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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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Mary Worth, 11/12/08

Never mind Mary and Frank’s hissy fit over the most effective way to mold your daughter to your will; what sort of sordid public coupling is going on to their left in panel one? Oh, sure, Coachy McPervert is just “helping” his young skater with her “coat” — but that doesn’t explain why she’s reaching inside his jacket to pull him closer. Looks like some skating coaches know the power of good, old-fashioned positive reinforcement (which, I can’t emphasize enough, only works this way if the skater you’re coaching is not your blood relative).

Apartment 3-G, 11/12/08

The Who On Earth Talks Or Acts This Way Follies continue unabated in Apartment 3-G. As near as I can tell, Gary is freaking out because Tommie went public with their relationship. Which sort of makes sense, because wouldn’t you be embarrassed about dating the least interesting Apartment 3-G girl?

Crankshaft, 11/12/08

Oh, look, it’s apparently characters sitting silently on the couch while the TV news inflicts terrible jokes on them week in Crankshaft. I note that the characters are not watching these wacky news jokesters together, because not even Crankshaft characters want to hang out with Crankshaft characters.

Family Circus, 11/12/08

“Thank you, Grandma, for invoking the name of Beth-Chu-Harebzed over my soup, turning it inky black, like the soul of our satanic master! Now it will give me the strength of ten thousand demons!”

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Funky Winkerbean, 11/11/08

Every long-running narrative form drifts towards its own extremes, which explains how Funky Winkerbean went from being an occasionally melancholy strip about high school hijinks to a charnel house. Hopefully today’s near-wordless installment is about to take things to the next level: instead of being struck down by alcoholism or cancer or garden-variety despair, Montoni is going to be devoured by the rampaging Tyrannosaurus Rex that has escaped from a secret underground genetics lab, and is now eating everything in sight. Hopefully, the new accelerated pace of death will kill off all the strip’s characters in short order, opening us up for a new, happier beginning, or at least three blank panels a day in which nobody weeps openly.

Crankshaft, 11/11/08

Meanwhile, over in the “fun” Funkyverse strip, the complex issue of Afghan poppy cultivation — which is the only means that many impoverished Afghan farmers have to make a living, but which fuels terrorism and religious extremism in the region and desperate addiction in the United States — provides the source material for a terrible joke about pastries for Crankshaft to squint angrily at. Crankshaft is irritated by this news report, naturally, because it promises that the smack that makes his life bearable will be more expensive in the coming months.

Apartment 3-G, 11/11/08

The third-stringers continue to stink up the field here in Apartment 3-G, as Gary, completely rattled by a little razzing from Dr. Kelly, flails emotionally at Tommie for no reason. “You two work together. Is he always a little … ODD???? Hey, don’t walk so far away when I’m shouting paranoid nonsense at you!” It’s just as well that Tommie found out that Gary can’t deal with difficult people now, before she took him home to be terrified by Margo.

Rex Morgan, M.D., 11/11/08

“Seriously, no more! Your heterosexual shenanigans repulse me.”

Marmaduke, 11/11/08

“Guess who’s got rabies! Me, soon enough.”

Pluggers, 11/11/08

OH FOR THE LOVE GOD NO PLUGGERS AND GARAGE CLEANING NOOOOOO

(For you Johnny- and Janey-come-latelies who don’t know what “garage cleaning” is code for, travel back in time.)