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Hi everybody! I am back and EXTREMELY grateful to all of you who gave so generously in the fall fundraiser! Many of you have already received your What Would Margo Do bracelets (I promise a bevy of pics tomorrow), and hopefully the rest will arrive soon; you’ll all be getting email thanks from me as well. And huge thanks go to Uncle Lumpy both for his money-soliciting and comics-mocking prowess, though really he got a reward of his own … with the greatest week in Mary Worth history! Oh, how I envy the man who got first crack at this panel:

Instead, I’m just left with the aftermath:

Mary Worth, 9/27/09

Scott has been shot in violent shoot-out … the best kind, as any aficionado of shoot-outs will tell you. Is he in serious condition, or is he the one who didn’t make it? More importantly, are the seriously wounded cop and the corpse of the other cop just sort of flopping around in the back of this paddy wagon, which appears neither to be an ambulance nor to be staffed by actual paramedics? Will Adrian be able to tell the living from the dead, amid the carnage? STAY TUNED!

Apartment 3-G, 9/27/09

Apartment 3-G, meanwhile, is taking a much sexier path, assuming that you find it sexy when pill fiends offer up their sweet middle-aged bodies to head-shrinking quacks in exchange for pills, which Dr. Papagoras obviously does. Ruby finds the whole thing just plain tawdry, even if it is happening at the Ritz-Carlton, which just goes to show that she’ll never be a real New Yorker.

Rex Morgan, M.D., 9/27/09

And Rex Morgan managed to combine impending doom and sexytimes with a sly aside out of this bespectacled lothario! “I’m a lover, Becka, not a violent person! Specifically, I’m an extremely skilled lover. Say, you know, I just thought of a clever way we can track down my mother. When I was a teenager, she always had this uncanny knack for coming home right when my girlfriend and I were starting to fool around. What if…” Remember, Becka, it’s not cheating if your husband’s infidelity, or your suspicions thereof, are tearing you up inside!

Barney Google and Snuffy Smith, 9/27/09

Ha ha, it’s funny because Snuffy is an unletter’d heathen! Wait, those actually are his most appealing qualities.

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Oddly coincident with my stewardship here at The Comics Curmudgeon, the Sunday comics are rolling out their B-Teams. Let’s take a look.

Rex Morgan, M.D., 9/20/09

OK, Rex Morgan, M.D. usually disappoints by dishing out endless observational chit-chat between Rex and June followed by a lot of talking on phones, and then, once everyone has lost interest, annihilating some minor character in a hail of gunfire or whatnot. Josh cites this as one factor in The Rex Morgan Problem, and I will not say him nay. But here’s a new and disturbing development — after weeks of observational chit-chat between secondary character Becka and assorted walk-ons, one of them (wildlife writer Tim Howard, and there’s fifteen minutes of my life I won’t get back) flies into an incandescent rage over a minor procedural issue in the organization of search parties. By the time we reach the final panel, we envy poor, wet, demented Pearl and Henry (oh God why me), feeling that the story that’s tormented us since June is fresh and new.

Also: “A@#SS“!

Barney Google and Snuffy Smith, 9/20/09

Passing by the fact that Snuffy is himself a replacement for long-departed Barney Google, what’s with poor Micah? This is the first we hear of him — yet, as the only gainfully-employed resident of Hootin’ Holler, he must’ve been the centerpiece of the Gazette‘s business section for years. I mean, it’s not like violence and murder are going to crowd him out of the paper — the Gazette puts the Police Blotter, casualty list, and obits in agate type behind the classifieds.

Apartment 3-G, 9/20/09

Oh, and here’s Aristotle Papagoras, newly emblondened and ready for his closeup. This charlatan pusher absent-mindedly bilks disease-addled Dr. “Skully” Bryant out of his lucrative Upper East Side psychiatric practice, while thought-babbling obsessively about his junkie skank “patient.” This better end in murder, and I don’t much care who.

Crock, 9/20/09

Yes, for quite a few years now, as a matter of fact!

— Uncle Lumpy

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Archie, 9/4/09

For a brief moment here, I’m actually feeling kind of bad for Reggie, who is apparently fanatically committed to his role as Riverdale’s #1 asshole. Check out his theatrically prickish expression in the third panel; he’s giggling at his own obnoxiousness so gleefully, he’s about to sprain his face.

Mark Trail, 9/4/09

So, since we met our noble but unemployed backwoodsman, he’s spent most of his time being lobbied heavily by the local sideburn brigade to take up a life of crocodile poaching. But is the illicit crocodile trade really such a bad thing? Maybe not, for those who decide to venture into the swamps bringing tender and delicious little dogs along with them! Prepare to see Rusty and Mark’s fishing trip to go off without incident, since all the giant terror reptiles determined to eat Sassy have long been transformed into handbags, with Mark bellowing “Thanks for the help, illegal poachers!” as they had back to Lost Forest.

Rex Morgan, M.D., 9/4/09

Oh, Berna, you can keep repeating your questions in simpler and simpler words all you like, but Becka seems to have downed several glasses of wine while waiting for her noodles to be individually hand-crafted back in the kitchen, and has pretty much stopped making sense. Even basic subject-verb agreement is beyond her. “Woman are drawn to Peter! Peter are … handsome man! God, I love him, that dirty, dirty bastard … so handsome … where’s the breadsticks? I never got my breadsticks! You get breadsticks at the Olive Garden … fuck Tito and his sauce. Wait, what was I talking about? Oh yeah, Peter. He thinks he’s so great! Just because he’s attractive … and gifted … and charming … hold on, I think I’m gonna puke.”

Marmaduke and Family Circus, 9/4/09

Ha ha, Marmaduke and Jeffy are planning to “borrow” foodstuffs, and then return them, after they come out of their buttholes.