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Gil Thorp, 2/12/07

Sometimes, you just need to go with your strengths. Since everyone in Gil Thorp already looks like the shuffling, grey-skinned undead, it’s perfectly logical that they start bleeding profusely from the head while looking vaguely uneasy. Panel one reminds of me of the horrifying scene in the second Star Trek movie when that eel thing crawled out of Chekov’s ear, and it would probably be just as traumatizing if it were drawn at all realistically.

Mark Trail, 2/12/07

Sweet Jesus, Cherry has never looked scarier than she has in panel two. Note the blue hair combed forward to mask her freakish, bulbous forehead. She’s just an inch or so of foundation away from looking like Tammy Faye Baker.

Since Dan seems to have learned everything about fishing from magazine articles, I’m really looking forward to his encounter with the viscera-stained reality. “Hey, what are you doing to that fish? Wait, did you just use ‘gut’ as a verb? AAAHHHHH!”

Apartment 3-G, 2/12/07

When this weekend began (about three and a half weeks ago) I expressed my suspicions about Margo’s schedule. Now I’m even more dubious that a party planner would have a schedule that has her arriving home from Long Island early Monday morning, unless “party planner” is code for “prostitute” and “Long Island” is code for “the Port Authority bus terminal.”

In panel three, Tommie is going to hold that smug facial expression as long as she can, but eventually she will have to admit that her big weekend involved making out with a pencil-mustachioed theater impresario who forgot her name, and then giving her phone number to a shy guy she didn’t like. And then Margo will laugh and laugh and laugh.

For Better Or For Worse, 2/12/07

I am all in favor of harassing and abusing Michael Patterson by any means available. I’m not sure that I would have started out by shouting things at the top of my lungs directly into his face, but I’m willing to wait and see where Weed’s going with this.