Smithers emerges from his spin on the world’s fastest downward spiral. Disheveled hair? Check! Patchy stubble? Belligerent scowl? Clenched fist? Check, check, and check!
But Dan hasn’t let himself go completely — look at that impeccably custom-tailored down-and-out suit he ordered a few weeks back:
“Ats-a too far back for a pocket, signore Smithers!”
“It’s for a hip flask, Tony — gotta be on my hip, or what’s the point?”
“OK, but the pocket she’s-a too short! All the booze she’s-a gonna fall out!”
“People expect to see the booze, Tony — this is Mary Worth!”
“OK, but all this work its-a gonna cost you!”
“That’s all right — I stole enough to cover it.”
Decisions, decisions — grunt out a labored comparison between peer and peristaltic pressure, or plop down the wry observation that Marvin’s beloved toy is a dump truck? Oops, I’ve disgusted myself. Crap!
You know, if Marvin’s retrograde toilet habits really bother his parents so much, they could just stop feeding him. No one would complain. They’ve brought this on themselves.
Hmpf. I wonder if there’s anything interesting going on in Marmaduke?
— Uncle Lumpy