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Panel from Slylock Fox, 4/22/12

Well, it’s about time that a member of the Slylock Fox rogues gallery started fighting back against the cruel dictatorship of ratiocination that’s always keeping them down; and I’m enough of a speciesist to be glad to see that it’s Slick Smitty, the lone human recurring character in this strip full of anthropomorphic insanity. Still, it’s unsurprising to see that he’s not getting a fair trial here by this all-animal jury, who all appear enraptured by Slylock’s blatantly classist argument. “Remember, a true gentleman would have offered his right hand for a handshake. By crudely thrusting his left hand at me, Slick Smitty proved he was no gentleman. Didn’t he deserve to have his delicate metacarpals crushed by my powerful vulpine paw?”

Mary Worth, 4/22/12

I know it’s a fairly small aspect of this plot, I’m a little worried about Dan Smithers, the man whom Nola lied about in order to get his job. Do you really think he’s going to get his job back? How’s that conversation going to go? “Hey, Prez, I know that you were willing to fire me for embezzlement based only on the say-so of your underling who you were sleeping with, and who stood to benefit by my removal, but I’m willing to let bygones be bygones and establish an incredibly awkward working relationship with you! Oh, FYI, since I left I developed a drinking problem.”

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Slylock Fox, 4/16/12

The most hilarious Slylock Fox mystery solutions are the ones that rely on animal biology. I mean, in practice all Slylock mysteries actually rely on just arresting the only suspiciously named serial criminal who appears in the strip and/or assuming that anyone who’s been accused of a crime is in fact guilty, but the details needed to trump up charges against these people are always important, and so it’s great when those details involve, say, the average heart rate of a typical rat. The typical rat, of course, does not walk on its hind legs, wear clothes or “bad to the bone”-style sunglasses, live in a house, or grow to a freakishly enormous size. Rats also do not usually have the cognitive ability to either deliberately sabotage advanced traffic management systems or derive twisted satisfaction from the automotive carnage that results from such mischief. But sure, Rodney’s heart couldn’t have been measured at 72 beats per minute, right? Say, where’d you learn that little factoid about rats, Slylock? Did you read it in a book or look it up on the Internet? Because those are totally things that foxes do.

Apartment 3-G, 4/16/12

Tommie and Nina had a conversation earlier about how Nina’s mother died when Nina was a little girl and she was raised by her wonderful dad and that’s why she never learned to have lady-emotions. The fact that Margo seems to know a bit about this implies that she and Tommie have been comparing notes on the Gaines’ marital dysfunction back at Apartment 3-G, except obviously Tommie knows not to speak to Margo unless spoken to and why would Margo bother speaking to Tommie, ugh, so boring. Therefore, I have to assume that Margo and Scott are desperately trying to stave off their drunken lust for one another by just toasting things at random. “Here’s to Nina … and Nina’s father! She’s got a dad, right? Still on good terms with him? And hey, how about whoever decided to paint the underside of these yellow cabinets blue? Bold choice! Let’s toast that person!”

Mary Worth, 4/16/12

Mary Worth holds her teacup in a death grip. “So far,” she thinks, “I’ve heard about the unpleasant alcoholic whose life Nola destroyed, and some smelly vagrant, but I haven’t heard anything about my advice at all. Nola can’t possibly be on the true path to righteousness until she submits to my will.” Mary’s so focused on Nola’s failure to acknowledge her meddling primacy that she hasn’t even noticed the woman’s disproportionately large eyes, which probably indicate that “Nola” is a grey alien wearing an ill-fitting wig.

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Mary Worth and Rex Morgan, M.D., 4/3/12

Hmm, hey, did someone decide to have a Best Sidelong Glance In A Soap Opera Strip contest and somehow NOT ask me to be a judge??? That’s OK, because I enjoy each glance on its own terms and don’t feel a need to quantify them or pick one as the “best.” Each has its own charms! For instance, I like how Mary is looking somewhat hopefully at Jeff, hoping that he’ll look past the theatrically weeping televangelist and see the more general analogy she’s trying to draw. You know, sometimes you get wake-up calls in this life! Like, when your asexual not-girlfriend keeps rejecting your marriage proposals! Maybe that would be a sign to wake up and move on with your life? Not just come over to her house and bother her with your jabbering while she’s trying to watch the bad man crying on the teevee?

June’s glance, meanwhile, is more one of mounting panic, as she realizes that Rex is about to be zero help in dealing with this sexy not-dressed drunken lady who’s demanding more booze, for drunkenness. “Sure … give me a minute,” June says, backing slowly towards the liquor cabinet, not taking her eyes off Iris lest she suddenly and violently attempt to drink the lamp.

Dick Tracy, 4/3/12

Speaking of contests, it appears that Dick Tracy heard that Mark Trail was going to depict the world of marijuana use and/or distribution in a hilariously square fashion and thought, “Whoah there, I’ll bet we can do them one better!”

Slylock Fox, 4/3/12

This is pretty much the saddest Slylock Fox since that guy brought his skeletonized fish to the vet. In fact, it may be even sadder, because while that guy will probably move on with his life eventually and the fish is past caring, these two star-crossed aqua-lovers are stuck for their short lives in their too-small bowls, without even a fake treasure chest to hide behind while pressing their lips against the glass and imagining what it must be like to feel the physical touch of someone who really loves them.