Sunday highs and lows
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Heathcliff, 2/8/26
I gotta respect these guys for saying to hell with the NFL’s trademarks and hanging a giant banner that says “SUPER BOWL” from the ceiling of their living room to mark their Super Bowl party. Sure, it’s not strictly necessary, but it’s festive, and what if an outside viewer caught a glimpse of the room and had forgotten what day it was and needed a signifier in order to parse what exactly they were looking at? These revelers are true heroes. A living room “SUPER BOWL” sign, a dip cat, aliens and robots trying to stymie that dip cat for some reason, but not really trying very hard — all good, normal stuff.
Rhymes With Orange, 2/8/26
I kind of enjoy the way these people, who I assume just recently died, are casually chatting as they queue up to be tortured for all eternity. They spent their life weighted down by sin, so they aren’t surprised to be here or anything, though they are surprised to discover their sins are actually cute li’l anthropomorphized demons.
28 replies to “Sunday highs and lows”
Rhymes with Orange:
“What I like about this place is its devil-may-care attitude!”
Heathcliff:
Reading Heathcliff is kind of like watching a Bergman film. You think you’re sort of “getting” it while it’s unfolding and you’re experiencing it, but by the time it’s over, it’s clear to you that you didn’t really understand anything that transpired, or, even more importantly, why it did.
RWO: Open plan rooms? Business casual attire? Standing desks? The modern workplace really is hell. They take hotdesking very literally there.
Blondie-“No I just have a lot of emotional issues that I eat my feelings.”
RMMD-Remember folks the only symptom that you have appendicitis is throwing up a weird colored liquid and no excruciating pain whatsoever.
MW-Oh yes. Such salty language from Sunny.
Heathcliff-“The dip is here!” And he brought dip.
Slylock Fox-“Hey! I didn’t even watch half of these movies.”
Beetle Bailey: I don’t know which is more grody: the food Cookie’s cooking or his exposed hairy, diseased shoulders near the food he’s cooking. Seriously, what kind of skin fungus does he have going on?
Pluggers: Alternate caption: You’re a plugger if your only follower is your young grandson. Because he can smell the candy in your pocket.
Heathcliff: I guess Heathcliff must know that onions are toxic to cats, or he would have devoured that dip the moment he got his paws on it. Still, I guess he’s going to have to run another mile back to that empty void when the guys realize they also don’t have any potato chips.
Rhymes With Orange: The little demons are kind of like pets, but the big demon checking everyone in is more like a human adult with a menial job? So he’s basically a plugger. A plugger from hell (but I repeat myself).
Mary Worth: Hoo-boy, now the birds are learning catch-phrases by copying Joey on “Friends.” I guess it’s a good thing they aren’t tuning into early Ross episodes — after barely hanging onto his marriage, the last thing Ian wants to hear is “Waah, my wife left me!” all day long.
Heathcliff: When I started this strip, I thought that the bit DIP on the helmet was a derogatory name for Heathcliff himself. And when I finished it, I feel like it’s still possible.
RWO: Any Canadian of a certain age will remember the Hostess potato chips mascots the Munchies. Very disturbing to find out that they are actually tiny demons. Or at least one of them was? In any event, the theological ramifications of Satan’s involvement in the salted snack industry is pretty shocking.
RwO: “These are the demons I forged in life!” Now I see why Dickens went with chains.
Slylock Fox-Mr. Brownbear watched a lot of barely legal panda movies.
If she didn’t KNOW it was BYOD, how does it happen that she’s got three demons with her? Did they just show up when she got there? If so, then it’s *not* BYOD, right, because SHE didn’t BRING them! And if you’re supposed to bring your own, then presumably you could decline (or “forget”) to do so? Is that an option? Why doesn’t everyone take that option???
This doesn’t make any sense.
Rhymes with Orange:
“And it’s B.Y.O.D.E., too! — ‘Bring Your Own Deviled Eggs’ !”
The lady at the front of the queue has only two demons. Is that good or bad?
Rhymes with Orange:
I wonder if “Matt Cholodewitsch of Tucson, AZ” is like “Mr. Richard Feder from Fort Lee, New Jersey.”
Rhymes with Orange:
“I never expected it would be B.Y.O.D. — Bring Your Own Demons.”
“Hey, don’t get exorcised over it!”
@Twinkles the Elf: Maybe in the world of RWO the demons you bring to Hell are the ones you accumulate over a lifetime of sin?
RWO: Nothing like a little light hearted eternal damnation.
Farewel happy Fields
Where Joy for ever dwells: Hail horrours, hail
Infernal world, and thou profoundest Hell
Receive thy new Possessor: One who brings
A mind not to be chang’d by Place or Time.
And a bunch of little pink devils
That make one question the most profound.
Is it better to reign in Hell, then serve in Heav’n?
I was expecting something cooler.
More metal, like an Ozzy cover.
– John Milton, Paradise Lost
RMMD – Hey! A medical procedure being illustrated in RMMD! Too bad you don’t get to see it if your paper doesn’t carry the drop-panel!
RMMD: “Hey, Dad. How come I’m not hooked up to an IV to receive pain meds after surgery?”
“We still haven’t met your deductible. Here. Have a gummy.”
Get Fuzzy: Bucky’s sidewalk anti-dog display is missing the ‘Prove Me Wrong’ sign.
Wrecks Moregone:
Surgeon bursts in. “There’s been a terrible mix-up! We thought his name was Jimmy, left his appendix, and took out his spleen!”
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Wary Morth:
Next, Mary invites herself over so both Sunny and Rosie can learn to speak Meddle.
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Luann:
Inner Beauty is a mental 6 year old, part 1234567890.
JP: Isn’t Charlotte taking care of Neddy? Or have I missed some plot twist?
It takes a certain type of bravado to appear in public wearing a hat that says “DIP.” It’s almost like wearing an “I’m With Stupid” shirt with an arrow pointing straight up.
RMMD: Your SPLEEN, you get to keep. But the surgeon vented it, just as a precaution.
RMMD: Rex is a dead ringer for Basil St. John.
MW: Hopefully this is the end of this story, so let’s say it one last time for the road. All together now! Three, two, one… THAT’S NOT HOW PARROTS WORK!
Heathcliff is wearing an old-timey football helmet that doesn’t offer much in the way of protection. Tune in tomorrow when he’s diagnosed with CTE.
Garfield: Dustin’s father beat you to it-all those impressive looking law books on his office shelves are hollowed out snack containers. He has an emergency cherry pie stashed in his Black’s Law Dictionary.