Hello there, snarkers, and welcome to Son of Stuck Funky’s 3,000th post! Once again, big ups to Beckoning Chasm, Epicus, and the rest of the author roster, and to all who read and contribute and comment.
When SoSF began, that week’s arc involved Funky and Les closing up Montoni’s New York City location. Today we see the same two old(er) pals playing—well, talking about playing—tennis. “That tennis lesson I took isn’t helping much…” I think when it comes to tennis, “lesson” needs to be plural before one’s game begins to show improvement. Now, I’m not a sporto, and I know nothing about tennis: I have no idea how using old tennis balls vs. new would affect one’s play. But I do know that decent quality tennis balls cost between four and eight bucks for a can of three; might be worthwhile to invest, if it’s that much of a “problem”. And I know that tennis balls are usually a bright green-yellow, and somewhat larger than that tiny white orb Funky is gingerly holding in panel 3.
Rich Burchett is back behind the Funky Pencil, as you can tell by the dizzying upward perspective in panel 1. Judging from the orangey background, Funky and Les are playing their match either at sunset, or amid a flaming hellscape.