Well, Chullo, let me remind you of something. You may not remember this, because it all happened so long ago, but just a few minutes earlier you were eager and ready to sit in this very class. You went out of your way to get those seats. The principal himself stepped in to aid you in your quest. Now class begins and suddenly, you’re full of regrets. Apparently you forgot that the Les Moore who teaches this class is the Les Moore.
Well, you’ve made your bed. Now you have to eat it.
Every time Tom Batiuk does an episode like this one, it just amazes me that he cannot see how utterly loathsome he makes Les Moore. The worst character of all time, the fist-magnet of one hundred thousand punches, and Mr. Batiuk keeps making him more and more punchable. The only possible reaction for the students to have to panel two is to close their books and all silently walk out, never to return. The fact that they stay is sheer fantasy. The fact that they struggle to get into the class is mind-boggling.
Yes. The mind boggles.
I was looking over some of the older Act III strips, and there was an interesting dynamic when teen Summer was around. Les was frequently over-protective and anxious about her to the point of being a pathetic, needy jerk (stalking her on her solo car date, for example). But he also came across as human, as a parent genuinely concerned about her and obviously unwilling to lose her and mire in loneliness. In a way, it humanized him, allowing to be an overt jerk, yet also acknowledging that his jerkdom came from his neediness. In most cases, he was still nauseating, but he hadn’t quite become The Horse’s Ass.
Nowadays, well, I picked this up at the local Goodwill.