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Mark Trail, 11/13/08

You know that things in Mark Trail are about to get especially awesome when Mark strides into the midst of a gang of rowdy, bloodthirsty hillbillies, armed with nothing but his fists, his self-righteousness, and bold font. The last time he walked willingly into such a hornet’s nest of rustic hate was when he rescued Andy from a backwoods petnapping compound; first he declared his intentions to spring his beloved dog in front of armed hicks, then absorbed a kick to the groin and proceeded to toss his overalled nemesis to the pigs. Today, the clan of sinister yokels he faces is even more numerous, but Mark cares nothing for the odds, and will save yet another pet from yet another terrible fate.

The key part is that it’s a pet (or a PET, as Mark puts it). Wild raccoons: you are on your own, and will do battle with dogs to delight the rednecks for the foreseeable future. It’s nature’s way!

The real punchline of this story will come after Mark returns to the cabin in triumph to bring Sneaky home. Unable to sate the bloodlust he worked up while chained to that log, he’ll drown his beloved family in the bathtub. Mark will find their half-devoured corpses months later when he stops by to visit, and then Sue will finally be able to build that strip mall.

Mary Worth, 11/13/08

There are so many things wrong with Mary’s self-appointed mission as a relentless meddler, but here’s the wrongest: Mary really doesn’t understand human beings, or their emotions, at all. “Sorry for the years of emotional abuse! Here’s this expensive but ultimately useless bauble I purchased at a store. I know that based on the foliage here in upstate New York it’s mid-June, but, FYI, this is your Christmas present, so don’t expect anything in December. Now, who’s ready for another 18-hour practice?”

Luann, 11/13/08

And that’s the day that Luann settled on her future career: phone sex operator.

Hi and Lois, 11/13/08

It had been eleven days since Hi and Lois had forced Chip to join the Army, sold Trixie to the highest bidder, and then got in the car and driven off to parts unknown. Dot and Ditto had eaten the last edible matter in the house. Things were about to get ugly.

Marmaduke, 11/13/08

And by “leave so fast they forget their coat,” he means “are devoured the moment they take their coat off,” of course.

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Archie, 10/30/08

Today’s Archie reveals just how primitive the AJGLU 3000’s graphics subsystem is. Rather than portraying a pizza box as a collection of surfaces and enclosed foodstuffs that can wobble, flop open in mid-air, and splatter pepperoni, sauce, and grease everywhere to hilarious effect, it instead assumes that it is a simple, monolithic object that flies into the living room serenely, describing a perfect parabola before miraculously coming to rest in Jughead’s hands. I’d guess that whole system is based on Atari System 2 hardware, which explains the mysterious paperboy reference.

Hi and Lois, 10/30/08

I was going to go into a diatribe about how it’s silly that Ditto is regarding his lunch with wide-eyed shock in panel one seeing as it’s (a) one that he packed himself and (b) awesome, but then I caught sight of those two … brown … things in panel two. Are we supposed to assume that those are his two candy bars, both of which he carefully unwrapped and then set down on the lunch table to enjoy later? Yes, yes, let’s assume that, please.

Spider-Man, 10/30/08

You have to give the creators of the newspaper Spider-Man credit for always exploring new frontiers of total lameness on the part of their characters. In one corner, we have Big Time, a criminal mastermind so committed to his laughable clock theme that he has some sort of clock-shaped pop-gun that spits out its minute hand as ammunition and is thus presumably useless after two shots; and in the other, we have the Amazing Spider-Man, who boasts of his “spider reflexes,” which will help him dodge a projectile that hasn’t managed to cover about three feet of space in the time its taken him to thought-balloon a sentence and a half — only to have said reflexes completely disabled by a loud noise. Determining the winner in this battle will be like a philosophical conundrum: can an object with no mass be moved by an infinitely weak force?

Pluggers, 10/30/08

Pluggers know it’s cheapest just to get plastered at home, in front of the TV set.

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Crankshaft, 10/29/08

Good lord, is there a more menacing sight than Crankshaft’s hateful old face framed by a sinister black cloud rolling in from nowhere? This is no mere cantankerous old grump; he’s clearly some kind of winter-demon, determined to turn our beautiful country into an icy hell to inspire what passes for delight in his frozen lump of heart by calling down all manner of sleet and snow with his dark powers. Expect our frigid nightmare to continue until the ’Shaft decides that scorching summer heat might provide a better backdrop to his cranky, malapropistic wit.

Hi and Lois, 10/29/08

Sure, laugh all you want at Hi for not trying to use any search terms that might actually be helpful — the gentleman’s home town, his job, that sort of thing — but in his defense, sharing that sort of information is really frowned upon at anonymous sex parties, which I suppose is why they call them anonymous sex parties.

Ziggy, 10/29/08

It seems like there’s a sub-prime joke here trying to get out, but heck, let’s give the comic credit for trying. Ha ha, Ziggy’s flower is dying!