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Slylock Fox, 12/14/20

Longtime readers of this blog know that I’m a big fan of the ordinarily audacious Reeky Rat, and it’s a little sad to see him so humbled here, without even shoes to wear in court. The solution to the “mystery” is just the punchline to an old joke — Reeky is going to pay his bail in quarters, the quarters he stole, ha ha! — but really, this is just Reeky soberly assessing his options. He needs to pay bail, and the only money he has for bail is those quarters. Is his method of bail payment legally admissible evidence? Probably his lawyer could tell him that, if he had a lawyer, but I guess you don’t get a defense attorney in Owl Court. Reeky’s on his own, and he’s just gotta put one foot in front of the other to figure out how to get out of this mess, and it’s sure gonna be a lot easier to do that if he’s not in jail, so it’s time for him to call his nephew to get that suitcase out of the storage locker down at the bus station.

Gil Thorp, 12/14/20

Welp, football season’s over, everybody! Are you ready for some basketball? Charle Roh is, despite the turmoil at home that probably arose when his stepdad engaged in cybercrime in order to advance Charlie’s athletics career, presumably leading to a messy divorce. Marcel Irby is, and he’s probably hoping for more in-strip time than last year, when he rated a single panel for his surrealist performance art. And Leonard Fleming is … not, because Gil threw him in as starting QB entirely for the purpose of punishing his other two QBs, and then he got injured in a meaningless game. Remember back in 2009, when former ace pitcher Marty DeJong, who blew out his arm under Gil’s “care” in pursuit of a championship, came back to Milford looking for revenge? Well, I hope Leonard has the guts to follow through, instead of meekly agreeing to coach little leaguers like Marty did.

Hi and Lois, 12/14/20

“It’s weird, it’s almost like we’re trapped in some inexplicable time distortion where technology and associated social mores change but our kids still stay the same age! Anyway, I guess Dot and Ditto both want an ‘Oculus Rift’ for Christmas, whatever the fuck that is. If they’re gonna text this stuff to me they could at least text me an Amazon link.”

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Shoe, 12/13/20

Any old cartoon can do a classic joke like “The ladies insist that ballet is one of the world’s great art forms, but we fellas know that it’s boring, amiright fellas?” But leave it to Shoe to put an extra grim spin on it, forcing us to imagine a scenario where the Perfesser shows up at the ballet and tells Shoe’s girlfriend in very serious tones that, alas, her boyfriend has died, but his last wishes were that he wanted the Perfesser to attend the opera in his place. She’s probably so flummoxed by this that she agrees to it, spending the first act of the performance consumed by grief, only to realize in horror that the Perfesser, apparently unmoved by the death of his best friend, has dozed off. Later on she’ll presumably learn that Shoe is still alive, which will be extremely awkward.

Rex Morgan, M.D., 12/13/20

Looks like Buck is about to pass his physical with flying colors! This is good news for everyone, except for those of us who were hoping for some kind of medical drama in general, and an illness that would make Buck suffer in particular.

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Dick Tracy, 12/12/20

Oh, wow, I didn’t think this hippie storyline would take a sharp turn into hard drugs, but sure, yes, absolutely, I’m extremely here for a Sam cleverly sneaking into the home of a couple of cocaine fiends who can’t decide if cocaine is delicious candy or a medical necessity, and who react to his stern law enforcement by throwing cocaine in his face. There’s only one possible outcome here: Sam gets some cocaine up his nose, and, as is the nature of these things, immediately becomes addicted to the terrible substance, and must fight this awful curse for the remainder of the storyline.

Rex Morgan, M.D., 12/12/20

Ha ha, yes, if there’s one thing Rex Morgan definitely has and is known for, it’s a sense of humor! Look, you can tell in panel two that he’d definitely be smiling, if his cheek muscles hadn’t atrophied from years of disuse.