You know, I’m going to go out on a limb here and say that Funky’s wordplay is actually kind of clever. It’s certainly far superior to anything Les Moore has ever come up with.
And I guess that’s the reason why he has to be insulted. How dare you do something that Les is incapable of doing–providing some amusement, however dim. Telling, isn’t it? If it’s not Funky running himself down, it’s everyone around him–including his creator. It’s times like these–strips like these, I should say–where I don’t wonder why Funky has the grim, fatalistic attitude he has. What kind of life is it where the only response you can expect from a little joke is disgust? Just because you weren’t born with the name “Les Moore”?
I’m not saying you should be ROTFLOL at his joke, but it’s kind of clever and relevant to the situation. And Funky can’t even get an indulgent smirk.
You can bet that if this joke came from the death-hole of Les Moore, people would be laughingly falling out of their chairs to show how funny they found it…and yet, they’d also be reflecting on how true it all is, and how it has enriched their lives.
(It might be hard to discern that over the sound of readers everywhere projectile vomiting, but it would be there anyway.)
It’s probably good that Funky doesn’t (so far as I know) own a shotgun. I’m sure he would have gunned down anyone near him before turning the gun on himself–probably many, many years ago. Necessitating an Act IV, I’m thinking.