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Mark Trail, 4/14/11

Ha ha, the extent to which Cherry continues to not get Mark will never cease to be funny to me. “Was she pretty?” she asks, and at this point in their long, sexless life together one assumes that she actually wants a “yes” answer, if only because it would indicate that Mark knows what “pretty” means — which he doesn’t, as this exchange makes clear. Notice that Mark doesn’t even try to answer the question. If we could read the thought balloons in panel one as seen from Mark’s perspective they would go like this: “Who is this woman named Lonnie who you said may have saved your life? [loud white noise, like static from a television]”

Hagar the Horrible, 4/14/11

Meanwhile, Hagar appears to have killed his dog! That … that’s not cool.

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Mark Trail, 4/11/11

There were lots of different reactions I expected when Mark’s bereaved family found out that he was still alive, but apoplectic, face-twisting rage wasn’t one of them. “What?.. Who is this? Oh, hell no. I’ve lived long enough under your thumb, Mark. I’m the man of the house now! Me! It’s Rusty time!”

Apartment 3-G, 4/11/11

There are some instances of the Apartment 3-G artist refusing to draw things indicated by the script, like interesting buildings, that I assumed could be chalked up to inability or disinterest. But my feeling is that today’s mismatch is a result of disgust. “Torn jeans? What am I, a pornographer?”

Archie, 4/11/11

Archie and Veronica’s expressions of sheer terror seem a bit misplaced as reactions to the latest bit of Jughead zaniness. “My God, it’s as we’ve always suspected … no human could eat that many hamburgers and stay so thin!”

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Apartment 3-G, 4/7/11

Abandoned by her roommates, Margo is forced to bathroom on her own! That’s kind of an oddly drawn toilet brush; at first glance, I thought it might be some sort of archaic feathery masturbatory aid, but surely Margo is far too self-actualized to refer to self-pleasure as “dirty work.” Anyway, whether we’re talking cleaning the commode or rubbing one out, Margo doesn’t need to do it because Trey’s shown up. Have fun, Trey! Hope you don’t have to go to the bathroom, I hear it’s gross.

Mark Trail, 4/7/11

The Mark Trail drug-smuggling plot has ended rather anticlimactically, with Mark guiding his stolen plane to a nearby commercial airport, dropping off his escapee passengers, and he idle small talk with his government handler, who I assume had written him off for dead weeks ago. “Oh, hey,” he remarks casually, “there’s an island within a day’s boat-drift of U.S. soil where a narcotics kingpin rules with an iron fist and keeps people as slaves. You might want to look into that or whatever.”

I also look forward to the confused encounter between Lonnie and the Coast Guard that will result from Mark’s brush-off in panel two. “Your family? Uh … do they live near a coast?”

Dennis the Menace, 4/7/11

Ha ha, this is exactly the sort of thing that would normally send Mr. Wilson into a rage! But his pupils are invisible because his eyes are rolled back behind his drooping eyelids, indicating that he’s been in a dissociated state for hours. If Mrs. Wilson wants to call that “senility,” that’s fine, I guess; whatever keeps him out of her hair, amiright?