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6 Chix, 4/28/15

Wait, what’s the difference between the “professional” and the mom here? They look the same! Shouldn’t the rejected mom be the sad one? Or is that the mom way over on the end of the branch? Maybe the mom is the happy drunk, and the sad one at the end of the branch is an editor? Maybe these guys wandered in from Shoe, and they’re all sad, drunk editors? I bet that’s it.

Apartment 3-G, 4/28/15

Oh look, it’s fake psychic Diane, here played by beloved roommate figure Tommie Thompson. Gabby — Gabriella — is Margo’s birthmom and a sometime fake psychic herself, all dressed up to receive her surprise midnight visitor. In panel two, she speaks for us all.

And I know I speak for us all when I say, “WILL YOU PEOPLE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD STAND STILL?!!”

Crock, 4/28/15

The long-awaited Crock/Pluggers crossover. You thirsty, Andy Bear? Just wait.

Faithful readers! I’m outta here — Josh returns tomorrow, rested, refreshed, and ready. Thanks for a fun week-and-some; see you next time!

— Uncle Lumpy

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Apartment 3-G, 4/20/15

I won’t try to update you on recent goings-on in Apartment 3-G, because, well, let’s just say Josh’s theory that the strip has become a livestream of Margo’s psychotic delusions seems as good as any. This new guy/hallucination is either some jerk who’s been pranking Margo on the streets for a few months, or one of her string of unfortunate lovers stretching back to the Kennedy administration, and there is NO WAY I’m implying that those two are mutually exclusive. Maybe in Margo’s fevered imagination President Kennedy himself has come back from the dead to prank her on the streets, I wouldn’t rule it out. Quite the card, that Jack — and lookin’ pretty sharp for a man of 97.

Gasoline Alley, 4/20/15

Like everybody, I just knew when a custodian named “Gus Todian” showed up, he would pepper Mrs. “Trace Me” Hatley and the rest of us with pointless and annoying wordplay. But “vegetablearian” had me stumped until I realized it was an attempt to force “veterinarian” in there, as though veterinarians, or for that matter midwives, help out after insects hatch. From their eggs. Just shut up and go get Jetpack the wetvac, Gus — slurp up those nymphs mighty quick.

Judge Parker, 4/20/15

Long, long ago — decades before his New Year’s Day 2000 wedding to Abbey Spencer — Sam was the badass in this strip. He was a detective, then, doing the tough, messy work stuffy neither Judge Alan nor that effete smartass Randy had the stones or the competence to do themselves. But consigliere or not, it’s the Parkers’ name on the strip, and Sam will never be family.

Now, while Alan and Randy jet off to jungle compounds to quaff Cristal with willowy assassins and international arms merchants, Sam squats in this washed-out squirrel-infested trailer park, nursing his diminishing stores of supermarket plonk, ignoring his shrieking, entitled daughter, and picking fights with the likes of Dalton here and his meaty comrades. I wouldn’t go pointing that finger, Dalton — our boy’s having a very bad day.

–Uncle Lumpy

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Apartment 3-G, 4/4/15

Oh, look, Margo is back with her old friend Thelma! You remember Thelma, of course, as the waitress at Margo’s favorite diner, which is actually outside on the sidewalk or maybe inside some apartment where the decor hasn’t been updated in fifty years, who can even tell. She used to be a redhead and now she’s a blonde, but the important thing is that her sidewalk/apartment diner also serves booze now! And Margo wants her sweet, sweet brown liquor, so step it up, lady. Her swear words say “I will cut you” but her big grin says “It’s fine, everything’s fine!”

NEW THEORY ABOUT WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON IN APARTMENT 3-G: all the ladies Margo’s been interacting with lately look vaguely like Lu Ann because they are all Lu Ann. Margo finally had that psychotic break we’ve all been waiting for and is now confined to a reputable mental health facility or possibly her apartment, and dear, sweet Lu Ann is play-acting as just about everyone else in her delusional world, to distract her.

Gil Thorp, 4/4/15

Say, were you wondering how the tale of Max Bacon™, Fake Pill Popper®, turned out? Well, Max was suspended from the team for the rest of the season, Bobby was fired as student manager, and the basketball team missed the playdowns. Max will apparently get to come back next year, presumably chastened and fake-drug free, whereas Bobby … Bobby is raising an army of children to aid his bloody, violent, sure-to-be legendary revenge. They’ll regret underestimating Bobby. They’ll all regret it.